Tim caught me drinking from his cowboy cup

It is my tradition that the day after I return from a trip, I go out for breakfast. These days, this means I go to Abby's. No, I did not get home from a trip yesterday. I took this image on March 16, the day after I returned from a trip to Anaktuvuk Pass. That night, I made a selection of pictures from breakfast, including this one, and loaded them into my blog. But I was too tired to write anything, so I just went to bed, thinking I would write the text the next day, but I didn't. I just let the pictures sit unposted in the blog draft until tonight, more than a month later.

Now, I will revisit that day, add a couple of more recent images and finish with one from today.

As you can see, March 16 began with coffee - served to me in Tim's cowboy cup. This was okay, because Tim was not in the restaurant and so had no need of the cup.

I didn't realize there was a picture to be taken here until the last instant, just before Martina removed her hand from the cup. In my hurry, I wound up focusing on the honey instead of the cup.

Oh, no! I had barely begun to sip my coffee, when in walked Tim with grandson Wesley. I was really worried. Hurriedly, I looked for a place to hide the cowboy mug and scanned the room to see if there was a chicken cup I could grab so it would like I had been drinking from it all along.

There were no hiding places. There were no chicken cups to be grabbed.

Both Tim and Wesley eyeballed me and Tim's cowboy cup pretty good. They were really quiet. Then I saw Tim's mouth begin to transition into talking mode. I was really worried he would scold me good, seeing as how I had his cowboy cup.

Instead, he told me about a caribou he shot one day, just between summer coat and fall coat, at the right time to get its fur in the best condition. He tanned the hide, then took it up camping in the high country of the Talkeetna Mountains. At night, he would wrap himself up in that caribou hide. Sometimes it snowed heavyily, but he didn't care. Wrapped in his caribou hide, he was snug and warm.

Abby came along and gave Wesley a nice pat on the head.

Then we all ate - nobody said anything about me drinking out of Tim's cowboy cup - but we all knew. I couldn't hide the fact.

Wesley admired his grandpa's beard.

His grandpa admired Wesley. We all left shortly after that. I was glad to walk out as healthy as I walked in.

Some might remember that Tim originally had a different cowboy cup. It was his very favorite. He knew that I was a great admirer of that cup and so he brought this one in for me to use. Then there was a terrible accident. Tim's favorite cowboy cup took a fall and got broken. The thought of Tim not having a cowboy cup waiting for him at Abby's was pretty unbearable for all of us and so, in act of pure altruism, I told Abby I would be quite happy to have my coffee served in chicken cups from then on.

Yet, sometimes when I came in and Tim wasn't there and no one expected him any time soon, I still got the cowboy cup.

Funny thing, though - after Tim came in and caught me drinking from it on March 16, I didn't get that cup again. I didn't see Tim, either. Some days I got the chicken cup, some days plain cups and one day I got the grizzly bear "Homeland Security" cup - but never the cowboy cup.

And then, on April 16, a stranger came in. He got the cowboy cup.

His daughter was mighty proud of him. He deserved it, she said with her eyes. I didn't.

AND THEN... last Saturday, the same Saturday we brought my grandson ruffians in for breakfast and they raised havoc... more than one month after I had last seen Tim or drank from the cowboy cup, I got the cowboy cup again.

And again I had barely begun to drink from it when in walked Tim and Wesley. "It's okay," Tim said after he drew his chicken cup. "You're keepin it warm."

This morning, I went back to Abby's, just as I have done just about every day since Margie headed down south to Arizona. I ate oatmeal and drank my coffee from a chicken cup. As I was about to leave, Tim walked in by himself. Abby brought him his coffee - in his cowboy cup!

Once again, the world was just as it should be. At least here, at Abby's Home Cooking in Wasilla, Alaska, USA, Planet Earth.

Comments

[Jo-Ann]

Bill, thank you for all your postings. I love them. These are all family I know and love. I will soon get to see them all again very soon. I include you and many more as my good friends, and am looking forward to a big hug. When I left to go home last year, you were still very sore from your surgery and that wasn,t possible. I so miss your beautiful state, it gives me such joy. I almost feel like one of the locals, at least for the 5-6 weeks I,m there. Please give my best to Margie, and I have hopes of another meet with her as well. Keep up the good work.

[debby]

You know Bill: Lucky for you that Tim is a kindly grandpa sort.

[Kelly]

Oh my the picture of Wesley and his Grandfather is so beautiful!