How do you view your coffee (or in my case, tea) mug? As something boring and utilitarian? Or as something joyful and artistic?

In essence that’s the question Kate is asking this week in her Listography. She wants to see five of our favourite mugs.

Well you’ll be glad to know I’m not going to show you five of mine. I’ll show you one, because I tend to the view that the coffee mug is something utilitarian and generally boring.

As far as I’m concerned a mug has to fulfil just a few simple criteria: it must be dishwasher proof, fairly straight-sided (I can’t abide flared or fancy shapes), with no daft slogans or girlie pictures, made of pottery (unless for the consumption of alcohol when glass is de rigueur). Most importantly they must hold a pint of liquid.

Yes, I drink everything by the pint. I can’t be doing with silly little cups that hold half a mouthful.

So here is the tea mug I’m drinking from while writing this …

This one was made by John Leach at Muchelney, Somerset. I have two or three of these mugs (which hold about a pint) and we also have a selection of other Leach kitchenware pots, all of which are used. I do love John Leach pottery which is fired in a Japanese-style wood burning kiln to give it those wonderful colours and a rough finish. It is wonderful stuff to look at and to use; it is about my only concession to the arty in mugs — well in china at all, really. And no wonder. John Leach is the eldest grandson of master potter Bernard Leach, and son of David Leach. So pottery is in his blood; it has been his life’s work and passion.

If you’re anywhere near Somerset, do go to John Leach’s pottery at Muchelney where they have a shop and a small art gallery. You might well meet the potters too. And while there make sure to visit Muchelney church to see the wonderful décolleté angels on the ceiling.

[Hint: Take your satnav. Muchelney is one of those places that is impossible to find. I think we’ve got lost every time we’ve been there!]

Apart from these by John Leach my other tea/coffee mugs are all plain boring pottery. And you all know what a plain boring pottery mug looks like.

Experiment, week 11. This week’s five things which have made me happy or for which I’m grateful.

1. Hypnotherapy. I’ve been having hypnotherapy now for a year or 18 months in an effort to shift the problems underlying my depression and weight. It’s been an interesting voyage. We haven’t yet fixed the problems yet, but Chris (who has also been my osteopath for the last 25+ years) and I remain hopeful. But I’m clearly his challenge case. While I can be hypnotised I don’t respond easily because my brain is so controlling and analytical it sees through whatever is being done, knows what’s coming next, keeps monitoring everything and thus never allows itself to properly dissociate the conscious and subconscious. But we’re making progress; techniques are being found to confuse my brain into submission; and I’ve discovered quite a lot of interesting stuff along the way. Besides it’s an interesting experience as well as very relaxing.



2. Haggis. Last Wednesday (25 January) was Burns’ Night when, in homage to our Scots ancestry (Noreen’s actual; mine a family myth never proven) we always have the traditional haggis. So many people don’t like (the thought of) haggis. We love it. It is really only a variation on sausage but made from bits of sheep rather than bits of pig. OK, yes, they’re offal-ly bits but then so has a lot of sausage always been. It’s tasty, filling and good comfort food for the depths of winter. When I was a student in York the nearest fish and chip shop to the university campus used to do deep-fried battered haggis (small sausage-sized ones) which was brilliant with chips on a cold winter night after a few pints.
3. Jubilate Agno. A chunk of blogging last week centred around the literature we studied at school (see here and here): thoughts prompted by Katyboo. This brought back to me Christopher Smart‘s Jubilate Agno which I have loved ever since we first sang Benjamin Britten’s setting when in the school choir. It’s quite long and, in amongst a host of strange religious themes, word- and rhyme-play etc., contains a homage to his cat Jeoffry. It was written in the 1750s/60s when Smart was confined to a mad house with religious mania.

   For I will consider my Cat Jeoffry.
   For he is the servant of the Living God, duly and daily serving him.
   For at the first glance of the glory of God in the East he worships in his way.
   For is this done by wreathing his body seven times round with elegant quickness.
   …
   For in his morning orisons he loves the sun and the sun loves him.
   For he is of the tribe of Tiger.
   For the Cherub Cat is a term of the Angel Tiger.
   For he has the subtlety and hissing of a serpent, which in goodness he suppresses.
   For he will not do destruction if he is well-fed, neither will he spit without provocation.
   For he purrs in thankfulness when God tells him he’s a good Cat.
   For he is an instrument for the children to learn benevolence upon.
   For every house is incomplete without him, and a blessing is lacking in the spirit.

4. Crocuses. I noticed today that we have the first few crocuses in flower, and the cyclamen down under the fruit bushes has been out for a week or two. While it is a bit early for crocuses — so they may be very confused Autumn Crocuses — it is surely a sign that Spring is on the way.
5. Katy. Our blogging friend Katy escaped from her tribe of urchins for a weekend’s downtime in London. It was lovely to be able to give her a bed for the night and share a leisurely Saturday evening and Sunday morning of real live chat, food, wine and coffee. Katy is always delightful company!