||[Aug. 31st, 2016|06:49 am]
Saturday was a play in three parts, but i don't think that much of the playwright as there isn't much of a theme to tie the parts together.
Act 1: Grief.
I'd gotten the shelf and shelf lighting set up the night before? Early that morning? We placed the urns and other little relics in a place of honor and sat for a while in waiting worship.
Act 2: Friends
We went out to lunch with L&J at a nice Italian place that was echoingly empty. I really don't understand - perhaps it's packed by dinner and workday lunchtime folks? These two are Christine's friends from back in her orchestra days, and so there was much relating of Christine's attendance upon teen auditions the week before. We then headed out of town a little bit to a potter's kiln opening. For annie_r, i'll note the details.
First it was dreadfully, miserably hot. When we arrived the sun was pouring down and we may have missed the display of bowls as we made for the relief of the barn. The "outer" barn is lined with the apprentice's work, which is fine work itself, and I think we all found our purchases there. Inside was Hewett's work. I am NOT a pottery expert, but i think most of Hewett's glazes nod to traditional NC salt and ash glazes. Ah "They are using these new glazes, as well as their traditional salt and ash glazes for this current load for Firing 95 of the ‘old’ salt kiln." Whatever "these new glazes" were, they were not dramatically different fom what is familiar to my eyes as traditional NC glazes (Ah, here - https://hewittpottery.com/galleries/preview-gallery-august-2016/ )
The embellishments included pressed indentations and primitivesque free hand whimsical line drawings. There was just a touch of cobalt in places to accent, and there was a pale pale green grey glaze. The forms were masterful. There was nothing i loved so much that i wanted to overcome the price barrier.
The pitcher and cup i picked out was in a very dark brown glaze - i suspect it's from an older firing and not this seasons work. It's a birthday gift for my mother.
Fortunately, heavy storm clouds had gathered in time for us to be shaded while standing in the purchase line. With the increasing volume of rolls of thunder, i did look with some concern at the iPads and other tech being used to manage purchases. We ducked into the working barn for lemonade and found a heavily gullied clay floor, polished by years of traffic. As i picked my way carefully to the refreshment, i figured the insurance lawyers had never seen the place.
As we stepped outside, gusty winds picked up, and i figured we had time enough to get to the cars before it dumped. We did, and we didn't see rain at all on the drive home, although the road we live on was slightly damp.
Act 3: Family
While at the potter's, my dad called to make check whether we had been invited over. My mother had forgotten whether she had. I find that a new behavior, in part because growing up mom was always certain she'd told us things but hadn't (exactly). It adds more weight to my concern for her mental health, and heightens my awareness of the opportunities to spend time with her.
We had a hour or so to rest before heading off on some errands before heading over to my parents for dinner with them and my sister's family. Mom had created a feast. Stories were re-told, dead birds were declined at the dinner table, and a generally pleasant time was had.
The heavens finally opened up and rain poured down, dropping the temperature dramatically.
We left early enough to get home and manage a few chores before finally retiring.