My coffee mug

I love this mug.

The newspaper I work for does this feature called "My Five" where once a week we pick somebody from the community and ask them to bring in their five favorite objects. It can't be a picture of their child or their cat meant to represent that person or pet; it has to be an actual object that has sentimental value. Like a childhood blankie. Or state track medal. Or guitar. Or something.

I don't know what my five things would be.

But this mug would make the list. I sort of love everything about it. The colors, the design, its shape. The fact it holds just the right amount of coffee.

I found it in a thrift store in Fruita, Colorado, a year ago. The weather was perfect, I remember, and we had walked to this thrift store from our friend's house just a few blocks away.

The store is big and has lots of the usual thrift store merchandise. A back room there, I recall, has lots of kitchen stuff including an entire wall of mugs.

I loved this one right away. It was part of a pair, and I almost bought the other one, too, but Dane said he wouldn't ever use it (and didn't really like it), so I put the other one back.

That's OK. I like having just the one.

And on mornings when this one's clean, I reach for it every time.

And, yes, of course, the coffee tastes just a little bit better.