Monday, February 29, 2016

Ten Minutes

I am trying to practice writing again.  For ten minutes each evening I have been writing everything I can think of about a particular word.  This evening, was Isaiah's word of choice.  I said "Isaiah, what's the first word that comes to your mind?" He answered: 


I think Isaiah just picked it because there was a mug sitting next to him. He is not being very creative right now.  That's probably because he is working on our budget and going through lots of receipts, which apparently can cause cancer if you touch them too much.  And no I don't know why the text on this one section is smaller than the others.  But an easy solution to fixing the problem would be to throw my computer out the window and never blog again. 

But back on the mug thing.  Mugs are funny, because many people collect lots of them and don't really do anything with them.  People buy mugs that have silly or sentimental writing on them and often just keep collecting them, usually so that they can sell them eventually at a garage sale so someone else can keep collecting them and then pass them on to other collectors someday.  That's why many Americans have very random mugs in their house that say things that truly have nothing to do with their current life. 

We own an absurd amount of mugs for two people. None of them say anything on them, but all of them came from somewhere at some point and signify an event in our past. I think most of them are actually kind of fun to look at.  Last summer I purchased 5 fiesta wear mugs at a yard sale for five dollars.

Mugs can be comforting.  They make me think of happiness and of cuddling up on a cold dreary Oregon day.  Or a cold Miami day, because cold Miami days bring back the happiest of memories.
The end. 

One of my favorite mug memories had to do with my Childhood's best friend's father, who had a handlebar mustache.  It was quite a pronounced one.  It seems like it was sort of his trademark. But anyway, I remember that he had a mustache mug that fit his mustache to keep it from getting into his coffee.  That always made us chuckle. 

On that note, its strange to think that the grownups in our lives at that time were about our age now. How does that change my perception of the kinds of people they were looking back?  Its an interesting thing to ponder....