My mug needs a place mat instead of a coaster.
Or it just seems that way, it holds so much darn coffee.
I'd been on the Goodwill search for a new mug after accidentally breaking the previous one a couple months back.
I don't do rotating mugs. It's one mug, every day. It's part of my morning ritual.
I wasn't heartbroken when the last mug broke. I liked it well enough but it wasn't love. It was ceramic hand-painted from China. Sage green. I got it 'cause I liked the color. Reminded me of the sage green in traditional Japanese abodes and the borders of tatami mats.
In the interim I was using a loaner, a mug used for pens and pencils. It has dalmations in firefighters' hats. It has its certain cute charm but didn't have that ooompfh or size for a morning mug.
Soooo many mugs I'd pick through on visits to the Goodwill. Each time I'd leave empty-handed rather than settle for one that's just OK, it does the trick.
There's much to a mug. Its shape. Design of the handle and how that feels in the hand. The weight. The turn of the wrist as it's lifted. The art and colors. The size.
Mine looks like it'd never been used. Still had the Made in China sticker on the bottom and the inside is spanking white.
The butterflies around the cup vary. I'd show you except each cell-phone photo costs a buck to send so that'll wait till I'm off unemployment. That little "blob" inside on the left is small butterfly. It's a sunny cheerful yellow (more than apparent in the pic). That was one of my criteria in my mug shopping. Does it bring a smile in the morning? I'm a grump when I get up.
It's quite large, this one. It holds precisely two cups of java. Each morning it's filled to the brim. Talk about a speed buzz. And no excuses for dillydallying. On anything. Ever. Again. Or for as long I shall drink from this cup.
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