I love this big old house...and the little adventures that come with it

We live in a big old house (circa 1880) in a small town. When we moved here I said I wanted to live in an old farm house, but one right in the middle of town. We found one. I love it. It's just my wife and I, and we have a lot of space. Really a lot of space. Six bedrooms, big dining room, a cavernous living room...and one bathroom. This place was built when "flush" was something your face did when you exerted yourself, and not a means of waste disposal.

One of the adventures I have in this house with some frequency is a little game I never play on purpose. I like to call the game "Where the hell is my coffee cup?" Anyone can play, but I usually play it alone. When I say the name of the game out loud, my wife becomes deaf. The only indication that she's alive at all is the grin on her face and the little twinkle in her eye.

Realizing I'm left to play the game by myself, I start trying to trace my footsteps. My writing office is upstairs...and I usually start the game at my desk. The coffee isn't on my desk or I would have found something more productive to do than play a quick round of  "Where the hell is my coffee cup?"

Then I'm forced to go for a hike. I wander down the stairs, sometimes passing the coffee cup on the landing (where I put it so I could get down on the floor and pet a cat), sometimes finding the coffee cup on the dining room table. Don't know why I would put a coffee mug on the dining room table. Obviously that thing is there to put other stuff on.... What kind of stuff, I don't know. It's almost never food. I mentioned there's only two of us, didn't I?

Then I pass through the kitchen, usually with a glance at the coffee maker. Sometimes the mug is there. If it's there it's because I got distracted when I meant to refill it...usually by something in the fridge. The fridge! Yes, I have found my coffee mug--cold--in the fridge. You need to set something down to grab a snack, and there are handy-dandy shelves in the fridge.

Most of the time I give the mug o' coffee up for dead. Then I go to the cupboard (sometimes finding the mug full of cold coffee in there next to the other mugs) and get a fresh mug. I pour another cup of coffee hoping that someday, maybe someday, the old one will surface.

Then I remember that I had to go to the bathroom and didn't want coffee at all. It's the start of another round!