Jan 212019

I did not start drinking coffee until I went into direct sales. I had no idea what I was missing. Both my husband’s family and my family were religious about their coffee. I was embarrassed once when my brother-in-law came to our house after visiting my husband in the hospital, and We. Had. No. Coffee. Nothing, not even a Sanka envelope. But, as I mentioned, in our forties, The Husband and I both got religion.

Now, we both depend on java in the morning, and sometimes even a second. Before I retired, I ran through a drive-thru (location depending on traffic but could be FourBux, Donut Bank, or McD’s.) Now, the joy of having a cuppa at home, slowly, while watching the CBS Morning News is sublime.

I am inflexible on the subject of mugs. I drink coffee in a mug. Cups are for tea. I discern a difference. I also want a substantial handle on my mug. I also prefer to drink from a mug that is younger than my adult child, who will be 29 this spring. My husband, on the other hand, treasures mugs with which he has an emotional relationship, like the free Cameron Springs Water mug he adores. I got the mug free at a health fair in the 1990s. I think the company has long been out of business or was purchased.

I recently bought four new mugs (two of which are pictured above) which led to my insistence that we rid ourselves of four. Our cupboard space is limited. We have enough mugs for the von Trapp children and most of the Osmonds and their children and grandchildren to join us for morning coffee, with everyone having a mug.

Out went the free radio station mug with the logo worn off that I got in 1980. Out went three matching mugs with tiny handles. (By out, I mean given to Goodwill for any tiny-handed politicians who need them.) I’m expecting a mug with El Greco’s Toledo on it as well as another with Snoopy, the literary ace, typing on his doghouse. Incremental change, that’s my motto.

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