I went to Christkindlmarket at four, before the offices let out. Glühwein, a potato pancake and a place at a barrel table with people I didn't know. There was a little snow on the Picasso. It was a very good afternoon for it.
The new mug brings the pantry shelf to thirty-one. They are in order from left to right. I prefer the boots, but I have kept the other shapes too. Once I've had the drink out of one, I don't want to return it.
Jonathan calls the shelf “the shrine” and says he has nothing to do with it. He dusts it. I have seen him, and now Brian has also caught it on a camera through the pantry window. He sent the clip with “subject exhibits reverence” in the note. I haven't shown Jonathan.
The oldest boot has a chip from the move. The mitten holds toothpicks, which suit it better than glühwein. I keep the mug from the year the market closed a little apart from the others. I bought it by mail. It never had an afternoon at the plaza.
This year's is a snowman. The glaze on mine ran at the scarf, and the woman offered to change it. I kept it. It is already on the shelf, with the scarf facing out.
— Ash