One down, five to find. Judging by its contents, some creepy crawlers take their coffee with cream and sugar, too.
I like old coffee cups, the chubby ceramic kind well suited for a beverage called Joe. When daylight and I are on the same schedule, I usually take a brief stroll, coffee cup in hand as I remind Boz and Gracie that there is a purpose to this abbreviated walk. I’ve yet to find a word (and there are quite a few available) that connects my voice with their brain and elicits the intended response. Good thing they’re cute.
So today when my cupboard was bare of coffee cups, I had an inkling of where to look: down the lane on any number of old cedar fence posts–each a perfect coffee table and place to plead one’s case that sniffing is not the only thing on the morning agenda.