Getting the Kinks Out

Ever since a spring garden show that included my soaps (even gardeners need to scrub with delightful natural soaps, yes?), I've been mulling over how to present this story.  It goes along well with my usual blunder through life blissfully oblivious to the undercurrent that everyone else seems to intrinsically understand.  Perhaps my son is right, that I do need a Keeper.  It's certainly very embarrassing to reach the wise old age of 62 and not be all that wise.  Or savvy.  Or Hip, With it, Tres Drole.

The special events coordinator/studio manager at the community art studio I attend is always looking for new talent to include in the twice a year special art sales.  I was glad to recommend this particular artist I'd met at a fun one day event, and bought one of her fabulous Nesting Balls for birds to pick bits and pieces of natural cashmere fibers, wool and strings for their nests.  She also had beautifully crafted baby booties, caps and slippers made from cashmere.   I thought her nesting balls would be the perfect unique item for a Spring Garden Show!

So being the media savvy person our S.E. Coordinator is, she did a wider web search and found our artist had a second business, catering to the 50 Shades crowd with personal products for the boudoir.  I was, as usual, dumbfounded, more than a bit embarrassed, and then decided, what the heck. Embrace the absurdity of the Universe and just laugh about it all.  She did very well at our garden sale, selling her bird nesting globes. You can do your own investigation into her other business by googling cashmere and swoon.

Well, as my sainted Benedictine cousin would say, in her crystal clear principal's voice, "That's enough of that!!".

T to B. Lavender, Tea Tree with Charcoal to clarify,
Madder Root infused with Cranberry Fig Fragrance

I've loaded up a kilns worth of pieces to bisque tonight, it seems the kiln always ends up running on some of the hottest days.  Loading is not my favorite thing to do, the pieces are extremely fragile and I managed to break the foot ring off a bowl, chip the rim of a vase, and the handle from a mug.  Grrrrr!!

Once the pieces emerge from the bisque, it's time to stir up the glazes and do the dipping and back into the kiln for the glaze firing.  If anyone asks why does handmade pottery cost so much, compared to the cheap slip cast and toxic glazed ware from China, this is why. From wet clay to thrown piece, then trimmed and air dried, bisque fire of 12 hours, then glazed and fired another 12 hours.  I estimate handling one piece probably a dozen times from wedged lump to thrown to trimmed to adding a handle or other attachment, drying shelf, bisque load, unload, glaze, reload, fire again, unload, price, and transport to customer or gift shop.

Experimenting with a wall piece, imagining bright red poppies on a field of white

I have to photograph my soap for a Holiday application due early August and get that submitted. It's hard to kick my brain into gear for winter and think cold and snow.  Although with the high 90s predicted for the next two days, and high humidity, it sounds very appealing.  The Spousal Unit and I have a loving, ongoing dispute with the air conditioning setting.  I would love it to be set in the 60s, while he's content near 80.  I've warned him that a jury of my peers, being older women post menopause with power surges, would not convict me.  Step away from the keypad.  Just keep walking.  If I had the ability to transport the emoticons from my phone it would be flame, snowflake, flame, snowflake.

Stay frosty my friends.

Irony

I've been feeling a bit Irony lately, my dependable workhorse of an iron went all wonky, refusing to come to temperature.  With my pressing needs for quilting that just isn't a good thing.  So off to the store to purchase an updated iron, with a wonderful 12 foot cord that swivels in the socket, an enormous water reservoir so I don't have to fill it constant for steam, and best of all, it has 6 heat settings.  Doesn't take much to please me these days!

Much better.

Pet me.  Now.

Irony: Feeling great affection for the very creature that would cause my allergic demise without the miracle of modern medicine.

The lovely person who is Mr. Macaroni's personal care attendant makes frequent image recordings of his handsome self.  He has become a loving cuddle bug, so different from his old frightened feral self.

 Irony: Disliking heights and flying machines and having an adult son who adores extreme adventure and not being content to merely be outstanding in his field(s), occasionally flies above them.

Irony: being dependent on my hands for all that I do, pottery, sewing, typing, and having the gradual handicap of arthritis.  One of the challenges of potter's games at the art center's annual fundraiser is to sit on a tall stool and throw a pot with bare feet.  I hope it doesn't come to that, but I probably should start toe exercises just to discover how nimble and strong those digits are. who knows, it might start a new pottery revolution! And think of the exfoliation benefit to rough callouses!

Namaste

A Warm Week on the Edge of the Prairie

Click any photo to enlarge

 It's been a hot week here on the edge of the prairie, even I had to admit defeat and turn on the air conditioning for relief.  A big storm blew through our state, knocking down trees, destroying property and cutting power to thousands in the lakes resort area.  The city park on the opposite side of our lake had a few large trees come down as well, but the wildflowers are out in profusion and are such a treat for the eye and spirit.  The herons were their usual cool kids self, out standing in their pond looking stately and aloof.  Why do you never see them as a couple, only solitary birds in need of Match.com for avians.  This morning a family of 4 fisher kits played in, on and around our wood pile.  What a treat to watch these comic babies tumble and leap around each other, momma nowhere to be seen.  We've kept our back yard as natural as possible just for this type of reward, to see the birds and animals thrive in their environment.

Since it's uncomfortable to spend much time outdoors, after a daily walk I've given the gardens a cursory weeding but largely head down to my studio for the coolness of the basement.  Do you think being a potter is all glamor with eager art patrons clamoring to purchase?

Well, after I duck the paparazzi and deflect the calls from eager gallery owners and museum exhibits, it's time to reclaim all the trimmings and create spots to dry out the slop enough to wedge it into throwing clay again.

After watching a cooking show I had the light bulb moment thinking, Ah HA!  I should make garlic grater bowls, to emulsify a clove in the bowl that you then add olive oil to and use for dipping lovely crusty bread into.

Throwing butter dishes has been a challenge I was determined to master this summer, more than a few went into the reclaim bucket but finally there are a few butter bells that are ready to go in the bisque kiln.  Like everything else in life, it's just a matter of practice and getting over the frustration of failure.  A wise person reminded me: "it's just clay".

The  heat is expected to last throughout the weekend, The Spousal Unit and I will be traipsing around St. Paul on a tour with the Minnesota History Museum.  They offer an amazing variety of historic tours year round, this one is a walking tour of breweries with, of course, tastings along the way.  It'll sure feel good with a heat index over 100!

Stay Frosty My Friends.

The Up North Experience

Well you all know how passionately we love the UP, Michigan's Upper Pensinsula which is home to my family and of course the University the Spousal Unit and I graduated from, lo those many years ago.  We tried to squeeze as much family and friends into a week as is humanely possible, and had the best weather for all but one very rainy day.  The air is just so fresh and crisp and clean, it's easy to understand why so many of the well to do traveled North 100 years ago "for their health".  The scenery is always breathtaking, with massive forests and deep blue lakes and the grand one of all, Superior almost always within view.

Beautiful Lake Areflin

The breakwater in Marquette's harbor

Lighthouse at the end of the Harbor

Wildflowers add a beautiful spot of color 

 I had decided to treat us to a new camera that is as small and lightweight as a phone, and it decided to be temperamental for several days leaving a gap in our recording images.  This was taken on the northern west edge of the Keweenaw Peninsula close to the Society of St. John's Holy Transfiguration Skete and their business, The Jam Pot.  The monks have created a phenomenal business selling jams, jellies, candy, cookies and muffins to locals and tourists, it has turned from a sleepy little venture into a tremendous operation.
They have kept the little store they began their business in, but have added a warehouse and secondary building to accommodate supplies, inventory and an expanded candy making room.

This year there was a gentle stone ramp and retaining wall with plantings to make access to the building easier and beautiful.  The shop is only a stone's throw from Jacob's Falls, a lovely waterfall that cascades down a small cliff face to run into Lake Superior.  The views from the Monastery windows must be spectacular for the monks, with the nearest landfall nearly 60 miles away at Isle Royale.  The gales of November must also be quite intimidating when the Lake turns violent and stormy.

There is a sign on the doors in the middle of the photo that warns drivers "Thou Shalt Not Park Here", which I find amusing.  I wish there was also a dispensation for all the calories that grace the divine cookies we managed to eat after our visit.  We came away with 15 jars of jam, hopefully enough to last us another year until next summer's trip to the Northland.  The shop is only open from May through mid October.  There's a web site should you be tempted to order online.

While we were in Marquette we stopped into a pottery gallery right at the base of the ore loading docks, at the entrance to Presque Isle.  Ed Risak, his wife, and now their daughter make gorgeous raku fired pieces with a sprayed copper glaze that turns into a velvet looking northern light surface.  It wasn't possible to leave without taking this sweet little pot home with us.  Their studio has suffered a major loss with a fire that destroyed their kiln shed and two kilns, and partially damaged their studio wall.  Insurance won't cover replacement of their equipment, well meaning friends have started a funding page for them.  Artists often live a precarious financial life, even those who have great talent are at the mercy of chance and the vagaries of the economy.

The Spousal Unit was insistent that we stop at our University to see the large bronze husky, our mascot, in the central campus courtyard.  There, in the alumni pavers surrounding the statue were our names and graduation date carved into a stone paver.  What a fun surprise and now we're officially set in stone for posterity!  It has become a lovely campus, with all the newer buildings, dorms and the addition of beautiful summer gardens.  The Portage Canal is the northern boundary of the campus, and during the spring and fall it is still possible to watch the giant ore boats glide past on their way to the Soo Locks or the ports in Minnesota.  The sign in the Student Union still reads "Through these portals pass the best engineers in the world".  Our young cousins have picked up that torch and are pursuing their engineering degrees.  We'll be back in December for his graduation, to see another one of those best engineers begin his new life.

 

Namaste 

Holiday Road

Driving into the North Woods, mile after mile of forest

Now is a good time to cue up the music track from the Lampoon Vacation movie, I'm humming Holiday Road as we pack.  It seems to take an appalling amount of gear just to camp in the woods for a few days before we transition to a hotel.  Plus two types of clothing, one for water sports, wood smoke bonfires and general living outdoors activities.  More casual dressy for dining out with friends once we get to town, and not looking like we escaped from a Survivalist Camp.

In the theme of a picture being worth a thousand words, here are some views of our anticipated holiday.


The Spousal Unit and cousin setting the anchor for the raft.  The water is crisp and clear from a natural spring and it is rarely warm enough to enter with out gasps of pain or having baked oneself in the sauna (prounced sow-nah) prior to immersion.  With the only water being what we pump by hand directly from the lake, personal hygiene is done the old fashioned way without showers.  I must be quick with timing to enter before the cousins get the sauna temperature into the 160+ zone, we emerge looking like par boiled lobsters to plunge into the cold lake like ancient Romans in the fridgidarium.  But with lots more shrieking.

This will be our first trip to Camp without our lovely lady, the first time in 39 years actually that we will be there without a dog.  She loved the freedom to be off leash and spend the day hunting frogs along the shore or chasing chipmunks through our tent area.

We won't be far from the big Lake, our destination is off a river that stretches from Lake Michigamme up to Superior along the McCormack Track.  Loggers cruise the one lane twisting road and it is usually a game of chicken to get across the 5 bridge spans that are one vehicle wide.  Moose, deer and bear are often present, and we have ruined 2 cars on the last two of that list.

The cousins have a speedboat for the young'uns to wake board on, there are kayaks and a huge floating raft that has mesh to let the water in the cool our feet while we bask in the sun.

There will be fireworks, a bonfire, stories to catch up on and so much food to eat.

Enjoy your own 4th of July.  In the Land of the Free, and the Home of the Brave.  

Namaste.