My mom and I collected mugs for a while. She bought a lot more of them than I did because me being on Disability, the money did not go too far., I have some on my bookshelves and around.

There were some she had decorating the kitchen on hooks. When Alex came home, he kept breaking them, so I took some down.

This one I used last night was hers. I think I am amping up to do it again.

Sleep, who needs it?

Sometimes I dream of opening up a shop where coffee is served in mom’s mugs, and I pick a book after talking for a few minutes with the customer. If they sit down and decide, they want one or both the things I chose; I sell them. Otherwise, they return them, and all they are out is the cost of a coffee and maybe a pastry.

My son says it could work, but I have no money for space. I think, since I have been told, I can see into a person’s soul that I would be oftener right than mistaken.

Know anybody who would invest in such an idea? Yeah, me neither.

© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan