The Question

Patio Cover at dawn

How to dispose of coffee grounds – that is the question. As a recent graduate from a plastic Mr. Coffee machine to a stainless steel french press, I find the question of what to do with the grounds both nostalgic and interesting. Since my garden is 8 steps from my front door, I’m doing what my mom did years ago – putting the coffee grounds into the soil around the rose bush.

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the question” or on some topic suggested by the photo.


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

6 thoughts on “The Question”

  1. The question is, ironically, the beginning of the answer. However the question is worded, the answer is obviously included if you read closely enough. How high is the sky? the key word is high. Infinite or zero, depending on your point of view, but high at any viewpoint. Try another question. How old are you? Old is the key word here. I am old, enough said.

  2. I wish I were the type of person who used coffee grounds for mulching the garden. But then — that would require gardening. I wish I could throw the grounds down the disposal but I have too great a fear of my sewer backing up…so, into the garbage they go.

  3. The question is my thinking without an answer. If the thought is significant and meaningful one is forced into deep and sometimes critical thinking. This thinking is viable brain exercise and it helps to maintain a strong cerebral state. The question is not always welcomed, confronting it is brain tasking.

    1. Exactly. :D. But with much more scientific and philosophical significance than my rambling, obviously falling into some strange artistic trance reply. I’m insane. You’re genius. :).

  4. Why do you ask me such futile demise? It is not a question, it is a provocation, an expectation, a demand! I don’t know the answer. Questions are even greater than the answers, you know, for they lead to discoveries beyond the facts, beyond the standards of what society and people like you request from me. You ask me things I cannot answer, because I don’t yet know the question myself.

  5. The question is about the sheer, captivating, consoling wonder of the ponder itself. The question is beyond comprehension because it cannot be defined by answer, for that is what ends it. But if the question continues to be unanswered, if we simply leave it at the question then we will have an everlasting revalry, a beautiful marvel, that we can think upon and then think back upon for the rest of our lives.

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