Archive for January, 2013
Buckets and Buckets
Posted by lickhaven in Linda, Uncategorized on January 9, 2013
I’ve saved 3 buckets and one milk crate of things salvaged from the fire–mostly kiln posts. Yesterday and today I scrubbed them all off and they’re now drying on the kitchen counter. I was also able to save most of the kiln shelves. They’re out by the wood kiln, along with some silica, nepheline syenite and Hawthorne clay that may be still usable. Don’t know about that because all the bags broke, and it’s difficult to tell if they’re really OK to use. One white powder looks pretty much like another white powder, and how do you know if they’ve gotten mixed up?
It sort of looks like a city scape if you can ignore the spices, sauces and oils behind them. I think I’ll probably have to put everything through a firing to get all the soot off. That won’t be until next spring. In the meantime, I’ll be making little things in our old bathroom–actually, it isn’t the old bathroom yet–the new bathroom is not yet finished, so I still have some time to wait before I can play in the mud again.
In the meantime, I can write blogs and play on the computer where I am daily visited–usually several times a day–by our friendly, neighborhood red squirrel family. I only have a picture of the baby–who is now quite adult–because he’s the one who comes and checks me out. I know he can see me, just as I can see him, and he is immensely curious about what I am and what I am about. I got a picture of him the other day.
Organization, man, organization!
Posted by lickhaven in Linda, Uncategorized on January 3, 2013
I’ve spent the last three or four days going through all my financial files and my memory files, trying to get a handle on everything that was destroyed in the pot shop. It’s pretty clear to me that I’ll never remember everything, but at least I’m trying.
As you can see, I’ve got piles of paper everywhere and yes, I keep losing the piece of paper I need now, and then finding it in the pile it doesn’t belong in. Thank god I’ve got a wonderful, calming view out of my window. I can look out and take a breath. It helps me keep things in proportion. What I’m going through now is really only one little piece of my life. Anyway, here’s the view.
Last night I asked Derek to go over the list to get his comments and whatever he might remember that I can’t, so I’m thinking I’m really almost done with this part, anyway.