An imperfect day

There has been a sad loss (not terribly sad, but somewhat sad) in my life lately.  You may have noticed in some of my photos, that I possess the perfect teacup.  I purchased it years ago at an after Christmas sale at an import store.  As you can see, it has a Christmas lion on it, and the lion’s little friend, a Christmas canary.  I still do possess it, but now it has one major imperfection.  A big crack!  For a long time, it had a little crack, but that didn’t really amount to an imperfection at all.  It simply added character.  Sadly, however, a few days ago, my perfect cup seemed to leap off the counter, and now the small crack has morphed into such a dangerous chasm that I fear that my little friend and companion will soon fall apart as I am drinking my tea, and I will end up with a lapful of hot, milky liquid.  So the search has been on for the perfect replacement.  Alas, the search has been, so far, unsuccessful.  Samos got me a very nice cup, and it is perfect for my evening hot Ovaltine, but not quite perfect for tea.  It is a little too small for tea (my tea needs are humungous) , but just the right the evening cuppa something else.  Why does the cup need to be such a specific size, you might ask?  Well, I make my tea downstairs, but usually drink it upstairs.  In bed, if you must know.  With the morning paper or the evening book.  I used to make a little pot and bring that upstairs with a little jug of milk.  However, Margaret felt that the milk was for her, and I didn’t want to share, so this became impractical.  Now, I just bring up a cup, and then go back downstairs for a refill.  So the perfect sized cup is one which holds just enough tea to sate me a bit, but not so much that the tea cools before I am finished with it. 

There were cups just the right size and texture at World Market at Christmas time, but not only did they not have a lion, but they did have silly ballet dancers, and you had to buy four.  Knowing that this day was coming, I considered, but I didn't care for the ballet dancers.  Four was the real deal breaker.  I only want one.  I went on a search a few days ago, visiting the likely cup selling spots, and found none that even came close.  I went back to Word Market, and found several that did come close, but of course, they were “no cigar.”  Most of them had offensive sayings on them, primarily involving coffee.  Coffee will not sully my cup, and so I don’t want reminders of it on the cup surface.  This one was the most innocuous – “Good Morning”.  I fear that coffee was implied, but as it was not explicitly stated, I can deal with it for now.  The search, however,  continues.