Saturday morning. A storm has just passed over and is receding into the east. The rumbling thunder is leaving Central Texas behind.
She walks into the study. Standing in the doorway with a smile on her face, she claps her hands contentedly, seemingly just as pleased as Charlie who is curled up under the desk with his eyes closed now that the thunder and lightning are gone.
I look up at her flashing eyes. (Beware! Beware! I think to myself.)
She claps her hands again.
“Cleaning cycle has begun,” she says.
You see, we entered the late twentieth century a few months ago and got a coffee maker that’s got some automated features, including a warning light that comes on after so many uses telling you to run it thru a cleaning cycle.
“Cleaning cycle has begun,” said the fair and industrious Trudy.
I need not explain further this aspect of her moniker, industrious. The Mr. Coffee cleaning cycle and her joy in triggering it is really all the explanation you need.