When I drink coffee at work, I have to choose from a variety of cups. Some are emblazoned with pharmaceutical advertisements, some are generic white, there is a Christmas cup with a snowman on it, and a pink cup with a heart. There is writing in the heart, but I have never read what it says. Then there is this little olive green old school vessel.
This is a 70's throw back. It reminds me of cups my grandparents had. Now you could probably find partial sets of them in Goodwill Centers, hunting camps, and anywhere misfit or otherwise outdated kitchen ware is traded.
What you drink your coffee out of says something about you. I do not want to drink out of a Diflucan cup. What would people think? Who wants to ponder yeast infections when they are drinking coffee? I won't even mention the masculinity implications. Drinking out of a generic cup, unless they are the only ones clean, scream, "I'm not interesting, please do not notice me." I might add, most of the generic cups are chipped around the rim - I hate that.
For me, it is the little olive green cup. It is so ugly that it is actually beautiful. It means something. It holds my coffee and causes a percolation of memories in my mind. I always think about my grandpa when I see this cup. His rickety brown kitchen table - standard mobile home issue comes to sharp focus in my minds eye. I think about one of our many conversations, over coffee or iced tea. A cup of coffee has become a pleasant stroll back in time.
It is funny how a little cup, ugly to anyone with good taste, can be so powerful and even loved. If it is crazy at work and there is no Calgon to take me away, this little cup will. It will take me back to happy memories of being with my grandpa. Like the little cup, he was one of a kind.
Sweet summoned memories, conjured by a little coffee cup someone no longer wanted. That is just another wonderful thing about life, one can find good things in unexpected places. Blessings, beauty, and food for the soul can arise from anything and anywhere.
Until the next time