I was wandering around the many roads and alleys of content on the Hive chain the other day and what did I come across but a post from @papacrusher extolling his love for his favourite coffee cup.
Coffee just isn’t the same when it comes from another cup.
Now, some might find the notion a bit odd. The idea of drinking coffee from one cup being different than drinking it from another. The cup becomes part of your familiar routine. It’s presence in front of you tells you even when life is in the crapper, there is still normality.
The flavour of normal gives the coffee a robust presence. A richer, deeper taste.
My coffee cup is not as old and well seasoned as papacrusher’s is. Mine has to fight for its survival.
Literally. Two have lost the fight.
Who do the cups have to survive? Who else, and she’s joined me to ‘help’ me tell the story.
Hobo looks pretty chill here using my computer for her backrest. When it comes to my coffee cup, mouse, carafe and anything else she targets, she’s deadly.
I had a wonderful wide, deep, comfortable to the palm of the hand coffee cup for years.
That cup had to be used for my coffee. Even if I didn’t wash dishes for a day or two, the cup was washed and used. Yes papa, I do wash mine, not just sometimes rinse it out.
My coffee is also brewed in a pot and then I fill the carafe to keep hot coffee nearby while I work my way through the daily pot.
Hobo has had a brat streak ever since she arrived almost 3 years ago. She seems to think it’s some sort of a game to clip her claw on the edge of the cup and pull it over before I can react. She doesn’t do it unless I’m sitting there.
What fun is it to knock the cup over without me present?
Well, Hobo tested the idea out one evening. The cup was sitting alone on the counter in the kitchen. The house was quiet. I was reading. Suddenly I heard an odd scuffing sound. Before I could get up to investigate, I heard the crash.
Hobo had launched the cup off the counter onto the floor where it broke into pieces. I walked into the kitchen to find her sitting ‘innocently’ on the counter.
Innocent my butt.
I ordered a cup like the one pictured above, chuckling that I would be taunting Hobo a bit with the cat drawings. Not that she likely knows what they are.
Within a month, she had broke the mug. When I re-ordered the same mug, I ordered two.
A year later, I still have the mug and the backup. I pay attention when I set the mug on the counter that it’s tucked behind something, or, I just put it in the sink. She’s knocked it over a few times but hasn’t been able to get it to the edge for execution.
She still tries to get her paws on it when I am drinking my coffee. I hold the cup a lot unless I’m doing something that needs both hands. Then I set it down on the coffee table, use both hands and one eye.
The other eye watching for movement from, guess who?
Shadowspub is a writer from Ontario, Canada. She writes on a variety of subjects as she pursues her passion for learning. She also writes on other platforms and enjoys creating books you use like journals, notebooks, coloring books etc.
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