1 This series has taken on a life of its own.
I've had the cups for years, but we mostly used them on social occasions. The game was to let guests each choose their cup from the shelf (that photo is from this post) while I was in the kitchen making coffee. They'd place their selections all together on a tray. I'd come in and pour the coffee, then try to figure out who to serve which demitasse to — who chose what cup. And I often guessed right. The Demitasse Selection Personality Test.
I didn't start regularly using the cups for my solo coffee consumption until last Christmas when Sarah gave me that wonderful little espresso machine. (The demitasses are just the right size for those dense delicious little doses.) And then, of course, I found myself snapping photos. And then I started posting them. And now here we are, a bunch of posts later, having worked through a significant subset of the collection. (Though to be clear, a smallish subset. I've got a lot of these things.)
I won't deny, it's made my coffee drinking more complicated. (And this post is particularly complicated. This is actually yesterday's morning coffee, but I got lost in words — the footnotes always get me — and so it's a day late.) As the series grows, I have to work harder not to repeat myself, and with a brain like a steel sieve, this usually means scanning back through previous posts to double-check. (The series is now mainly a weekend affair. Weekday mornings don't allow for such dawdling.) But I don't mind. They're wondrous little things, and I'm happy to share.
2 These aren't museum pieces. We use them. Which means we lose them; occasional casualties are inevitable. C'est la vie. Nothing is forever.
I've had the cups for years, but we mostly used them on social occasions. The game was to let guests each choose their cup from the shelf (that photo is from this post) while I was in the kitchen making coffee. They'd place their selections all together on a tray. I'd come in and pour the coffee, then try to figure out who to serve which demitasse to — who chose what cup. And I often guessed right. The Demitasse Selection Personality Test.
I didn't start regularly using the cups for my solo coffee consumption until last Christmas when Sarah gave me that wonderful little espresso machine. (The demitasses are just the right size for those dense delicious little doses.) And then, of course, I found myself snapping photos. And then I started posting them. And now here we are, a bunch of posts later, having worked through a significant subset of the collection. (Though to be clear, a smallish subset. I've got a lot of these things.)
I won't deny, it's made my coffee drinking more complicated. (And this post is particularly complicated. This is actually yesterday's morning coffee, but I got lost in words — the footnotes always get me — and so it's a day late.) As the series grows, I have to work harder not to repeat myself, and with a brain like a steel sieve, this usually means scanning back through previous posts to double-check. (The series is now mainly a weekend affair. Weekday mornings don't allow for such dawdling.) But I don't mind. They're wondrous little things, and I'm happy to share.
2 These aren't museum pieces. We use them. Which means we lose them; occasional casualties are inevitable. C'est la vie. Nothing is forever.
"Nothin is forever.
ReplyDeleteAlways is a lie.
I can only love you
Till the day I die."
Saddest lyrics ever :-( (Sing Lily, Sing Lily, hi lo)
A sad lyric but a very fine one too.
DeleteThe song of love is a sad song
ReplyDeleteSing Lily, sing Lily, hi lo.
The song of love is a song of woe.
Don't ask me how I know.
The song of of love is a sad song,
. . .
(I forget the rest. Anybody know it?)
I like the juxtaposition of deep sorrow with sing-song nursery rhyme-like near-nonsense.
Delete