bonny it is too bad you don't have a cat. You could put potting soil in the mug and plant cat grass. And anyone who asks, you say, "Mr. Muffins got the awesome mug because democracy is soooo important and so is nibbling greens," when people ask. But what only you would know is that inside what you really mean is, "Eat dirt, you nasty printed mug!"

Does everyone but me love printed mugs?

Only speaking for myself, I'm far more particular about what goes *in* my mug than what's on it. I'm lucky enough to have a good size collection of handmade mugs, so I can enjoy both.

Does everyone but me love printed mugs?

Depends on what's printed on it. Some of them are pretty passive-aggressive.

There may be one or two solid colored mugs in my cupboard. None of them are white, and I don't own a single plain white dish.

All of my dishware and mugs are patterned or printed. Some of the dishware matches. I don't have a lot of printed mugs, though. One from my work, and two from Leverage cons, and one from my college.

"Eat dirt, you nasty printed mug!"

I'm more of a live-and-let-mug kinda gal, but funny you should mention the cat grass. I'm thinking about sprouting seeds at home. I never considered using mugs for that purpose, but hey that could work.

I'm lucky enough to have a good size collection of handmade mugs, so I can enjoy both.

I adore handmade pottery. A good friend makes beautiful stuff, but they don't nest well and, uneven lines! I can't do it.

Depends on what's printed on it. Some of them are pretty passive-aggressive.

Right? There are days when I don't feel like "The World's Greatest Mom" and, rather than feeling inspired by the print, I think I'd feel mocked by it.

I don't own a single plain white dish.

Really?

There was a lovely little restaurant in the neighborhood whose design was ALL mismatch...linens in contrasting patterns, etc. There wasn't more than one of any pattern anywhere in the place. I found it totally charming but, if I tried that at home, I fear I'd have a headache all the time.

Wow. I'm way more of a delicate flower than even I imagined.

I have some plain black mugs , but all of my printed mugs were gifts. So I love my printed mugs because they are reminders of people and places. Though I do go through and cull them every so often, because they breed.

I buy mugs if their color or shape speak to me. I have a lot of blue mugs. Some green.

I don't own a single plain white dish.

Guys, I CAN'T WAIT to register for dishes. Before I moved in with Tim, I had a nice set of white Pfalztgraff dishes I inherited from a member of the FAC who got married and got Fiestaware. When I moved in with Tim, those went in the attic (seriously, he's got to have a niece or nephew who needs them; they're going to waste up there), because he already had his ridiculous hodgepodge of chipped mismatched plates in the pantry. (There was a Serious Argument about using his crazy bachelor plates versus my matching plates. I gave in, since my plates were already boxed up.)

But I HATE the crazy mismatched chipped bachelor plates, and after 5 years, he's cool with registering* for new ones and sending the bachelor plates to Goodwill.

*(He's actually fairly conflicted about registering, because he thinks it "isn't fair" because he already had a wedding and registered for stuff -- most of which his ex took when they got divorced, and the remainder of which is old and/or ridiculous [hello, giant blue elephant statue I AM NOT MAKING THIS UP; I'll have to post a picture of it] -- so we shouldn't ask for stuff "again." I have had to tell him several times that [1] our family and friends WANT to give us things, so figure out what we need, shut up, and register, and [2] if it helps his tortured conscience, he can think of it as stuff for ME, because *I* didn't already have a wedding and get a ridiculous blue elephant statue. [God, I am going to smash that thing with a hammer if it's not gone by the time we get married.])

In conclusion, NEW PLATES FOR ME, WOO.

t edit Actually, since his ex now lives up the street from us -- I KNOW I've told that story, right? -- I could smuggle the damn blue elephant statue onto her porch under cover of night. Of course, she'd figure out who it came from, but it would be out of our house.