Coffee Scoops & Sweater Weather

All the discussion about inflation has me stuck in 1977. Jimmy Carter asked us to conserve energy by turning our heat down to 65 during the day & 55 at night. He suggested we put on a sweater when we felt chilly. Earlier that fall, my mom moved us to a small town on the western edge of the UP.  By February, the temperature barely rose above freezing and dropped more than 10 degrees below zero at least twice—even before factoring in wind chill. The Oil Crisis had only recently passed, the steel industry was in decline, and a failed coffee harvest in Brazil, along with grain and soybean issues due to weather, market, and agricultural policy changes, drove prices up.

I would come down for breakfast wearing a flannel nightgown and thick socks, because the hardwood floors of the 100-year-old house were cold against bare feet. My mom would be standing at the stove, stirring oatmeal. My stepfather had already put a few thin pieces of wood in the stove’s side compartment, where a small fire made it warm—at least there. They had been awake long enough to get through a full pot of coffee. I’d watch as she lifted out the old filter, set it carefully on a plate, fitted in a new paper towel (she never bothered buying store-bought filters), sprinkled in one scoop of coffee, then emptied the previous grounds over it. She’d finish by filling the water reservoir and turning on the coffee pot. Sometimes, she’d forget to turn it off before filling the reservoir, so it would start brewing before she got the pot back on the warmer. This made her swear, and it was hard not to laugh.

Pouring a cup from this new pot and grimacing, she would say to him, "It tastes awful, I know. Coffee is so expensive right now. I don’t know what else to do."

Nearly 50 years later, with my own ex-husbands and stint tending bar now behind me, I stock my own pantry with oatmeal, Jiffy Mix, peanut butter, evaporated milk, noodles, gravy mixes, beans, rice, bouillon, spices, flour, sugar, oil—and anything I can imagine that could be used to build a meal if there’s nothing else.

The weather turns cold, and I turn on the oven before the heater, making a small coffee cake from Jiffy Mix, an egg, a bit of water, sugar, and an apple. I brew a cup of pour over, wrap myself in a blanket, and cut a piece, thinking that my mom would likely put some margarine on it before eating it.