The weekend is quickly coming to a close. It's been a good day. The housework is done and it's time to sit down for a cup of tea. My new favorite, Paris, by Harney and Sons, and my old faithful cup. I love this cup. It's not very sophisticated sitting next to the pretty canister but it is still very special to me, nonetheless. My son got it for me many years ago. He has a wicked sense of humor and thought it would be a hysterical sight to see his mother sipping her afternoon tea from a cup that said,
"I would rather be drinking tequila."
Especially since drinking tequila from a coffee cup, or any container for that matter, would probably never happen in Roseville. My sweet little cup is getting tired. It has many cracks and scratches and has discolored from so much use. Whenever I open the cupboard and see it sitting there and I remember the day he brought it home, I just can't resist choosing it to accompany me for another few minutes of resting and regrouping before the next task at hand begins. It's kind of like leaving the artwork from school on the refrigerator for months on end because you just can't bear to part with an expression of the sweet inner workings of a child's mind. He's grown and on his own these days, but this cup reminds me of that adorable little boy that found humor in such a crazy little vision of his mother toting a slogan on her cup that would be so contrary to her existence. Especially since the most wonderful thing that cup holds to this day is fond memories of a wild-haired little boy with a big brown eyes and a wry little smile.
