Yes we are. We can now report that the replacement coffee pot (pots) have arrived. Everyone knows that the old one (which wasn't all that old unfortunately) sank to the bottom of Brian Jones Locker after a tump on the Spring 2011 trip. We don't know specifically whose tump. There are lots of candidates.
The old coffee pot was huge (32 cups) and is probably now as much of a hazard to navigation on Big Swan Creek as barbed wire. Bigger is usually better in this club, but since we were presented with the opportunity to rethink the coffee pot situation we decided to get two smaller ones instead. The big ones take so long to perk. And now we can stagger the start times so there will literally always be a pot of coffee on the fire, which is a good thing both for caffeine delivery and for aesthetics.
To really diversify, we got different sizes and styles. This one, with its sexy bail, wooden handle and rugged good looks:
And this little teapot, short and stout, because we like enamel.
Now, has anyone seen the First Aid kit?
With the first touch of the sun the willows began to whisper as frozen leaves loosed their hold and fell side-slipping down through the others that were still green. Titmice called, and flickers and a redbird, and for a monent, on a twig four feet from my face, a chittering kinglet jumped around alternately hiding and flashing the scarlet of its crown.... I sat and listened and watched while the world woke up, and drank three cups of the syrupy coffee, better I thought than any I'd ever tasted, and smoked two pipes.
Goodbye to a River, p. 154.