Wednesday, June 30, 2010

You Just Need the Right Mug

We are a family of tea drinkers. Yes, I know I seem to have a strange and obsessive love for coffee, the Elixir of Life, but that only started when I was in nursing school and had to be able to function early in the morning.

No, tea has always been my ultimate drink of choice. And I have passed this on to the progeny. And also TSiL is a tea drinker so that is good. Of course, he grew up in Pakistan where tea is the norm.

But you see, the thing about tea is you just need to use the right mug or the whole experience isn’t what it could be.

And we have mugs. We have mugs that have stories behind them. Are you surprised at this? How long have you been hanging here? Everything around here has some kind of nutty story attached to it.

IMG_7113A This is always a popular mug, even though Mr. Crabby Pants is no longer with us. Papa sent this mug to me. I am not sure where he found it but if the chips around the edge are any indication we love this one.

IMG_7114AI brought this mug back from Israel. Purchased in Bethlehem at the shop of the potter who made it. A dusty, dark and dingy place. The chip happened when someone, me I think, dropped a bowl right on the edge and chipped it big time. However, it still gets a lot of use.

IMG_7115A  This was purchased outside Ft. Ticonderoga in NY, again, from the potter who made it. A woman who was actually from Canada and was there as part of a re-enactment of a battle from the French and Indian War.

Some people go to the beach for vacation.

We take our kids to museums. They LOVE it.

IMG_7116AThis happens to be Shoe Queen’s mug. She took it to college with her. She brought it home for the summer.

If you use it and she sees you do it then she gives you the “Stink Eye”.

Sometimes I use it just to annoy her. But don’t tell her OK?

IMG_7119Then there is this little beauty. It was purchased in Idaho at Snake River Pottery. And there is a story of course. We were in Idaho for HHBL’s family reunion (we meet every two years). HHBL, the progeny, Cousin Amanda and yours truly had spent some time driving around the state going to cool things like the National Potato Museum (the progeny’s favorite) and walking up mounds of volcanic stuff and sticking gobstoppers into our noses. Good Times.

I had found a little “blurb” in one of my guide books about this place call Snake River Pottery. The directions to get there had phrases like “If you go past the mail box with the deer horns on it then you have gone too far” and “take a left at the third farm on your right” and things like that. We finally located the place and parked. If you looked at the picture you can see that it is a rather unassuming place that sits next to a rushing river. We walked in and saw a sign that told us that if we wanted to purchase something and no one was around just add the sales tax and leave the money on the counter.

OK

We did hear a voice from the back of the house tell us to look around the show room which was on the right so we did. And then the potter and owner of the building appeared….

In his bathrobe….

His very thin bathrobe….

And nothing else.

Boy did we pay for our purchases with a swiftness bordering on panic.

IMG_7117 And then there is this mug. I happen to be having a cup of tea in this one at this very moment. It is my personal favorite….and there is a story lest you were worried.

When I went off to Baylor many, many years ago my momma (Mimi) purchased a bunch of mugs for me. This was one of them. It was my “Tumbling Bears” mug and it was my favorite because the bears look so happy. I finished nursing school, worked, got married, had kids and all the while I used my mug.

Then one day HHBL and I were visiting his mom for Thanksgiving. My BIL, Kidney Doc, was visiting as well. He was wanting to have a cup of coffee in the morning as we were recovering from an excess of turkey and said, “Where is the F---ing Bunnies Mug. That’s my favorite.”

Sorry, I can’t print that word, this is a family blog. Now back to our story.

I wondered what mug he might be talking about. Then he pulled the mug out from the back of the cupboard and I got a look at it.

HEY! That mug looks just my favorite one at home only with bunnies not bears.

Why does he call it the f---ing bunnies mug. I don’t see……

OH.MY.GOSH!

And then the scales fell from my eyes and I was able to see, really see, what the bears were doing…….
IMG_7118 Holy Cow Andy no wonder they look like they are happy. Oh yeah they are “tumbling” alright.

It only took me 10 years to figure it out.

And for some reason this is still my favorite mug. Tea just tastes better in it.

Like I said, you just need the right mug.

5 comments:

  1. Oh...we had that F'n bubby mug, too. My mom still has it. It's French. One time my SiL got a shirt from her MiL for Christmas that had an odd print on it. It showed various skiiers...but, instead of skiing over hills and mountians, they were skiing over T's and A's. I was appauled. But, no one but me recognised it for what it really was. What does that say about my innocence?

    How is Kidney Doc? All the Quiggs are such over achievers! Give him my best.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh how hysterical...F'n bubby...what was I thinking. I meant to say...bunny.
    That's a Yiddish Freudian slip.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Oh that's funny. Your mom knows now? I love the mugs and their stories. I have mine like that too (though I want that cat one). :)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I saw the mug for what it was right away! Tumbling? Is that what the kids are calling it now? lol!

    ReplyDelete
  5. I didn't even have to read a single word on your post and I could have told you what those bears were doing. In fact, before I read it, my eyes opened wide and I thought, "Miss DebbieQ doesn't seem like the type to have an obscene mug!"

    ReplyDelete

Thank you SOOO much for commenting. We bloggers, of which I am such a minnow in such a big pond, live for our comments.