Mug Shot
Each morning I like to wake up to my favorite mug-snowy with a cardinal perched on the branch of a white birch tree-just the right size-just the right feel-just the right welcome to the new day. It invites a tiny spark of joy into my morning. Certainly, if it hasn’t made its way out of the dishwasher since the night before, I can equally find joy in one of its many special cupboard companions-each one holding a memory and a special place in my heart. One from a potter, one with a whale tale handle, one as a birthday gift from Amelia Island, and a summer set that reminds me of our fishing village (that set doesn’t reappear until the first day of summer). There are mugs from the church, the yacht club, funny mugs, mugs with tiny chips that get relegated to the tallest shelf in the cabinet – but each morning they speak to me about some tiny corner of my life.
More than once I have asked my husband what his favorite mug might be and if he wanted his tea in it that morning. And he said,
‘No, I don’t have a favorite mug. I don’t even know what having a favorite mug would be like!’
For some reason that surprised me-after sharing mugs for 35 years I thought for sure he’d have a favorite-but nope. When sharing that story with our daughter she responded something on the order of…
‘I don’t even know what that would be like!’
Hmmm I queried, ‘what….. you don’t know what having a favorite mug would be like?’
And she responded, if I dare to rephrase- saying –
‘No, I can’t imagine what not having a favorite mug would be like!’
‘My thoughts exactly’ I responded.
How does one go through life without denoting a favorite mug?
I guess it gets demoted to an item that lacks importance or meaning.
I have figured that I have many daily favorites-
A favorite fork which I used to stir my homemade dog food-I loved those dogs and each time I use that fork they’re there with me. I have a favorite pillow that my mom gave me as a teenager and I still sleep on it every night-I think I would have serious trouble sleeping without it. I have a favorite pen that glides dependently across the page. My favorite pasta bowl is black and sadly my favorite slotted spoon fell apart stirring its last bowl of chicken soup last week. I know we could go on to shoes and sweaters and even bath towels making me wonder what is the draw? The usefulness? The familiarity? The sense of home? Some might feel the word ‘favorite’ could lend itself to youthfulness-perhaps they fancy ‘preferred’ over ‘favorite’ but I’m in whole hog with the word ‘favorite’.
‘Favorite’ says something potent about a person. Favorite color and season say a lot! Back when teaching kindergarten, I always wondered about kids whose favorite color was orange- it was a color I just never understood. Why on earth did they pick orange? You know who you are out there! And now I love orange-and all colors really. My daughter’s favorite color changed regularly leaving her bedroom walls about a half-inch thick with concealed favorites.
Favorite food keeps us always having something to look forward to - and the good thing is you are always welcome to change your mind, or change your favorite without any need for explanation. Favorite pajamas and book and poem and holiday. Favorite drink and weather-mine happens to be ‘blizzard’ - and oh, don’t forget song- that one has permission to change daily.
Maybe ‘favorite’ is a youthful concept – maybe weariness evens out our playing field and leaves us temperate or predictable. But I like the highs and lows-the passion behind the word ‘favorite’-the fact that we continue always to have opinions and some rough edges and not be worn down by the adulting of our fancies. And writing-well that’s my favorite time of day!
Maybe if you have a favorite mug-one that you look forward to each morning- you might like to post a photo of it here. ☕️❤️