And Then There Was One

Mom & I spent a crazy summer together in Dallas, the summer before my Junior year. We lived with my Gram in an incredible house that was decorated to the nines and way more posh than I had ever lived in before. I spent most of my time working on my tan or in the pool while everyone else worked.

One night, we all went out to an artsy-fartsy part of Dallas…umm, help me out on this one, Aunt Tamie. And Mom bought this set of 6 coffee mugs. At the time I thought that they were so gaudy and the opposite of what I wanted to be. They seemed so earthy-flower-child-dirty-hippie to me. (No offense intended to anyone, I was an immature 16 year old.)

Somehow, Mom managed to move those mugs around with her in her travels across the Midwest over the next decade and when ever I would go to her house, I would grab one of these mugs and pour myself a huge cup of coffee. That’s the only reason I used the mugs, they simply held about a gallon of coffee. And Mom always had coffee on, night or day. Over the years, the numbers dwindled and after she died, I decided that I really wanted those mugs to come live at my house. As I matured, I came to appreciate them in their natural beauty. And I still like the sheer volume of liquid that they hold.

There were only two to be packed up at Mom’s house.

I broke one of them this past weekend.

I am going to try to superglue the handle back together and maybe use it as a paintbrush holder in the craft room. And I am thinking of putting the other one away in the china cabinet. Because they represent who Mom was to me in a way. Which I won’t get into here…I don’t feel like crying tonight.

Can anyone make out the artist’s signature? And how would I go about finding this artist to see if he/she still makes these kinds of mugs?

Peace.