On normal days, I drink almost an entire cup of part caffeinated/part decaf coffee in whatever mug I feel like at the moment. Sometimes, it's my blue mug with the large block M on it (Go Blue!); other times, it's the NaNoWriMo mug given to me my one of The Plot Sisters. That mug of coffee takes me from about 5:30 to 7 a.m. to drink, and then, I rinse it out and put it in the dishwasher.
But some days, I need an extra kick around 10:30 (at least on the days that I'm home) and I reach for a mug to house my small bit of fully caffeinated coffee with milk. The Pfaltzgraff mug worked perfectly for me. Every single time.
My fingers felt at home when I grasped the handle, and if I needed a bit of extra warmth, I could cradle the entire cup in my hand. I didn't realize, until the other day when I craved that little bit of extra coffee, just how much I missed my cup.
You see, several years ago, the last of the cups broke. I remember looking at the crack in the side of the only surviving mug for a very long time, knowing that within a few uses, the cup would be rendered useless. I wish, now, that I'd repurposed the mug in some way. But I'm no potter, and to be quite honest, I couldn't "see" what new product I'd come up with.
So instead, I'm writing about the little cup that could. It shall live in posterity via this post. (Today of all days, having woken up at 4:22 a.m., I wish I had that little cup.) Grab hold, people, figuratively and literally, to those tiny things that make you feel alive. It's not all about material goods, but sometimes the simplest and most mundane of objects can bring a peace to your soul that you never anticipated.