New

 

My concept of a new year is not "out with the old, in with the new", it's more "build on the valuable old to create anew".  Nothing is wasted, one hopes.  This photograph of new blooms on my white cyclamen is a case in point.  Year after year I've failed to take photos of white flowers which look anything like what one sees.  I have much experience of what doesn't work!  What I had never tried before was allowing the flash to operate if it liked and he presto! that was the answer.

Our bad experiences happened and I don't believe in denying them.  That way they retain their proper place - bad experiences we have to learn to live with.  Burying things really doesn't help us learn anything.  Some experiences take a lot longer than others to learn to live with.

There is much for me to look forward to in 2022 and a great deal of it involves the new.  I have a sense of not just moving forward, but running forward (if only I were capable of running 😉). I hope to move house and as the autumn went on it dawned on me that I am really downsizing quite a bit.  Initially this was rather daunting but having decided to make a start by aiming to fill my grey bin completely every fortnight it has turned into something of a relief and even a pleasure.  By getting rid of stuff I somehow condense what is left so that it generates so many new ideas.

I am no longer a potter.  I don't think I anticipated this, but for the past two years it's been obvious that this is what I want.  I have fired everything, kept most of the last two firings of pots for myself and am selling everything else as usual.  The kit will also be sold, although I will be keeping tools and lustres and a few decorating colours so I can do some handbuilding work if I want.  I look back on my decades of being a potter with great pleasure, it's just that suddenly it was no longer what I wanted to do.  As an artist, I find myself moving into other things - silver jewellery, photography, mixed media work and of course still textiles.  It's a huge step but somehow so very positive.

The last year there have been many changes in my life because of losing both my parents, my entire family unit, within six weeks at the end of 2020.  What I'm experiencing, as well as the loss and change from what was, is those sudden shards of light which are sparks of ideas of new things on the horizon.  They are exciting.  Some of them have become clearer and are now actual plans, others are still waiting to be unpacked.

The new house (still in Stroud, of course) is a plan: we have exchanged contracts and completion is due mid-March.  Then there will be months of development, planning permission, and finally building and rebuilding and alterations.  As time goes on, the plan takes a clearer shape.

Life is good.  There are bad things in it for sure - somewhat ropey health, illness and problems for some of those close to me, the general situation with the pandemic, to mention a few.  But life is good.

Only one question remains - my alter ego has been known as the Purple Potter for decades.  Should I change it for something else?

Documenting my life

It occurs to me that much of the stuff that I like to do on social media is documenting my life.  H recently told me that if she were on Facebook and was my FB friend, she would immediately unfriend me if I posted photographs of my meals.  Just as well she's never likely to be on Facebook, then!  I love all that stuff.

As with this blog, the frequency of all of my other social media posts varies hugely and it may be that this is a reflection of what's going on in my life.  Often my working life just continues much as before, with nothing new to say or show for it.  Often my meals are just my usual meals and, loving my food as I do, once the food is on the plate, all I want to do is eat it and I never give photography a thought.  Often there doesn't seem to be much going on in the garden or the weather isn't good for photography or I am just plain busy.

Then there's a little run of things which happen which I want, not just to share, but yes, to document.  It seems to be that sort of time at the moment, so here are three offerings in that vein.

Who's been standing on my bowl?

A minor hazard of putting freshly-thrown pots outside to dry, which actually happens very rarely.  I quite like it, though I suppose I wouldn't if it was a bigger bird because the pot would probably end up squished.  I was tempted to leave the footprints as they were but in the end smoothed them over.

 A little bit of La Vienne in Stroud

 To be fair, there are actually quite a few, but I chose this one specially from the 'beach' when I went for my last swim in the river at Lesigny this year.

...  and here it is (blending in nicely, towards the top right, in case you are having trouble spotting it!) in my water feature, as planned.

It's a bargain!

One of the dear friends whom I lost recently could be something of a shopaholic.  She could not resist a bargain, even if it was something she didn't really need and still couldn't really afford.  I remember one particular self-catering holiday when she bought far more food than we could all get through because she kept finding brilliant deals.  They were good holidays. 

A bargain can be a wondrous thing, though.  One advantage (and there were a few, as it turned out) of getting started on the garden very late this year because I wimped out at the chilly March, was that I didn't get round to growing my own plants for the tubs and had to buy what was left on the shelves in garden centres rather late.  It was an advantage because they were so cheap.  My best bargain was undoubtedly half a dozen fuchsia plants at 25p each.

Wood

Well, do you know, I've been sitting here for about ten minutes trying to work out what I want to say.  And then eventually I realised I don't really want to say much about anything except our firewood.  This may make for a dull post, I suppose.  But it's exciting to me!

First of all, here's the final woodstack by the gate.  See how the pedestrian gate is completely obliterated (not that we use it) and the big gate not able to go all the way open.

Then around the side of the house there was more wood, sawn up but not stored in the woodshed as it was collected during the time we were actually taking dry wood from the shed to burn.  More trunks stacked up against a pile of wood sat beside the blue shed.

The weather has of course been unseasonably warm for a while but M decided at the beginning of the week that it was time to saw wood while we were still being promised warmth and no rain.  He pointed out that he can plumb the greenhouse if it rains and I agreed that getting the wood sawn would be a more than justifiable interruption to the greenhouse.

He has a sawbench but for a large part of the job decided to use the old wooden table we've got parked outside the green shed for just such outdoor work purposes.

And so he set to work.  And was sensible!  Paced himself, came in for breaks without being nagged, drank plenty, had bath every evening.  

Things didn't go entirely smoothly.  At one point quite  a chunk of a wall of stacked logs fell down.  They were sliding for a while, M said, and he was trying to get other walls of logs against them before they fell.  He was all for leaving the lot where it landed and stacking on top but I managed to get him to stop doing that after a short while on the grounds that I would do the re-stacking.  I like stacking logs.  Once I'd got that far, I continued to do the rest of the stacking.  I should say that M was still responsible for most of the stacking.

Anyway.  No more woodstack by the gate.

And none against the wall of the house, though still some left stacked against the blue shed.  Nothing like as much as there was, however.

 

And of course you're dying to see where it all is now, aren't you?

Ta-da!

I'm disappointed with this photo because it really doesn't convey how impressive the woodshed is.  The wood is stacked up to the rafters apart from the bit you see on the left right next to the shed.  This is partly because it has to be further back there to allow for the shed door to open.  If you look at the post for June 16th 2010 you can see how much we had last year.  What you're looking at last year is the view from inside the woodshed pointing towards what you see here on the right.  This time, inside the woodshed consists of wood and just a metre square standing space.

 
Isn't firewood lovely?

And - if you look carefully at the picture of the side of the house sans firewood, you'll see a well-swept, tidy path.  M set about this task all on his own.  I kid you not!  J & J if reading may need to sit down to recover from the shock of their dad not only finishing a task completely but voluntarily wanting to tidy up at the end.  I know I do.

Life has its compensations .....

 

... and here is one.  These were on my desk as I walked in from the cold yesterday evening.  I think I liked them better in the milk bottle with the note than if they had been in a vase.

There are not many shepherds off the coast of northern France ...

... so I had no worries about this lovely red sky at about 5.30 UK time today.  We had already finished our breakfast and I hadn't got to sleep until about midnight so, as the modern saying goes, do the math.  And yet here I am fourteen hours later still capable of conscious thought.  Spending five months here last year has changed the place forever for me.  As soon as we found ourselves sitting with 'un demi' talking with P in the cafe, I felt as if I hadn't been away.  And this evening, as M was feeding Charlie, I thought, "should I water the vegetables now?"  Of course there are no vegetables here this year and as we are only able to stay for four weeks there aren't going to be.  But even the unpacked boxes, furniture still covered with polythene, to say nothing of the nine and a half months intervening, didn't stop the feeling of continuance.

We have been so fortunate today.  Fingers crossed and perhaps tomorrow I will be eating my words,  but we have hot and cold water and no leaks.  In case this doesn't sound anything very much, I should tell you that M reported that this is the first time this has happened on his return after the winter in the fourteen years he has owned the house.  It's fair enough: last September he stuffed old cushions and duvets and loft insulation in bin bags round every pipe he could find, even those which are empty over the winter.  We haven't checked the cottage yet, but in the house we use all is well. Not only do we have hot and cold running water and electricity, we have phone and, obviously, internet.  No delays this year.  I can connect with the world and report that tonight I feel lucky.

Look at the wings on those pigs!

Pigs might fly, Jane might get her vegetable plot all tidy and planted at once. Here's the proof.

I haven't been able to grow plants myself this year, not having a greenhouse at the moment, but was able to buy my vegetable plants from the excellent Pound Farm farm shop and plant centre.  They have top quality vegetable plants in good varieties at very reasonable prices and thoroughly recommended to anyone in the vicinity.  Naturally, the locals appreciate the plants as well and have already started munching on them ....

....though Jane's Patent Slug And Snail Detterrants are doing something to keep them at bay. Copper pipe surrounding tasty plants, eggshells on surface around and coffee grounds on surface immediately around the plants. Out of view, a beer-laden trap. It doesn't stop everything but it certainly slows the attacks and I hope to have the majority of plants surviving.  It's not perfect, but the demolished plant on the right hadn't had the coffee grounds and I do think they protect against the very small earth-dwelling slugs to some extent.  Last year in France the slugs were getting the first leaves of the newly-sprouted runner beans until I sprinkled on the coffee grounds and after that all grew happily un-munched.

Now I have the vegetable garden planted up there is nothing stopping us going to France.  I am, of course, still behind with my work but it will be easier to catch up with it in one go nearer to the exhibition.

Logs on blogs

This post does what it says on the tin.  By popular request (you know who you are!)

For those requiring a little more information - at least one winter's supply of logs provided by M, bringing a fallen branch or two home each evening from his walk with Charlie, now finishing their drying-out under cover during the summer.

What I have been mostly doing lately ....

... is getting involved at Gloucestershire Arts and Crafts Centre.  Here I am in front of my pots in the shop.   I have cards elsewhere and a few smaller wallhangings displayed above the pots.

It's all very exciting getting the centre going and it's been a fair bit of work for many of us.  As I am going to be responsible for much of the admin, there's been lots to do getting systems organised.  Once things are up and running it will all take less time but I have been busy, to say the least.

Today I should have been able to make pots.  I'm about a month behind with making my own work and not altogether sure what I will do about it.  But in the meantime we have both been struck by a Dreaded Lurgy.  Actually, it's only a bad cold, but I am certainly under the weather and not up to anything very physical.   It's most frustrating.  It's not only a matter of getting behind but also of 'feeding the inner self'.  I need to be making some of the time for my own general well-being.  Going into the pottery to work feels very restorative these days and I miss it when I can't get in there.

Additionally, I have been living like a hermit lately.  The lurgy struck just when I had planned to become a little more sociable and invite people round and go out with others.  I'm certain none of them want my germs so once again I'm seeing nobody much, which I'm not happy about. 

Hang on in there, folks.  I haven't forgotten you all.  I'm sure that one day I'll be back to my usual sociable self.  In the mean time, I hope this blog is better than nothing and will try to write more frequently.

Going solo

Things were getting rather stale round here.  The last couple of months had brought the lowest sales figures for a long time, partly because I had to turn down at least one opportunity because I was still not back making pots and other outlets had fizzled out for one reason or another.  Eventually I fired the kiln the other day, only to have one of the most disappointing firings for a long time.  This kiln has been uneven since I had it and there are things I can and do do to counteract that but sometimes it still surprises and therefore greatly disappoints me with how uneven it can be.  There are still more things to try, which always makes me hopeful.  But a downturn in selling opportunities and sales income together with a downer of a kiln firing didn't make me happy!

There have been things in melting pots, though.  One of the melting pots - probably the biggest! - is my own mind.  I may have looked idle in the pottery department but I have not been idle in the business planning department.  At first sight, the recently offered opportunity to have a gallery all to myself in April looked impractical, especially as there are other things in the pipeline and bearing in mind that I have three missed months of production to catch up on.  Yesterday, though, I made a decision.  Commit myself to working on sales and being away from my workshop for April in order to get the sales figures lifted.  There are opportunities coming up in the autumn, so it's now that I particularly need to give things a lift. 

So.  My first solo exhibition will be from 13th - 17th April at the Cotswold Craftsmen Gallery, Nailsworth!

I'm extremely excited about this.

Large and imperfectly formed!

Actually, it's not badly made. I did all the cutting and shaping and M did all the joining and putting up. I was still getting back into the hang of using my jigsaw so there are certainly uneven bits in some of the curves though you can't see those from this picture. And the point of making this towel rail was indeed that it is large. We found that you just can't buy large towel rails. What do people hang their bath towels on? Old ones, I suppose. Or maybe they all buy those radiator-types. But for our bathroom we just wanted a straightforward wooden towel rail, and here it is.

Small but perfectly formed.

Well, not me, obviously! But take a look at Chicken Pots. This new site is just for online sales of, well, chicken pots! The limit of five products on the free webs.com sites makes them just right for focusing on one design of pottery. I must say I'm particularly pleased with how the site has turned out.

I've only really got plenty of stock in this one design, but have ideas for more mini-sites in due course.

Don't blink or you'll miss it

 

 

The last time my ovens were this sparkling was when they were new. Oven cleaning is a domestic chore I've never managed to get into a routine, sadly. We had a scheme when this cooker was new that M would clean it every Monday, but somehow that was never convenient and it just got left! We did have one big blitz a year or so ago, but to be honest it still wasn't that good, especially on the upper and back sides. So when Alex Foster tweeted that he had had his oven cleaned and showed a photo on Twitpic, I got quite excited. More excited than I was about picking up the silk dupion to finish my new textiles pieces or the arrival of a new pair of shoes.

I think I should digress here. I rarely buy shoes. On the whole, I hate the things because I find them uncomfortable. I have been living in blissful unawareness that I am wearing shoes since I discovered Crocs but the Cayman is unsuitable for rainy or very cold weather and the styles designed to cope with these conditions just don't fit the bill for comfort in the same way. So I've been looking for a pair of shoes that can be work when it rains that have that same quality of not reminding me every thirty seconds that I am wearing shoes. It's been a difficult search. My feet seem an odd shape. So when I eventually tracked a pair down, although they were expensive, I decided to splash (oops, sorry!) out. I mean, I'll have them for years and years, and the difference between comfort and discomfort sometimes just has to be paid for. In case you're wondering what they're like, my new red shoes can be seen here. Well, at least until they go out of the catalogue, I guess.

So I was quite pleased with my new shoes. And really a bit excited about the silk dupion. But much, much more excited about the idea that I could pay someone to do a really thorough job of cleaning my oven. How sad is that!

I hope very much not to need their services again, but in case anyone in my area has the same problem, Cotswold Oven Valeting was who I used. They're not the cheapest, but they do work in my area. You may well be able to find someone a little cheaper if they are a member of The Association of Approved Oven Cleaners but sadly, the company that said it covered Gloucestershire didn't cover my bit of Gloucestershire. I'm so pleased that such an organisation exists, though.

I have a brand new magic oven cleaning cloth from Lakeland Limited and I hope this will help me keep my oven sparkly clean if only I can be disciplined enough to use it regularly. Time will tell.

Phew!

We seem to have expelled, or at least calmed, the gremlins for now, but I don't want to say it too loudly.

Photoshop CS4 works just fine on Windows 7, which is on the laptop, which is what I bought it for, so I suppose I shouldn't mind too much.  I do, though.  It's a very expensive product and it *should* have worked ok on Windows XP.  I spent at least two days in total working through various steps and talking to people on tech support and eventually found numerous threads on internet forums where people basically said that none of these workarounds or fixes actually work and this is Really Not Very Good, You Know, or words to that effect.  I agree.  But I have no more energy to pursue the problem since I do now have a solution in the form of a working copy on my Windows 7 laptop.

A very nice chap from the camera repair company phoned me to find out in more detail exactly what problem I was experiencing with the compact camera and discuss with me about the options for repair and that I should check whether my rechargeable batteries were still up to scratch before sending it back to them again should I need to do so.  He replaced the flash unit, though I think he was unconvinced that the problem lay there, but anyway the camera returned pronto and works just fine now.

I had, as usual, a bit of a runaround from Dell.  I don't really blame people who live thousands of miles away for not understanding what the weather is doing here right now but I did rather object to being told that the courier could not collect the laptop because of the difficult weather conditions and no, he certainly couldn't just come the next day but a trip would be rescheduled.  Apparently, someone had to drive to my house with a box and another someone had to drive to my house to collect the box once I had placed the laptop in it.  Naturally, none of this was true.  There were no adverse weather conditions, as I knew, and as usual the arrangement is that the courier brings the box, I place the laptop in it and then he takes it away.  On this occasion, though, I was Very Cross on the phone and Dell said they would send an engineer to replace the CD/DVD drive instead of collecting the machine.  CitiLink, who were the couriers involved on this occasion, phoned me the next day and apologised that the driver had simply run out of time and would be arriving that morning.  They were pleasantly understanding when I said they needn't bother any more.  Sod's law said the engineer was then genuinely stopped by snow a couple of days later!  Eventually another engineer arrived after the snow and duly replaced the drive.  He also spotted a nasty little program called RoxioBurn that Dell like to give away free and that may have been conflicting with Windows Media Player and causing further problems so we removed that at high speed.  CD/DVD drive now working perfectly.

Incidentally, the first time I asked Dell for tech support on the faulty drive, the guy wanted us to go through writing to DVD to find where it didn't work and said to start up this RoxioBurn.  I said I didn't use it and would prefer to use Windows Media Player as usual.  Amazingly, I got the reply, "Ma'am, we do not usually support Windows Media Player and I have never used the program, ma'am, so we should use RoxioBurn."  I pointed out that the thing should work with Windows Media Player and he conceded.  I found it astonishing, though, that someone trained in tech support should not ever have even used Windows Media Player.  For the connoisseur, I'm sure there are plenty of special programs which produce better results but for most Joe and Jane Bloggs, WMP is perfectly adequate.

What else?  Ah yes .....

Tradition

It's that time of year when the word 'tradition' gets taken off the shelf and paraded round by all and sundry. At other times there can be a downside to describing things as traditional because others see it as an argument against modernisation, progress and improvement. At Christmas, though, tradition is a buzzword. I grew up with a very narrow world view, in that it did not occur to me until my very late teens that there were different ways of looking at things. I thought traditional Christmasses were all exactly like ours. Only later in my adult life did I begin to appreciate the value of small-scale traditions such as develop within family or friendship groups, or even for the individual. I expect to be writing about my Christmas traditions off and on for the next couple of weeks.

Traditionally, as I mentioned a week or two back, I've always made my own Christmas cards and I've also always made presents. At different times in my life the made presents have become greater or smaller parts of what I've given, according to disposable income and disposable time. Unfortunately, a lack of either of these is usually accompanied by a lack of the other as the more I depend on my artwork for my income, the less time and money I've had! This year, though, having been unable to make pots, I've been able to enjoy making a proper job of making presents and things are progressing not just on time but ahead.

As most of the people I give made presents to also read this blog, I don't want to give too much away, but as these boxes of fudge are now traditional, they're not a secret. And think yourselves lucky that I couldn't think of anything to write under the groan-worthy title of 'Fudging the issue.'

Feeling seasonal

If you say you are feeling seasonal at this time of year, people automatically think you mean Christmassy, but that isn't what I mean, really. I do mean that I feel "in the season." I have felt increasingly comfortable with this over the years.

I am fortunate not to be one of those people who suffers from Seasonal Affective Disorder (but I have every sympathy with those who do.) I have always been able to appreciate the good things about winter. It's a time for sitting indoors and doing indoorsy things like sorting out the filing cabinet, catching up with the mending, indulging in films on tv in the afternoon and drawing the curtains against the world, lighting a fire and mulling some wine. I've nothing against the world, or the rest of you in it, but I do like to be shut away sometimes. At this time of year, if there's a day on the calendar with no going out and no visitors, I relish it. Even more than that, I luxuriate in it if it's one of the rare days I'm on my own in the house.

Digressing slightly, it seems to me that only children are not just more likely to enjoy their own company and for longer but also often have a real need for it. I was discussing this earlier today with another friend who is an only child and feels just as I do. My first husband was an only child and we had separate spaces in the house, joined by an intercom. It was perfectly acceptable to turn down a suggestion by the other to do something together; we both had a need to do this sometimes. M was not an only child, though he spent much of his childhood on his own, not getting on with his sister. He has the opposite need, though: he hates being on his own. So we muddle along and compromise and have worked out a life that feels good for both of us, but I still long for more time on my own sometimes. This is complicated by the fact that I am a real home-lover so would rather be on my own at home than go out on my own. Winter is particularly the season for this. However, as I say, we seem to have grown into a life that generally suits us both.

I've always made my own Christmas cards and some presents and December is usually the time for these activities. I always give edible presents in some form or other these days. Jams, pickles, fudge and roasted walnuts all go to various appreciative homes. Some of these are made in other seasons and in particular there's nothing like a jar of apricot jam for capturing the taste of a French summer. Some, like the fudge, are made nearer Christmas. I should be getting on with that soon.

I've been busy making some other presents in the last few days too. These can't be mentioned yet as it would spoil too many people's surprises!

What I haven't done yet is to make my Christmas cards. The photo above is what I used for my cards last year. Sometimes I use photos, sometimes I cut paper shapes, sometimes I paint one design and print off copies. I don't actually know what this year's cards are going to be and the time is getting near when I should start writing and posting them.

I may be rather quiet for a while .....

Open Day

For the past few years my jeweller friend Hazel has joined me for my open weekends. This year we weren't able to find a whole weekend when we were both free so decided to try a single Sunday. Sunday tends to be the more popular day anyway.

Following on from the tidy table, this photo shows how well it transforms into a display space for Hazel's work.

Computers, don't you just love them?

Well, yes, I do. For me, my computer has always felt like an extension of my head. Come to think of it, I may have a tendency to make physical objects an extension of myself. Houses, for instance. My cottage in Kings Stanley felt like a part of me and I can remember the astonishment among my friends when I said I was selling. It had to be done, though. I had just accepted a proposal of marriage and we weren't going to fit into the cottage that was already full of my stuff. I had to be almost dragged out of the house when it came to leaving. I vowed never to let a house become that way again, but after my first husband died, slowly this house did become an extension of me. It was a long five years of adjustment living with M before it really became "our" house properly with the living-room redecoration project in January this year.

Sorry - computers. Well, I think this extension feeling accounts for why I feel so stressed when things go wrong with my computer. I won't go into detail now about the trials and tribulations I have suffered with my laptop over the last 14 months but to bring the story near to a close, Dell say that they will collect the thing today and 5-7 working days later I will be in receipt of a full refund.

It's been clear from the beginning that it was a Friday computer. The trouble is that every time it was fixed, I started to really love it again and feel secure. Then pow! and I wished I'd never set eyes on it. Last week M took over some of the tech support conversation and at the end asked that a customer services manager should speak to him and one did duly phone him back a couple of days later. The guy was apologetic and agreed with our complaints of the time. I spoke to him then and mentioned that next time I would be seeking a full refund and he offered me one there and then because he could see how much trouble I had had and to try to give me a better impression of Dell. It worked. So far. Let's see if his promises are kept. So far so good, in that he has responded promptly to my emails.

So yesterday I set about removing myself from the laptop. Removing "My Documents" and therefore the photo that I have as wallpaper was a good start in de-personalising the thing and having also now removed all my software and any traces of me that I can think of, I do feel that I am not 'over there' on the table any more. I now live back in my desktop.

This is itself a slightly precarious existence in that the desktop's capacity is now much too small for my stuff. I await the arrival of a bigger hard drive which I hope will be installed next week. In the mean time some of my stuff is here but some is on an external drive, all wrapped up in a complete disc copy-type backup (I expect there's a proper name for this which I've forgotten) which occasionally throws a slight wobbly when I try to get files out. I'm trying to follow the principle that everything is in two places, so doing manual copying of any folders I worked on the previous day each morning.

Fingers crossed.

Blow, blow thou winter wind

We're ready for the cold weather now, at least as far as logs go. The new woodshed now contains logs rather than lengths of wood. These logs are from the wood that M brought back from dog walks in the spring and as such are really quite an impressive haul. It wouldn't last the whole winter if we had a fire every day but it hasn't been cold enough to have one at all yet so if we are careful the logs may last out.

My rib injury is healing slowly to the extent that I can now imagine returning to work properly in a couple of weeks' time. In preparation for that I have ordered my new wheel, which I have been waiting to order for a couple of years. When I tried making pots a couple of weeks ago, the horrible noise of the wheel was the one down-side to the experience at the time. I had got used to it but having the last seven months away from the noise has made it more noticeable now. I always listen to something while I'm working, either music or spoken word (radio or audio books) and have been really enjoying the clarity of listening through wireless headphones from the computer. I can't wear headphones while potting and the portable radio/CD player struggles to drown out the noise of the wheel, making listening almost impossible with some quiet things. The new wheel is called a Shimpo Whisper! I hope it does.

On the mend

We seem to be in a mending phase. M has repaired the big dining table, which has been becoming more and more wobbly over recent months. I had this table made about 8 years ago. It's wider than usual for its length so one can get plenty of dishes in the middle (and two people can sit at the ends if necessary) and has two ends which pull out to extend the length considerably. Fourteen people sat round it comfortably when we got married in April. The overall table top makes the whole thing very heavy and the leg joints have suffered over the years. The maker had repaired one leg for me a while ago so M reglued all the other joints and copied the repair. It feels solid and reliable again.

In the washing machine at the moment is my big white embroidered tablecloth being rewashed in an attempt to get the red wax stains out from, er, last Christmas. I'd used my usual methods and it hadn't come clean and there wasn't time to tackle it in the spring before we went away. I've now used boiling water and gentle bleach and it is in a hot wash. I don't think all the red is coming out, but I will be leaving it at that.

Why the picture? Well, it's not quite mending, but it comes close. The last piece of sitting room regeneration is done. I have made a new loose cover for my armchair. We pulled the old one off in several pieces! It had gone through in many places and recently you could feel fabric ripping every time you sat down, which was a little disconcerting. I did have the whole thing covered with a throw so it didn't look as bad as it sounds. It took a long time to find the right red fabric; it had to be fairly similar to our new red sofa, but the end result is very pleasing.

And finally, I seem to be on the mend. I know rib injuries take weeks rather than days to mend but I do at last (almost a week later) feel that things are improving. I've had acupuncture, been to A&E (it got worse, and M was worried, though I knew there was no need) and am using every remedy recommended! I put the getting worse partly down to brushing the dog, partly to grinding the bases of some pots but perhaps mainly because rib injuries apparently often do get worse before they get better. Now, though, if I pace myself and take paracetemol I can do quite a lot.

Unfortunately, making pots is going to be the last thing I am able to do so there is a little worry around because I really need to be producing right now, but I am being reasonably philosophical and getting on with things I can do.

Officially Autumn

So the clocks have gone back and it is officially autumn but it really doesn't feel like it yet. I think the autumns have been starting later recently as this is not the first time in recent years that I've suddenly realised that I should be well into producing pots for Christmas sales before I've had time to think of the summer as really being over. It is very mild at the moment, of course, and then I have been 'settling in'. Last week I got back into the pottery and found enough pots to glaze and fire that will just top up stocks of, for instance, blue spotty pots before I am able to produce any more.

While the kiln was firing on Sunday, M and I were tackling shrub/tree pruning. He's about to buy a new car and it seemed sensible to do trips to the tip with trailers full of messy garden rubbish with the old car. M was pruning the buddleia by the gate and I was in the front pruning the escallonia. It has got a bit out of hand and some of the branches are now rather thick. Too thick for the lopper, some of them. But one of those needed to go. Rather than interrupt M to come and saw the branch, I decided to have a go anyway.

I used a technique I've used before - rest one handle of the loppers against the upper body and use both hands to pull the other handle towards you. Don't try this at home, folks. The lopper handle holds your ribs nicely in place while your arm pulls the muscle away! Well, not quite away as in detached, but away in direction and pulls certainly. I've had pulled rib muscles before. This one isn't as bad but it is certainly stopping me doing most of the things I would otherwise have been doing at this point in the autumn.

No more garden clearing. More seriously, no making pots. I'm not sure how long this injury will take to mend but the muscle I've pulled is one I'm most aware of using in the pottery. I'm taking arnica and rubbing in arnica gel but other than that I suppose it's a matter of wait and see.

I've got other work and jobs to do, of course. Yesterday I designed the flyers for my Open Day which I can take with me on Sunday when I go over to work in By Local. I have been printing out photos from the last twelve months, some to go in albums but some to make cards with and I can be getting on with those. I shall be getting stressed, though, if I'm held up for much more than a week.