I was thinking about my childhood collection of coffee mugs, it was what I did when I wanted a souvenir or something to remember a person by, I had a mug. I started to hang them up with the old accordion mug hangers of the 80’s and soon my wall was covered in my childhood bedroom. The reason I started thinking about this was that I needed a few mugs for my camper and wondered, in these intervening decades, what ever happened to my great collection? I have no actual memory of what happened after I moved away to go to school and set up my first apartments and houses of adulthood. I am sure I kept a few, but I think I may have given away dozens. My uncle is an auctioneer and I see often the lifelong collections of people be sold to the highest bidder at their passing. Hundreds of salt and pepper shakers, a collection of teddy bears, thousands of collector plates. I see all these things pass through the sales. It occurs to me that in the case of my mugs it was the joy of the collecting, the hunt to find the perfect one from wherever I was, the delight in the memories that I had when I looked over the wall of cups. In our fast past world of virtual everything , and photos taken by the hundreds but never printed it may be a lost tendency to collect items at all. I think it is a good way in our separate journeys to make ourselves guide posts and remembrances so that we can relive the delight of certain moments and excursions. In whatever way makes sense to you take a moment to check in and anchor yourself into a moment and a memory, enjoy a mug of memories whenever you can.
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