It’s Oscar night, which obviously means I’m writing about mugs.
Okay, there really is no connection at all, but I’m fairly focussed on the Oscars, so you’ll forgive me a little bit of rambling, I hope. For the record: if I were allowed to vote, I would vote for Boyhood for best picture.
So I have a bit of a problem when it comes to mugs. I LOVE mugs. I love them too much. I love them to the point that I scour used stuff stores, yard sales, whatever, looking for odd, interesting or unique mugs. Unfortunately, I also seem to attract an assortment of less interesting mugs, and they seem to have multiplied on my shelf. Solomon has been after me for days to get rid of them. Maybe even weeks…
My family will laugh at me for getting rid of the Cora mugs. As I mentioned yesterday, Cora is my favourite restaurant of all time. They are kind of a shoe-in, though, in that they make breakfast food which is my favourite kind of food.
When we lived in Montreal, we used to eat a Chez Cora (as it is called there) as often as I could convince Mike to go…and every time I visited my ObGyn when I was pregnant with Max. That doctor was thoughtful enough to locate his office 2 doors down from a Chez Cora. I know. He really was a great doctor.
In any case, you can imagine my joy when, a few years after we’d moved here, Cora announced it would be opening a restaurant a mere 5 minutes from my house! Oh, the unadulterated joy. Assuming that everyone would be as overjoyed as me (and, remembering the long line-ups at most Montreal locations except the secret one we stumbled across one day…but that is another story) I planned to be there early on opening day. Then, they announced they would be giving out FREE mugs. I talked my mother, father, sister, and brother-in-law into joining me for the moment it opened, assuring them there would be hysteria along with the free mugs.
First, I got the opening time wrong (whoops, 7:00am is not nearly as crazy as 6:00am), and then I got the line-ups very, very wrong. I think we were one of 3 tables. It’s since gotten far, far busier.
Snickering up their sleeves a little, my sister, her husband, and my parents, all happily donated the mugs to me.
The mugs are too small. They hold half of what I like to have in an average cup of tea or coffee. I’ve held onto them all this time. But now, now that I’m letting go of bad decisions and admitting my mistakes, now I’m ready to wish them well.
I still love you Cora, I swear.
Day 115 Scorecard: 575 down, 1,250 to go