I spent yesterday afternoon on the wheel without a break. When I tried to stand up I couldn't. I Made more glaze test tiles out of my favourite darker clay, and a few plant pots with matching saucers and a knobby little bear mug with big ears and I threw and practiced pulling up cylinders and trying to find my speeds and my pressures and my patience and I worked hard and then ran out of time and here I am today finishing up with some hand built, hand-cut stuff to round out a decent load for the kiln. I like to pack it full and then I have a lot of glazing to do. Everyone hates glazing but it's my favourite part.
Caleb is being good. I'm sure everyone's wondering. No threats, as of late. No puppy dog eyes or directed triggering. No deals, offers or efforts. I'm enjoying the summer of just sleeping in as late as possible and sometimes not at all. Ben is being sweet. Lochlan is being sweet and present. We are watching the gardens, some thriving in the cool rainy spring-like weather and some struggling like the veggies without heat or prolonged sun.
I don't mind a cold summer, truth be told.
I like today though. Our Mondays are quiet. I did the floors, I did some clay, I fixed some stuff up, I talked Ruth's ear off after she called with some career questions and I contemplated owls and trees. I want to paint some later this week. I miss my sketchbooks and the quiet of strokes on a page. Of mixing colours to get just the right shade and of not requiring an outfit change and a complete studio scrubdown every time I want to make something.
I also have a blistering headache now. PJ can kiss it better and make dinner tonight and I'll take his tomorrow shift, maybe.