I don’t know about you, but I often find myself undertaking odd household safaris under cover of darkness.
Late last night I was inexplicably drawn to see if I could find more room in the kitchen cupboard where my glasses and coffee mugs live. Why I couldn’t jam that last clean glass back into the mug cupboard was a mystery that needed MacGyver-ing, and fast.
If you’ve checked out my Instagram feed lately, you’ll know I’m totally obsessed with my yellow and white striped cup from IKEA – I rarely use anything else these days for my morning coffee.
After the mandatory 3.5 hour OH&S workshop on safely reaching into dark cupboards, I was ready to discover the truth. I don’t believe it would be overstating it to say that I now feel qualified to add ‘mug midwife’ to my CV. There were 30 of the buggers in there – that’s quite a litter!
I gave those poor, dusty, unloved mugs a warm bath and let them acclimatise to their new surrounds by roaming free range on the kitchen bench. Not one mug leapt to a shattering end overnight, so I was confident that they were ready for the next phase of their new, free lives.
As luck would have it, I have a contact at Natural Mugographic who has been commissioned to photograph a new series called ‘Urban Safaris’, so once the chopper was within range, I joyfully set those mugs free. It was one of the most moving things I’ve ever witnessed.
As loyal blog followers, you’re the first to see these striking images, which will be featured in the May issue of Natural Mugographic, with an accompanying feature story – MUGS IN THE WILD. There’s more than just the beauty of seeing those mugs return to their natural habitat, there are important mugological discoveries to be made.
See how the mugs travel in a large pack, some defensively rotating their handles anti-clockwise, or in layman’s terms, loosey lefty, while some take the more dominant right-handed stance. This makes them harder to capture. Astonishing.
And here, a small group of mugs gets separated from the herd and shelters together under a tree. They’re almost discovered by their natural enemy, the brick, but their foliage inspired plumage means they manage to escape the brick’s predatorial gaze.
On the long journey back to their herd, the mugs performed a never-before-captured feat. They scaled a rocky mountain range to scope out the harsh landscape….
See how the much maligned chevron mug risks handle and life, to stand guard while the greener mugs approach a watering hole. These mugs really are a family – they stick together.
Eventually, the chopper had to return to base to refuel, and as dusk fell, I watched the last of those freedom loving mugs rejoin the herd, and I knew, deep in my soul, that somewhere, somehow they were going to make it.
Somehow it seemed like those feisty little ceramic mugs were trying to tell me something. Something important, a message from the universe….
Are you a midwife of mugs, or a keeper of clothes, or a wrangler of other formerly wild, but now domesticated stuff?
What’s lurking in your cupboards? I’d love to hear about it.