Mugs are my weakness.
Some people collect T-shirts when they travel. I collect mugs. Each one I have tells a story. It takes me back to that little town in Oregon. Or to that great coffee shop in Talkeetna. Or to the long and winding friendship I have with the person who gave it to me or even made it.
I don’t have any matching mugs. When you share coffee, tea (or hot chocolate :)) with me at my home – you have to pick your own mug.
My mom always picks the same flowered mug when she visits. I got it when Mom, my sister Mari & I were in Kensington, England. It’s porcelain and perfect for Mom’s tea. It also reminds us all of that wonderful trip back to her homeland.
My friend Jo often picks the same natural mug that has a dragonfly on it. I’m not sure why. Maybe she’ll tell us.
I know that in the scheme of things, mugs are not that important. They do represent something very important though – choice. The first choice I make every morning is what kind of coffee experience I want for the day. It sets the course for the day.
I’m guessing most of us have something in our lives – like mugs – that are more important than they seem to be. What’s yours?