Fly Shop Coffee

John Gierach once wrote an essay entitled Camp Coffee in which he described in detail the enjoyment of taking a break while on the river--a stop to look around...smell the roses...don't be in such a hurry to get to where you are going. To die. I guess. Valid point, loved the story. But most of my coffee is consumed in a fly shop. Not along the South Platte. Sure...I work there, and we keep a peg board above the coffee maker with at least two dozen mugs hanging. Some of the mugs have been claimed (by a long-time customer, guide or shop employee) but most, for all intents and purposes, are considered communal. For use by any of our friends and customers who are in need of a hot drink or a little mid-morning kick. And there in lies the problem...most of the mugs are communal. Those of us with our own mugs hanging have tried, in vain, to mark and/or distinguish our mugs as ours...private mugs. Nothing seems to work. Not Sharpie pens, Babcocks! Don't Use! ...nothing.

But, I think I have finally solved the problem. Since I switched to this nice blue mug, I have not once had to wrestle it away from a friend or stranger. I get some odd looks and questions from time to time...people think I am a bit macabre...but, then again, I think they already knew...