Lost and Found

A camping dispatch, from MacKerricher State Park, just north of Fort Bragg, CA

(One of my favorite places on the planet)

Wednesday morning. Last day of our three night trip. Heading home soon, after packing up camp and a final walk on the boardwalk, to say goodbye to the seals and the pelicans.

Nearly 8:00 am now, and I am sitting in the car, because everything outside is wet. It did not rain (unfortunately), but still, everything is wet. The table. The kitchen towels and rags hung out to dry. The cast iron pan. The tablecloth. The chairs.

We didn’t have much luck starting a fire last night. We did not have much luck any night, actually. Perhaps the wood we bought from the lady in the pickup truck on the side of the road just out of town was damp. Perhaps we are not the best fire makers. Anyway. All was not lost, because we were able to get enough of a fire going last night to roast marshmallows for a few minutes. We were lucky that my neighbor gave me half a watermelon before we left, and it came in two very sturdy Whole Foods paper sacks that we brought along. Good thing we had those bags. They were the only thing that enabled us to roast marshmallows for a few minutes.

(Also? I think campfires are a little overrated. No matter where I sit, I get smoke in my face. And when you get home, if you’ve had several nights of roaring fires, everything smells like smoke and has to be washed with at least one and occasionally two extra rinses. So much laundry! Without the campfires? It’s not as overwhelming.)

Anyway. At 9:00 pm, it’s close to bedtime at home, so after a long day outside, with some sun one day and not so much sun the other, but sunburns all the same, we were OK with heading to the tent and turning off the flashlights.

But here is something unbelievable.

I just found my Starbucks cup.

(If you missed my weekly Sunday letter where I tell the story of my angst over losing the Starbucks cup in great detail, drop me a note at robin@ordinaryholy.com and I will be happy to forward it to you. Also, why not sign up for my Sunday letter list? More communication! More connection.)

Somehow, that cup was in the camping cupboard.

I do not know how that was even possible.

Because I looked there, ever so closely. Several times!

So much unnecessary angst about that.

My angst was about the cup, and (as you probably figured) also not about the cup.

Because sometimes I am not remembering words as quickly (or people’s names. Or where I put my phone) as I want to or as I used to. At times, it takes a second in my head to spit out the thing that I know is there. So misplacing the cup triggered me a little. How could I lose something like a cup, my new special cup, when I was sure I put it in the cupboard, but clearly it is not there? Maybe there is something going wrong with me, and the first subtle hints are appearing, and that of course is scary and disheartening.

In the end, I didn’t misplace the cup. I just wasn’t very good at looking for it. Although how it managed to hide so completely in such a small space is hard to imagine.

But a good thing that came from this strange episode: we went to the Starbucks here in Fort Bragg, because I was desperate to replace this cup, the one that my daughter got for me in Los Angeles and transported to Sacramento in her carry on bag. I asked the barista if they had one like it, and he said, “I think I know exactly what you are talking about!” And he pulled out a cup! The same blue one with a plant on it and the “Sip Sustainably” logo.

Yes! I said.

I went to pay, and he said, “Oh no. It’s on us. I love your energy.”

(Really. He said that!)

Then he pulled out a straw and handed it to me. The straw that went with the cup.

Oh no.

It wasn’t the same cup. 

It was a bigger cup, designed for cold drinks with a nifty straw.

At that point, I was not going to say, “Oh no! That is not the right cup after all. Do you have any other ones?”

Nope. If you know me at all, you will not be surprised that I simply smiled and said thank you so very much!

Brought it back to the car. Looked appropriately disappointed. My children wondered what was wrong. I had a cup!

Who knew they had different styles of the same design?

“It’s OK,” my daughter said. “We can look at another Starbucks. Or I’ll just get you another one when I get home.”

On the bright side? My daughter now has a nice reusable Starbucks cup that she can use for her iced coffee.

And in the end, I found my cup after all.

It’s embarrassing to admit how much of an effect that seemingly minor incident had on me. It sure wasn’t nothing. Anxious much? Apparently, yes. It didn’t ruin my time with my kids, or my enjoyment of our trip, but it colored it a little. I think I do this a lot, unfortunately. Little things pop up, and I give them weight, make them important, when really? They are nothing. They shouldn’t even show up on my scale.

More to think about.

I’m afraid it’s going to take more than a cup of tea or two (in a nice, reusable blue cup) to sort this one out.