Coffee Mugs

I like coffee mugs.  I like them a lot.  I have a large collection from many places, reminders of a vacation or a person or an event.  They are like my children in a way, and even when they are chipped and cracked, I am unable to throw them away.  Cups thus injured are stored in a box, awaiting a day when I have a place to display the retired.  Sometimes, I smile when I look at them in my cabinet, each one hoping to be chosen for the day’s service.

There are cups from Maine, Texas and Norway, each one triggering a unique set of memories.  In December, the Christmas cups join the collection.  Spode and Santas and snow.

Unlike children, certain cups are favorites.  The Texas Bluebonnet mug that reminds me of my mother.  That one where the top is curved just right.  This one that is easy to hold.

There is a new mug this week.  My Rabbit Room mug.  It is sturdy and the lip of the mug curves out.  It feels like a unique creation, not just a carbon copy.  In the early morning darkness of our bedroom, I hold it with two hands, just because I like the feel of it in my hands.  I sip my coffee and remember Hutchmoot.  It is good.