During the summer I had some time for a few yard sales and a few visits to antique stores, and for lack of a better word, junk stores. I love “junking.” I think of “junking” as a time of a great quest. Of course, I am always on the lookout for a good book. However, this summer I found myself acquiring a variety of old mismatched tea cups and not quite as many books. The teacups were just a whimsical purchase. I certainly do not need any teacups, nor was I in the mood for hot tea in the hot summer weather. After a lot of thinking, I believe the quest for teacups came from my summer reading of a vast number of British mysteries where the characters ruminated and refreshed themselves with copious cups of tea.
Every time one of my characters had a cup of tea, I thought about one of the teacups I had purchased. I sometimes felt like I was having tea right along with my sleuth. I think it is safe to say I made a connection with my reading. Connections to reading can come in the form of a personal connection, a connection to the world, or a connection to another text. I managed to make all three connections as I thought about my teacups while I happily read along.
Now, I am thinking ahead to colder months when I can actually drink a hot cup of tea as I read a cozy mystery. To practice for my winter reading, on some mornings, I am drinking my coffee out of the diminutive cups. I am sure my British characters would not approve, and I am finding I have to fill my small cups a lot. Alas, though, I do love the delicate flowers on each cup I purchased, so filling again and again is a pleasure.
I continue to be amazed at how reading affects so many aspects of my life.