The Dad Mug and how it came to be.
My Dad is the kind of guy who would rather spend all day out on his property, clad in a heavy flannel shirt tending his acreage, than spend a day in the confines of any city or town. He prefers to enjoy the filtered sunbeams streaming down on his own back porch, than to venture out into the world taking in new views. He is a creature of habitual solitude. This is not a criticism, just a commentary. In some ways it is a beautiful way of life. He does the same things every day (for the most part). His rituals include sitting with his coffee. He drinks a lot of it. The same coffee for years. And out of the same mug. Every morning. Every afternoon. The same mug. A mug I made. No one else touches his mug.
He bought that mug from me about 18 years ago, way back when I first started potting on a semi-professional basis. He said it was perfect. It was smallish, with a narrow neck and a bell shaped bottom. It was the goldilocks of mugs, holding not too much and not too little, keeping coffee hot due to the unique shape.
Well... it broke this past year. I haven't been able to confirm this, but I believe tears were shed, and a mourning period commenced. Said mourning period was complete with ritual (loving) complaints about how none of my newer mugs are like that old "perfect" mug.
So I made him a new mug. Actually I made 16 of them, just to be sure one of them would be "perfect". And now The Dad Mug will likely be a regular part of my production repertoire, for a while at least.
My dad is not a perfect father - but who is? I can confidently say, now that I'm a parent, that perfection is impossible. I've already made many mistakes in the short lives of my kids, and I will make many more. But while he was not perfect, he is a good dad. And, he is a GREAT grandpa.
I look forward to our next visits with him. My children, who are toddlers, will climb all over him in the morning light as he sits in his favorite chair, in his favorite place on earth (his home), using his favorite mug.