The last month had been very chaotic and we are just now getting used to the changes and adjustments to our lives. I can't thank everyone enough for the kind words and well wishes from all of my wonderful and loving friends in this difficult time.
For those who don't know, I have been diagnosed with brain cancer. I shall muddle on however, with radiation treatment and chemotherapy and have great plans for a tattoo once I'm able. It shall read "You are stronger than you think" although the Army Son thinks it should read "You are more stubborn than you think".
Keep up the good fight with inspirational art, scatter kindness wherever you go, and share with others the same love and generosity you've shown me.
In other news, fuck cancer.
The Everyday Potter
The Artist's Soul
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Friday, December 25, 2015
Merry Christmas
The Force is strong with us this year, this is how a dedicated geek group rock out Chrisstmas morning. As Lord Vader I am playing true to character - plus note how slimming black is. we went to see the new movie in three D, totally worth the experience.The spousal unit created a delicious oatmeal brûlée for our breakfast, with peppermint whipped cream coffee. we were quite spoiled
Puppies are actually cute little terrorists with needle sharp teeth applied to unsuspecting ankles and hands.we are learning to anticipate his potty needs, although we have taken to calling him mr. tinkles for his indoor indiscretions. he's learning quickly and we're using less paper towel each day.CLEAN UP ON AISLE THREE!!!
.He is so snugly and soft with his puppy fur and has already learned at the tender age of 9 weeks, sit, stay and down. He will be a formidable protector of his family in a few months, just giving fair warning to miscreants intent on mischief or mayhem. He WILL eat you! nom nom nom.
The Christmas Force awakens |
Puppies are actually cute little terrorists with needle sharp teeth applied to unsuspecting ankles and hands.we are learning to anticipate his potty needs, although we have taken to calling him mr. tinkles for his indoor indiscretions. he's learning quickly and we're using less paper towel each day.CLEAN UP ON AISLE THREE!!!
.He is so snugly and soft with his puppy fur and has already learned at the tender age of 9 weeks, sit, stay and down. He will be a formidable protector of his family in a few months, just giving fair warning to miscreants intent on mischief or mayhem. He WILL eat you! nom nom nom.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
Poised on the Threshold
The new sign I've put over our lintel, to forewarn the innocent. |
Since I've been whining about our remodel there probably is not a person in the Midwest who has not heard my lamentations. If you look for the definition of gullible you will find my picture in the image area. How could I believe the timeline and promises of the remodelers? It isn't that they are deliberate liars but they do present a timeline that most adults would understand is unrealistic. I mean honestly, nothing but nothing goes off without some complication. And we've had a number of complications.
- They measured for the cabinets incorrectly, weeks to make the proper sizes
- they measured the shower area incorrectly, same timeline as above, plus shipping
- the plumber drilled into a water line and caused a wee flood
- same plumber set a wall on fire using his torch to solder a joint
- the noise noise noise NOISE has driven me off my rocker, and into a wine bottle. I needed corks for a project and will have no problem whatsoever meeting my quota. Creepy factor was receiving spam mail advertising family interventions for an alcoholic. I would like to go to a retreat center, minus the meetings and lack of wine, that would be disappointing.
- I cannot keep pace with the sheetrock dust, and twice daily vacuuming and washing the covering cloths on the bedroom furniture is not as helpful as I'd hoped. The Army son complained his entire year in Iraq that sandstorms deposited grit in every body crevice, now I understand his gripes.
Our Thanksgiving guests came bearing gifts, Alaskan Amber for tsu, and truffles for moi! I went to open the chocolates to a horrifying discovery - they were half gone!!!
The ensueing exchange veered into dangerous territory.
Me- WHY did you eat MY chocolates??? This was said tersely, with narrowed eyes and flared nostrils - steam may have also been wafting from my ears!
Him - Those are our chocolates!!
Me - The HELL they are!! The beer was yours, the truffles are mine you FOOL. Don't eat any more! I hissed in my most angry persona. Or I'll pour your beer down the sink! People have separated and committed physical harm over less! He'd best be watching his p's and q's for a bit. Never. ever. get between me and MY chocolates. The people who had Y chromosomes in my house seem to have their better judgment impaired when it comes to cocoa products. Back when my son was young he had a nose like a ferret to suss out candy and the only way to sneak a piece without sharing with him was to take it into the bathroom and lock the door. He'd stand outside pleading, "Mom - what are you doing in there, and rattle the door, "Can i come in"? NO I'd yell, I'll be out in a minute, I'm just going potty. "NO you're not, are you eating chocolates? He had a nose better tuned to chocolates than a drug sniffing dog to his training.
I have no new pottery work to share,
an oldie but a favorite |
In my inadvertent quest to destroy the good samaritan impulse in the males of the world, there is at least one guy who will huddle safely in his car in the future. The Art Center has an appalling lack of nighttime lighting in their parking lot and I did a spectacular comic splat walking to my car while carrying a huge bin and a bag of clay. This poor man waiting for his kid to finish a class exited his car to come to my aide but I was so rattled I hit the car alarm on my key fob ( because he might have been a clay thief). He stammered that he was just trying to help as he backed slowly to his car. I called after him that I had another trip to carry my tools to the car and to please just ignore me in future unless I waved for help. I could hear the click of his door lock as I shuffled back to the building. My heating pad has been my constant companion these past few days, although my back doesn't hurt as much as the loss of my dignity. I might sign up for a class that teaches older adults how to fall safely, as a volunteer crash test dummy.
Well Bless her Heart! I heard the universe whisper this to me before falling asleep last night.
Tuesday, November 24, 2015
A Study of Impatience
For those of my Tribe, the old practice of asking forgiveness involved sitting in a darkened confessional and beginning with the words, "bless me Father, for I have sinned" - well it's been a long time since I participated in that ritual which caused no small amount of fear and anxiety. Perhaps I, like many kids from that era fully expected the priest to jump to his feet while shrieking for all in church to hear, " You did WHAT???"Your penance is a million Our Father's and 500 Hail Mary's.
In the spirit of the upcoming giving thanks together while sitting at table with those we may not be in harmony with, I think it's time for me to begin my pre meal meditation on being calm, being welcoming and having quick conversational changes mentally prepared in advance. While we won't be sharing with family this year, our guests are on the opposite side of several spectrums and have never shied from and sharing whatever thought crosses their mind, no matter how divisive the topic.
My frayed nerves from our bathroom renovation are getting a fresh grating every day. Yes I was gullible enough to believe their promises that the work would be completed before Christmas, now we have them admitting their cabinet measurements were incorrect and have to be remade, at a 4-6 week delay. I feel like the Grinch lamenting the noise of the Who's singing and playing instruments, except my house resounds with the banging an whoosh of saws, hammers and air compressors. So much force was expended to remove the old fixtures that sections of the kitchen ceiling collapsed.
A little drywall with your turkey? The inevitable dust has permeated every nook and flat surface in the house, I feel like we are living in a novel with Miss Havisham with all our belongings covered in white dust and white sheets. I know when the room is completed it will be the bathroom of my dreams, right now though it's just a nightmare of destruction. Strange men arrive all day, some greet me, some don't, the main carpenter just grunts with occasional sighs like a depressed teenage girl, interspersed with explosive swearing and dropped tools. I am fearful of what my bedroom wood floors will look like when Todd leaves. Bless his heart. Out of his hearing I have taken to calling him Shiva the Destroyer.
Isn't this why so many movies depend on comic despair of characters undergoing "home improvements"? I have told The Spousal Unit there will never be a next time, to which he gave a series of fist bumps, relieved not to have to pay for another project. This undertaking bothers him not since he escapes to his office before Todd's not early morning arrivals. I on the other hand must be on hand to answer a hundred daily questions. My concentration has left me, and I fear I will never throw another pot on the wheel (successfully), today i threw my clay into a bag and then into a corner in a fit of picque since my skills have deserted me completely. Oh Woe I whine, oh woe! To think I brought this upon myself - moving to a new home would have been easier. Maybe...
However, the morning sunrise offered a moment of peace and beauty as it rose over the tree canopy, and a lone eagle called for the mother he should have followed south for the season. Teenagers of all species are so stubborn, it's a bit of a wonder any survive.
I shall be giving Thanks this Thursday, that we have the ability to have a modern handicapped accessible bathroom built for my needs. And for friends to share a meal together, even though from the "other side of the aisle". May your day be full as well, of good foods and good friends. And good thoughts.
Happy Thanksgiving
In the spirit of the upcoming giving thanks together while sitting at table with those we may not be in harmony with, I think it's time for me to begin my pre meal meditation on being calm, being welcoming and having quick conversational changes mentally prepared in advance. While we won't be sharing with family this year, our guests are on the opposite side of several spectrums and have never shied from and sharing whatever thought crosses their mind, no matter how divisive the topic.
My frayed nerves from our bathroom renovation are getting a fresh grating every day. Yes I was gullible enough to believe their promises that the work would be completed before Christmas, now we have them admitting their cabinet measurements were incorrect and have to be remade, at a 4-6 week delay. I feel like the Grinch lamenting the noise of the Who's singing and playing instruments, except my house resounds with the banging an whoosh of saws, hammers and air compressors. So much force was expended to remove the old fixtures that sections of the kitchen ceiling collapsed.
A little drywall with your turkey? The inevitable dust has permeated every nook and flat surface in the house, I feel like we are living in a novel with Miss Havisham with all our belongings covered in white dust and white sheets. I know when the room is completed it will be the bathroom of my dreams, right now though it's just a nightmare of destruction. Strange men arrive all day, some greet me, some don't, the main carpenter just grunts with occasional sighs like a depressed teenage girl, interspersed with explosive swearing and dropped tools. I am fearful of what my bedroom wood floors will look like when Todd leaves. Bless his heart. Out of his hearing I have taken to calling him Shiva the Destroyer.
After Todd's sawzall cut the tub into sections |
It's a wonderment how noisy de-construction is. |
The ugly remains of the leaking shower floor |
This is not a homeowner approved debris exit method, notice how close to the birdbath and ceramic totem the mess landed! |
However, the morning sunrise offered a moment of peace and beauty as it rose over the tree canopy, and a lone eagle called for the mother he should have followed south for the season. Teenagers of all species are so stubborn, it's a bit of a wonder any survive.
I shall be giving Thanks this Thursday, that we have the ability to have a modern handicapped accessible bathroom built for my needs. And for friends to share a meal together, even though from the "other side of the aisle". May your day be full as well, of good foods and good friends. And good thoughts.
Happy Thanksgiving
Wednesday, November 18, 2015
Fair Weather Potter
Now is the Season of my discontent, as the temperatures plummet to winter and the air is raw with cold rain transitioning to snow. Our class will be unloading the outdoor soda kiln tomorrow when the high of the day is low 30s. We've been oddly graced with one lovely November day after another, enough to lull me into believing it would go on indefinitely. What is my delusion- this IS Minnesota after all!
Oh well, I will pull up my Big Girl Pants and my parka and boots, gloves and hat but I'll still long for the beautiful day we had last weekend for loading. I didn't have many pieces in this kiln firing, a funky folded basket style vase and few oval bowls with texture from crocheted doilies my grandmother and great aunts made decades ago. They'd probably have a conniption to see how I am purposing their work, but I am immortalizing thread into ceramics. None of the other cousins wanted all those crocheted treasures when the aunts' households were being dispersed and I like the idea or reusing their handiwork in eating vessels. Pictures will follow in the next blog. If they turned out well - I'm a harsh critic of my own work.
My readers have kept up the drumbeat for more pet photos, and I have to say that little Odin is far from little, at just 4 weeks he is a puppy of Substance. Just look at his puppy chubbiness in the photo the breeder shared. I cropped their young son, since I don't feel it's appropriate for me to share his face. But look at that happy grin on his face while he snuggles little Odin. I predict Odin's paws will rarely touch floor during the Holidays, that one or the other of us will be lugging that fuzzy sweetheart around.
Oh well, I will pull up my Big Girl Pants and my parka and boots, gloves and hat but I'll still long for the beautiful day we had last weekend for loading. I didn't have many pieces in this kiln firing, a funky folded basket style vase and few oval bowls with texture from crocheted doilies my grandmother and great aunts made decades ago. They'd probably have a conniption to see how I am purposing their work, but I am immortalizing thread into ceramics. None of the other cousins wanted all those crocheted treasures when the aunts' households were being dispersed and I like the idea or reusing their handiwork in eating vessels. Pictures will follow in the next blog. If they turned out well - I'm a harsh critic of my own work.
My readers have kept up the drumbeat for more pet photos, and I have to say that little Odin is far from little, at just 4 weeks he is a puppy of Substance. Just look at his puppy chubbiness in the photo the breeder shared. I cropped their young son, since I don't feel it's appropriate for me to share his face. But look at that happy grin on his face while he snuggles little Odin. I predict Odin's paws will rarely touch floor during the Holidays, that one or the other of us will be lugging that fuzzy sweetheart around.
I am concerned for the elderly and tiny Rocky, he seems already dwarfed by Odin. He has degenerative joints and struggles with pain ( I sure relate to that !) Although the two cats rule the roost and will be sure to keep a rambunctious upstart puppy in his place until he learns the Order of The Day.
Stay calm bro, it's just the catnip, the puppy isn't here yet.
For the 25 readers from Russia, do you like cat-puppy photos too?
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Thursday, November 12, 2015
Silent Film Time
The not so little kitteh received a new comfy bed from his caretakers. He is the most pampered of felines and showed his appreciation with his kneading the new cushion. If you listen most carefully, you can hear the sound his little cat feet make. Not much news on the home front, other than getting organized and inventory packed for a small church craft sale this weekend. It isn't high art, mostly grandmotherly types who crochet hand towels to hang on the oven door and baby afghans, caps and mittens. All lovingly made by good church ladies - and then there's me! How did I sneak in? I'll set up my handmade soaps and balms, foot soaks and my small ceramics that are priced very low so children can buy a gift for their moms, or aunts or grannies or teacher. I can remember those days, falling in love with something and not having enough in my tiny purse to buy an object. I have wee little ring trays and soap dishes and ceramic heart ornaments.
No snow expected and a mild day is predicted! Yay for easy schlepping my display and heavy boxes in and out of the school gym. It isn't much fun to push a laden dolly through snow and slush, and at this time of year, every pleasant day is truly a gift.
I've worn out the little towels I purchased last year, and hope the same sweet elderly lady will return with her crocheted towels this weekend. The Boy and Girl Scouts serve a lunch to purchase, and there's a display of donated treats to buy that are delicious and deadly to the waistline available as well. It's fun and enjoyable to be in a community where small church events are still very much a part of the norm, and casually run without snobby art critics that demand 10 formatted jpegs of your work to be judged by committee who don't return your entry fee if you're found wanting.
Saturday, November 7, 2015
#1 or #2
In six more weeks, little Odin will be formally adopted by our son. He has second choice of the two males in the litter, meaning he gets whomever the first buyer doesn't want. How can anyone possibly choose between these little cutie pies? I'd be forced to take both! The breeders have a puppy cam for the future parents (and grands) to keep an eye on their babies, I can say it is a huge time warp!
We also have a big new salad bowl for winter dining. The oil bottles were a mixd bag of results, the soda blasted one so severely the funnel is flaking off the pot, so into the trash with that one. The two smaller are good with a nice wet gloss to the sides. Atmospheric firing is quite fickle, even the best technique and glazing can be changed by the firing, was it too hot, too much reduction, it was a windy day and drew a lot of air from the kiln. The kiln god gives, and the kiln god takes away, blessed be the kiln. (lol for my stricter faith friends) I wonder, if everyone used handmade pottery for our everyday eating, would we be so cavalier about purchasing habits? Doesn't a slow food movement just beg for handmade vessels. What nutrition value is there in fast food, packed into non earth friendly containers? From earth to table, count how many times a handmade vessel is touched. Processed from clay dug form the earth, wedged into balls, thrown on the wheel (or hand built), dried to leather hard and trimmed, firing to bisque stage, glazed, fired again to 2400 degrees. Lovingly packed, taken to an art sale, displayed and purchased (we all hope). I made a pecan and roasted golden beet salad with white jalapeño balsamic vinaigrette last week, and can't wait to make it again and serve it in this bowl. We should eat with our eyes and soul as much as we do with our hands and mouth.
Being weighed- at full grown he'll be near 100 pounds. |
Mom!! Come and get me out, this isn't very comfy! |
In pottery news, our class unloaded the soda kiln yesterday - such a cold and labor intensive task. I initially didn't wear gloves so I could have a better feel of gripping pots and shelves, however the soda deposits the occasional sharp shard of glass and now my left hand has two deep cuts. Lesson learned! It will be a test of true Northern grit to load and unload in the depth of winter, it takes only 30 minutes for us to eagerly grab our treasures out from the kiln, but the shelves then have to be ground free of soda deposits which are like glass bubbles, then new kiln wash painted on and stacked in the shed. All the posts that hold up the shelves are redipped in kiln wash and packed away, the door of the kiln is rewashed, the arch and floor need grinding then sweeping and vacuuming, then kiln wash applied. And this is all done outdoors in the crisp and bracing Minnesota air. I shall be wearing my warmest boots and parka for the winter firings. And gloves, most definitely gloves.
Front stack of 3 |
Interiors are more protected so the glaze stayed truer to color, this big gal is 11 inches in diameter, large for me to throw, it was closer to 14" wet, it shrinks that much in firing. |
Same glaze as bowl, heavier soda deposit so the glaze went whiter |
Stay warm friends, it was a crisp 36 here on the edge of the prairie this morning.
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