Self-relegated

My coffee making station has been relegated to the laundry room. In addition to the washer and dryer, there's some counter space, some cabinets, and a small sink. That room was used mainly for laundry and storage of things that had no where else to go. 

The espresso maker has always been in the kitchen. There's a little alcove there which appears to be the perfect nook for a coffee station but I felt it was too far away from the sink and the garbage so I put it on the counter next to the stove which was closer. The machine is black and silver as is the coffee grinder. It looks neat and modern in almost any location. And, it's not very large so it doesn't take up too much counter space.

But, it's loud. So loud that I can't make coffee if I'm the first one up because it will wake everybody else up in the household which is why I keep a growler full of cold coffee in the fridge. For such emergencies.

I've had my espresso machine since long before my grandson was born. He's used to the noise. As a baby, he was fascinated by it. He used to like to get up on a stool to watch me make my coffee and, before long, to help make it. But when he became old enough to play games on his laptop, the other players in his game would ask "What's that noise?" whenever I started the grinder for a coffee. Now, they're used to it too.

Once, while he was visiting my son, my daughter-in-law apologized for making so much noise with her Keurig coffee maker. He said, "That's not loud. You should hear my Grandma's."

On a whim, I decided to move the coffee apparatus to the laundry room where I can close the door. 

It's a little weird to make coffee in one's laundry room but it does work as a sufficient noise barrier. I can make coffee without waking Hubby or houseguests. Even though I've wiped down all the counters, it doesn't feel as clean - sanitary - as the kitchen. For this reason, I use a small cloth to lay out my instruments - the coffee scoop and tamper, a regular spoon, the portafilter and basket, and a measured shot glass. I ready myself with all the seriousness and precision of a surgeon.

It has taken a while to get the rhythm of making coffee in the laundry room. The flow is off but it works as designed. I get coffee while Hubby gets sleep. Plus, there's one pleasant but unintended consequence: My clothes now have the faint smell of coffee.