I bought a French press recently on Amazon. I did it to try to save money on my frequent trips to the coffee shop.
I realized that once I bought it, I needed a kettle to boil water. I considered a $15 electric kettle but since I have few outlets and counter space I went for a stovetop one from the thrift store.
Since the kettle had corrosion and grime from stranger’s household I had to buy steel wool to clean the kettle out thoroughly.
I also had to buy beans, of course. I like my coffee fresh but I opted not to buy a grinder, even though this is important for freshness. Because of the outlet and counter space scarcity, I again went without. I decided to just have the barista grind it for me.
I had to pick up a standard-size plastic spoon for measuring the grounds out instead of just dumping them in the press haphazardly.
So, things have a way off accumulating. When they accumulate, they make your living space feel smaller. They crowd you in and seem to writhe at you. Each excess item seems to have a restless spirit that is imprisoned until you finally acknowledge that it is junk and throw it away.
I am glad I no longer produce as much paper and plastic waste from cafe visits (at the cafes that don’t give you the option). I also spend less. But now my walks to Quixotic, Starbucks, Fireroast, Peace Coffee and others are less frequent. I have more grounds to clean up and flush from the sink. I have a kettle and a French press to wash. (Coffee is an surprisingly oily substance.) And although I have a consistent, quality drink, I have less variety.
A couple of concepts are involved here. One is the slight tension between frugality and minimalism. I save money by making my own coffee, even though I own more things. This is frugal. Visiting the cafe instead would allow me to own fewer things, but would result in spending more money. This would be a minimalist approach. I should point out that the minimalist approach outsources some of the waste in the form of those paper cups and plastic lids. The waste is still there, but you keep it from entering your living space.
Another concept is the missing R in “Reduce, Reuse and Recycle.” A science professor once conveyed to me very vividly how the the most important R, Refuse, is missing from this slogan. If you can, why not refuse waste in the first place? Fortunately the waste hierarchy is now ingrained in regulations and industry, unlike when that slogan emerged.
I found this French press substitution to be worthwhile. Now I’m looking for other things to refuse.
