History through coffee mugs

It's a rainy, crappy day here in Massachusetts as we shoulder the dregs of Hurricane Ida. It's the kind of day where you can easily drink a whole pot of coffee trying to keep warm. I like coffee, but I really love tea. I've already had a cup of both today.

When I open my cabinet where I keep my mugs, it's like a walk down memory lane. There's my Syracuse mug, which I bought one fall day on campus. My high school mug, which I never drink out of but keep as a memento. The Sagittarius mug, dishwasher-faded, with the big chip out of the bottom. My Starry, Starry Night mug (my favorite painting) a coworker at my first job gave me on his way out the door because I'd always admired it. And so on.

Just some ceramic and paint, probably worth about ten bucks. But they mean the world to me.