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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

My First Pomagranet… pomigranite… pomegra… pom.


There it is, my first fruit that is definitely spelled with Pom at the beginning, but that I simply can’t spell right now. Why not? It was tangy, little fireworks exploding on my toungue, bubble wrap filled with juice. It was delicious and I only ate half. Yes, my kitchen looks like there a small animal might have been butchered there. Like maybe a mouse.

While I don’t have a photograph, I also want to celebrate that I made coffee at home before I went to work. I have a pretty serious addiction to Metropolis. For about a year, I’ve had in my head that I would get a one-cup brewing thing. You know, you put the funnel over the mug and pour hot water through the grounds. I think the first time I was looking for it, Ronnie and I were at Jewel and I was buying my first Brita filter. It has taken almost a year to find it and it was my friend Ashqi who found it at Pete’s coffee. So I bought filters, coffee at Trader Joe’s, half and half, and this morning I walked out the door with coffee I made for myself.

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