lately

(You may have noticed we've been a little absent here. Because, well, toddlers + home renovation + running a business. No matter. We have missed you, and where better to start than the present? :) )  

Lately, we have been . . .

Making . . . yes, pottery! It might sound obvious, and I'm sure most people think we do this every day of the year (that would be so nice, eventually, we hope!) but pottery making has been the major thing missing from our working lives because we are also . . .

Renovating. We spent the bulk of the winter months purging and packing the entire contents of our 1850's farmhouse in preparation for completely gutting the upstairs. It's a huge project, brought on by the need for a little thing called insulation, and we find ourselves banging nails, running wires, and coordinating all the contractors and pieces and decisions at the same time as we try to prepare 800 pots for a firing. I assure you, this was most definitely not the plan. The renovation was supposed to happen in our "off season."

But there you have it, and so it goes . . . fortunately, we are comfortably camping out in the 600 square feet above our studio space, so we're not feeling too rushed to get the project done on a deadline (right now, anyway, check back with me at the end of the summer ;) ). For now, not feeling too rushed plus not actually living in the mess, helps tremendously.

Taking a deep breath. Apparently winter ended last week, and now it's summer. Popping leaves, birds, green growing grass, daffodils, warm sun, mixing glazes outdoors. We'll take it.

Prepping. For our big firing of the year at the very end of June/beginning of July. We are so grateful for the energetic crew of potters and volunteers who help us with the four days of the firing itself, and all the tasks that go into being ready.

We had a really fun and productive work day a couple of weeks ago, where we stacked the holes in the kiln shed full of freshly cut slab wood, and started in on grinding and cleaning the kiln shelves. We ate good food and laughed a lot. It was the BEST of reminders of why we became wood-fired potters in the first place. We can't do it all ourselves. Exactly.

(Thank you Matt, Harrison, Jill, Lexi, Patty, and David!)

Lately, we are also . . .

Testing. For Christmas, Nathan and I bought ourselves a new electric kiln. (Practical and romantic! ;) ) For various reasons since we met (as potters in separate states) it's been seven years of driving various fragile pieces to fire in other peoples kilns. (We can't thank you enough Tiffany, Stephanie, and Joan!) However, we decided we'd like to move on, and that we were ready to have everything we needed right here.

Although most of our pottery is single-fired in it's raw state in the wood kiln, the small electric kiln will allow us to bisque fire a few pieces for the wood kiln that are better glazed when not leather hard, which is how we typically slip/glaze our work.

Additionally, and most excitingly (that's a word?), we'll use the kiln the fire small batches of finished work - remember the silky white glaze with designs?! It's actually quite nice, if I do say so myself, and the good news is that the preliminary results were really good. We'll be able to finish small batches of work in between our every six-months-to-a-year wood-firings. Hooray.

Enjoying. Playing in the sand in the driveway, digging in the garden, splashing in water and moving rocks and feeding chickens and . . . oh we're having so much fun with our little one. She's 1.5 years (wait, what?!) and so talkative, funny, happy, strong-minded, and loving.

We are tired (ahem) at the end of every day, and yet sooo ready to scoop her up again come morning.

Readying. For VT Open Studio, this coming Memorial Day Weekend. Our studio - and over 200 others around the state will be open Saturday May 23rd and Sunday May 24th from 10am to 5pm. We love this event. (Can we top last year?!)

Join us for the Tour in our area, there's lots to see! downloadable and printed map request here

You guys, we hope it won't be so long before we check back in. Stay with us. :)

Fondly,

Becca (and Nathan)

our first fall firing

It was honestly a bit of a scramble to decide in late August that we should try to turn over a firing in a mere eight weeks. I am happy (and, yes, a bit tired) to report that we totally. did. it.

This was by far the smallest window of time we'd given ourselves to fill all 350+ cubic feet of our large kiln. We plugged away through the month of September, and Nathan threw lots of big bowls and crocks, which helped a lot. We were also super lucky to have the contributions - in pottery as well as time!! - of several other local potters, who agree to trade labor for kiln space, an arrangement everyone seems to enjoy. The wood had been prepped well in advance, and was sheltered under our very large kiln shed, a thing of beauty for which we will no doubt be eternally grateful.

We gave ourselves a much bigger window to load the kiln - nearly two weeks - which was a nice change of pace from what has historically been a last-minute all-hours push. As they say, kids change everything, and we decided it would be a lot more sane to work the loading into our normal daily routine. And yet somehow (why, why, why???) we were still bricking up the doors late into the night before we were scheduled to begin . . . sigh.

This firing was characterized by a nearly constant rain, but thankfully, we stayed warm and dry throughout. The fourth and final day of the firing was smooth, and we pulled many very lovely clay rings from the kiln, promising the hope of many beautiful pots within.

We were not disappointed. I'm sure at some point, we'll have to stop saying "this was our best firing yet," but IT WAS. It's tough to let the kiln cool for a full week for a peek at what lies within, but it was- and always is- worth the wait.

in the mornings

Recently, I've fallen in love with early mornings again.

When I was living in New Hampshire, and firing twice a year at my friend Jody's wood kiln in Maine, my preferred shift started at 4 am. It meant an early bedtime, and a groggy start, but I was so fond of tending that fire while the rest of the world slept. The morning light would slowly brighten, the birds would start to chirp, and I'd feel so productive so early in the day. (Admittedly, this last bit is a big part of why I love mornings!)

In the past four months, as we've been adjusting to parenthood, we've been trying to find ways to continue making pottery - and get sleep, and have quality family time.

And so we've both taken on "parents" hours, as we like to call them, with me up before dawn and Nathan in the studio after baby's (and mama's, ahem) bedtime. Nothing too extreme - sunrise isn't all that early in the winter - and baby's bedtime isn't all that late!) but enough to give us some quiet time by ourselves to collect our thoughts and prepare for, or close out, the day.

Also new for me is having regular studio time most days.

It sounds odd to say that - wouldn't a potter naturally have this?! - but our last five years were largely dedicated to building our kiln and studio. Pottery, in many ways, became something we squeezed in between the flow of more pressing projects. Now, thankfully, our pace with all that building has largely come to a halt, and studio time is once again the priority. (There's a BIG kiln to fill before spring!)

And I must say that there is nothing like regular studio time to enhance a feeling of flow and creativity. I've also chosen to focus on making one thing - mugs - for several weeks. It's been surprisingly pleasant to continue with one train of thought, so to speak, and watch my rhythms with throwing and handles get smoother and more streamlined.

{A bit of springtime while the snow falls - Nathan brought in a broken crab apple branch - and we had pink blossoms in an otherwise black and white landscape.}

Sticking with one type of piece for a while has also allowed me to develop new ideas more fully. Before this, I made maybe ten or twenty of one thing, and moved on to the next shape. Maybe I've become more patient, or perhaps this style of working makes somewhat choppy hours that I have between meals and baby feedings feel more contiguous.

And there's the fact that I personally have found myself enjoying my morning mug of tea all that much more. A mug can be a really personal, intimate thing. A quiet moment with a favorite mug can really set the tone for the day.

It's been anything but boring. In some ways, I feel as though I could keep making mugs for a while longer, although my hands have more recently begun twitching for a different form. Soon.

I've been enjoying the new bird-shaped stamps that I made. . . and figuring out fun ways to store the stamps so I can see 'which bird is which.' :)

Oh, and there have been bikes, too. New designs, or shall I say, 'new-old' ones.

And of course there's my trusty studio buddy, who, in the mornings, isn't up to his usual trouble-making tricks yet. He sits quietly on my wedging table, 'protecting' me. :)

I must say, it's been quite peaceful in these early mornings.

~Becca

this new year

It's 2014, and life could not have changed more since 2013. Since Zoe joined us, the part of my brain that finds space to write reflectively about our lives as potters seems to have been swallowed by the all-consuming duties of motherhood.

So be it. We wouldn't trade parenthood for all the studio time in the world. It's been wonderful.

So here's to a new style of sharing - photos and brief bits about where we're at - probably not all that different from what I shared before, but maybe shorter and somewhat less eloquent and slightly more random. :)

{insert gratuitous cute baby photo}

It's hard to believe that one year ago, we were hanging the siding on our studio in the snow - it had a dirt floor and zero insulation - and making a few pots in a cramped upstairs bedroom.

This year, we are happily at work inside, making pots in the warm, sunny space we dreamed of for many years before.

We're so glad we put in five years of hard work on "infrastructure" - wood kiln and studio - so that now, between naps and diaper changes - we can get a few pots thrown. (With Lego, as per usual, seeing that we pay attention to HIM. Yes, he's on my wedging table, ahem.)

I started off the year in the studio with a few new experimental hand built pieces - pears and 'trenchers' fashioned to look like primitive wood bowls. We'll see how they come out. It's nice to experiment before heading full-force into making mugs and butter keepers. (That's my next task.)

Nathan has been working away at kiln and studio maintenance to get the kiln- and kiln shed- ready for our next firing. (Yes, we are still cleaning up from Firing #3, with a new year's resolution to clean up DIRECTLY following the next firing. :) It seems we're always running off to a show or something . . .)

In any event, he's been cutting wood and installing vent hoods and washing buckets - and on a more fun note - installing a pull up bar in his studio! It's the little things that bring joy . . .

The other day, with grandparents on the premises, we had a morning to ourselves - a "date morning," if you will - and we headed enthusiastically . . . to the kiln shed. Yup, grinding shelves and cleaning up from our third firing was our job - and actually, it was quite lovely. We were together doing what we love and putting our work lives in order. (Never thought I'd use the word "love" and "kiln maintenance" in the same sentence, but having a baby does change everything!)

In other random news (I told you there would be randomness) - we have studio plumbing!

This might not seem that exciting, until you consider that these pipes translate to things like a SINK and HEAT.

It sure is handy having a sink in a pottery studio! And central heat - in this case, radiant floor heat - is sooo nice. We'd be keeping things warm with the wood-stove while we waited for delivery of a water heater, but we were plowing through our wood and it wasn't all that warm. Just before Christmas family visits, our plumber was kind enough to jury rig a temporary set-up that involves one loop of our radiant tubes to be filled with warm water. And oh, how nice. The studio is warm and the heat is even and comfortable and requires zero maintenance. The full system gets installed tomorrow!

A warm bright studio with a long winter of pottery making and hanging out with our little girl lies ahead. Sounds about perfect to me.

Hope you're all enjoying a wonderful start to 2014.

~Becca

meet baby Z

Something pretty wonderful happened in our world this fall . . . we had a baby.

Meet Baby Z.

She was born the first of October. It is safe to say she is the light of our lives.

We'll get back to pottery-related things . . . at some point. :)

For now, we're just soaking it up . . .

Love, Becca and Nathan

slowing down . . .

It's the end of the summer here in Vermont. Our neighbors' kids are back to school, and I swear I can see a slight change in the color of the leaves if not a change in the feeling of the air around us. For us, it's a time for reflection, re-setting, and winding down a little (OK, a lot).

A great season of fairs and shows followed a great third firing of our kiln which followed the completion of our beautiful new studio.

With all that behind us, I can't help but look back at where we were a year ago, after the fair, looking ahead to the huge task of building this dream studio - in fact, I wrote this 'dreamy' post. It's sort of amazing to see what it foreshadowed - and how much more we did than I could have ever imagined . . . the roof is actually insulated!!

And just this morning, I walked across the lawn with my warm tea mug in hand to my studio space. A dream come true.

It's been so nice to shift our time and attention to our homestead for a change. Our chickens, for one, are glad for this shift : we tractor-ed their coop to a new spot with loads of fresh grass.

Now that the heat has subsided, the ladies are laying up a storm. And just in time for some summer baking - chocolate zucchini and green tomato cakes (Both are seriously good, favorite recipes of mine. And both work well with gluten-free flours. Yum.)

The garden got a little love, too. (And it needed it!) This year, our main crops (read: only - besides pottery!) were garlic and corn and a little firewood on the side - the first and latter of which have been drying nicely, and as for the corn, it is still ripening. (Here's hoping we know it's ready before the racoons do! You can just make it out amongst the tall grass in our field.) After pottery, there wasn't a whole lot of left over time and energy for gardening this year - thankfully we live in an epicenter of local food and agriculture that is Vermont. :)

There's been other shifting and organizing going on here, too. The lovely upper level of our studio saw part of its intended future use realized a bit sooner than expected: we're so happy to have finally moved our offices out of the living room in our not-so-big farmhouse and into the new building. (And the bubble wrap, packing peanuts, and boxes from the upstairs bedroom, the shipping counter out of our mudroom - you get the idea. :) )

Like the studio spaces below, it's light and bright and while somewhat unfinished, has made the whole "going to work" thing a lot more deliberate.

Now the house is for living - and reading and knitting and cooking and just being together without the distraction of desks and computers.

And just in time . . . as our house is about to become a home for a 'project' of an entirely different nature . . .

Our first baby is due to arrive the first of October, and we are so happy to be making space for our growing family. This new 'project' promises to be a much softer and more cuddly one than the concrete work we were doing last year at this time . . . although it will likely come with a lot less sleep. :)

So, yes, perhaps this provides more explanation for the aforementioned 'slowing down' (and all the incredible help we received from friends and family over the past few months while finishing this studio, moving into it, firing the kiln . . . )

We've basically been tackling major building projects since we got married four years ago (actually, we started before the wedding!), and we're finally taking some of these last pre-baby weeks to just be at home, enjoying summer, resting, and preparing for a big life change together.

Life is good . . .

~Becca

at work in our new studio

We are at work in our new studio: making pottery, being potters. Our wood kiln is just a short walk across the yard.

It sounds so simple. And it is, beautifully simple- at last.

Yet it's taken us four years to get to this point. Four years of hard physical labor, four years of juggling and planning and moving and sweating and spending and keeping 'the dream' alive through it all.

You could say it's been a lifetime in the making . . . Nathan bought our homestead nearly fifteen years ago, with the idea of setting up a studio in the old dairy barn. For better or worse, that barn collapsed.

Nathan finally has a studio of his own. He has worked for half a dozen potteries, and still teaches at a variety of educational institutions. It's been a long time coming to have a place where he could create his own layout, set out all of his tools and not have to pick them up and carry them away at the end of the day. With all of the dust-creating potential of working with clay, he has placed a floor drain in the center of the space and another in the glaze lab (funny things to be excited about, but hey . . .) and his own damp room for storing the pottery he's working on. No more constant monitoring of works in progress with a myriad of sheets of dry-cleaning plastic. These things make him very, very happy.

While I have known the joy of a studio of my own, I have never built one from scratch. Never have I started with a clean slate, with intention, or designed a space that works well for me and what I do as my full-time job.

It's clean and new and bright and I get to share it with the ones I love - man and canine. Our days are flooded in natural light and surrounded by earthly beauty.

The building is still far from finished; we will complete it as we're able. For now, we're happy bringing buckets of water from the house, and going without light fixtures. (The long daylight hours and ambient light from windows above mean we don't even need them.) We built a few adjustable pottery storage racks to get us started, but are still looking forward to figuring out more of the layout as we get a feel for the space.

We're still researching options for heating the radiant floor beneath us come chilly fall weather. The upstairs is still sub-floor and eventually we'll build some walls to separate future gallery, office, and storage. (For now, though, it's a great bunk room for visiting friends and kiln stokers.)

Despite the many things still to do - and there will always be more to do- we are happy as clams in our hard-won new work space.

We're working diligently towards a firing in early July, all the while tackling slab wood cutting and stacking, as well as a few kiln details and readying kiln shelves.

Now that the building is 'done', it's time to get to work!

~Becca

moving in to our studio

A couple of weeks ago, when the last spot of paint dried inside the studio we'd been building for the past seven months, Nathan and I decided to do something slightly uncharacteristic: we asked for some help.

We kindly asked our friends to lend a hand moving our 'studio stuff' (stored for over 2 years in a 40-foot shipping container in our front yard) into the new space. And bless their hearts, they showed up by the carload excited to work.

Thankfully, we had purchased a used flatbed trailer - back in the fall when we hauled borrowed aluminum concrete forms to and from a friend's shop to form our foundation.

Nathan hooked it up to our good ole John Deere, and it made moving a snap. It was even fun for some of the smaller folks. :)

It is true what they say: many hands make light work. With fifteen eager helpers, we moved pottery wheels, heavy tubs of raw glaze-making materials, ware boards, storage racks, furniture, boxes, bags, and containers of everything it takes for us to make pottery. There was even a bucket brigade passing boxes of clay and buckets of glaze up the steep stairs from our basement. Amazing.

It would have taken Nathan and me a week or more to do what this group accomplished in two hours.

And so we did what we could to say thanks: we hugged them and then fed them.

It was a day I'll remember forever, beautiful and perfect in so many ways, filled to the brim with that wonderful fuzzy feeling you get from feeling a part of a community of wonderful people.

We are so grateful.

~Becca and Nathan

P.S. And then we finally said good-bye to that shipping container!

studio building : siding is done*

*And by "done", we mean "mostly finished for now." :) The bulk of the ship lap hanging is behind us anyway . . . once the doors go in, we'll patch around them and call it truly good and finished.

A break in the bitter cold weather allowed us to get back outside to work on our new studio building this past week. We finished the last of the siding on the south side (as seen with chickens above), and flashed and sided the reverse gable at the north entrance. We were able to get the cupola all buttoned up with our builder the week before - in a snow storm, of course, with Nathan out on the metal roof, tied off to the framing. (We like to keep things exciting, apparently.)

It's great to be working on the studio after a little cold delay, and we're now focusing our efforts inside, insulating our roof system with rigid foam board. It might sound warmer to be 'inside', but there's no heat in the building yet . . . we keep up with the many layers of wool, keep moving, and hope for sunny days.

Slow and steady towards pottery making within these walls come spring . . .

winter is for . . .

Cake stands are not always for cake . . . but winter is always for eating. ;)

{wild blackberry muffins and cake stand by Becca ; painting by Kristine Lingle}

a new year, a new chapter

I remember hearing of a friend's resolution on the first day of 2012 to "stop talking about doing things, and actually do things." That struck a chord with me. Not that I'm one to sit around for extended periods, but there were some major things I really wanted to do this year. I really didn't want to just talk about doing them. Very high up on that list was finishing our kiln. It had been two solid years of building - much longer than anticipated, on my part anyway - and we were scraping by, using friends' kilns (some of them in other states, yeesh) to fill orders and get ready for shows and commitments to galleries. Not to mention we'd be telling people we'd be done with the kiln for what seemed like waaayy too long. It was time. to. be. done.

Well, long story short, we did it. We finished the kiln in May, and fired in June. And again in July. We even got beautiful pottery! We took our new wood-fired pottery to our biggest Maine show, and our nine-day show in New Hampshire over the summer. The response was very very positive.

These successes alone were almost momentous enough to make for a complete year. But we kept doing. We added ten more feet to the kiln shed, keeping the weather off the kiln and us a little more cozy. We closed it in, and added a wall for storing pottery (yeah, we haven't mentioned that yet here- but we did it!). We moved wood in, keeping it dry and ready for our next firing.

I built a chicken coop! We'd wanted to have our own laying hens for some time, and the urge to build a home for them was so strong it kept me awake at night. (True story, albeit weird.) Design ideas and calculations filled my head until I pulled out some old barn boards and my hammer. And we got those chickens, as chicks, actually - and we're so happy to finally be getting fresh eggs from our happy flock.

While building said coop, I decided to put the siding on a diagonal, so it would be stronger when we skidded it around the field with our tractor. That led to a Google search for tips and tricks on how to do this. That very search pulled up something much more consequential than chicken coop photos, as it turned out: in one fell swoop, I found the blog that found us a studio builder.

In a single, gutsy moment of intense craving for a studio-of-our-own, I emailed Mr. Abetti to see if we could even consider one of his beautiful barns. (Maybe we could be his crew for the project?!) This was in June. He wrote back almost immediately and we began a correspondence, including meetings on each of our summer birthdays, that resulted in an incredible building marathon that ended in a shell of studio, roofed and closed in (mostly) before this end-of-the-year snowfall.

We broke ground in September, did complicated footing layout in October, and our very own insulated concrete foundation in November. (Yeah, I still kind of can't believe this part.)

Two days before Thanksgiving, we began working on the studio structure. On the winter solstice, we had the roof on, the windows in, and the wrap on.

We're amazed, giddy, delighted, and gearing up for what looks like a lot more doing in 2013. We just moved out of our rented studio in a nearby town, and put our pottery making tools and supplies into storage. Woah. Yup, we're making a big leap : we're very hopeful banking on the fact that the next pottery we make will be in our new studio. (Say hello to buckets of water, unfinished walls, and extension cords!)

On this New Year's Day, however, we are enjoying reflecting and giving thanks for all of YOU who helped us get to this point. (OK, let's be honest, we are also working . . . by starting to put siding on our studio building! We might not be able to match 2012 in productivity and excitement, but we'll sure try. ;)

Here's to a wonderful 2013.

Cheers,

~Becca

with gratitude

Yesterday, we had what could only be called a very last minute open house. We sent emails, and posted on Facebook, and we thought we might get a couple of visitors to see the new studio building.

In a few short hours, however, we were overwhelmed and delighted by the incredible turn out. People came from all over our little town. They came from neighboring towns- and states. People who had never been here invited friends, and we met many new, wonderful people. Everyone enjoyed hot cocoa in Nathan's cute little mugs, laughed at the chickens, and marveled at how in two short months, we've gone from a muddy, ledge-ridden hole to a towering gorgeous building. While that was happening, other folks continued to order pottery from our website.

Wow. Seriously, wow.

2012 has been a momentous year for us. (Heck, make that a momentous four years.) We can't even begin to log the hours of work we've put into building and finishing our wood kiln, firing it for the first two times, and launching into another huge building project without much (any?) time off. And while the last four years have been exciting, we'll be honest: it hasn't been easy. Life has been unsettled, and trying at times. We've 'been through the fire', so to speak, both as individuals, and as a couple. We've felt vulnerable, and we've even been scared. We've learned SO much. About masonry- and about working together. About carpentry- and about marriage. About concrete- and about perseverance.

And the hard work is not over, not at all.

But out of all of this, we see a light at the end of a long tunnel - we are watching our dream unfold, and it turns out it's bigger and more amazing than we could have imagined. We get to be potters again soon! We get to do the thing we love - the thing that prompted and motivated all of this building in the first place. Call me crazy, but making pottery - and making a living at it - is the thing that gets me out of bed in the dark and cold, to pull on the long underwear and wool hat, and get back to work outside. In December. In Vermont.

But the most amazing part of all this - and the reason I'm reflecting on this deeply personal stuff here, is because of YOU. I'm writing this now because it means so SO much to us to have the kind of support and enthusiasm we felt yesterday, and that we've felt throughout the year at our shows. It brings tears to my eyes - tears of gratitude and thanks - that you would tell us, and show us with your presence, that you, too, think we're doing something great, something worth getting up in the cold and dark for.

Thank you for buying pottery, truly.

Thank you for gifting it, and for telling your friends and family about us. Thank you for sending us photos of your dinner on one of our plates, or your coffee mug on your desk, or your cat in one of our bowls. (Yes, this has happened more that once!)

Thank you for telling us that you enjoy using our pottery, and for believing that something handmade by another human is important, or at least enjoyable.

Thank you so very much for helping us pursue what we love doing!

Wishing you the happiest of holiday seasons,

~Becca and Nathan

a solid concrete footing

This was a big day. A very big day.

We woke before sunrise, and to say I was nervous would be an understatement. I was very, very nervous. You might even say I was scared. Yup. After weeks of prep work, there would be two large and heavy loads of concrete in our backyard. We considered having someone more seasoned here with us, but we felt confident we could do it. (Well, confident BEFORE the nightmare I had where all the form boards burst open and collapsed and we were rebuilding frantically while the concrete continued to flow . . . fortunately, things went much smoother than that.)

We had two very nice truck operators, willing to accommodate us rookies, and as soon as things were underway, we were breathing a sigh of relief. (There's nothing like the need to work QUICKLY to keep a girl from worrying about the truck getting stuck, or the chute taking off one of our heads.) Nathan worked with the hoe and shovel, directing the truck and the flow, while I followed behind with the scree boards and trowel.

We got into a rhythm, and I might even say I enjoyed myself! (There was plenty of adrenaline, that's for sure.) Our forms were holding really well and the mix was stiff enough that it wasn't seeping through all the drops (step-downs). When the first truck emptied his load, the second was right behind him, and in position before we knew it, pouring the remainder of the north wall

It's a thing of beauty, isn't it?! A solid foundation from which to build our dream studio. (Lego approves - although not as happy about the having-to-be-leashed part - but we didn't want our dog stuck in our footing.)

Now, maybe a nap before the next big phase. We'll be form building next week, and this will start to look more like a studio before we know it . . .

Happy Weekend! ~Becca

in our home

One of the best things about having 'fresh pottery' is seeing it in our home. People are always remarking that we must have a great set of dishes . . . well, it's something akin to the old saying about the cobbler's children going unshod- yes, we have handmade dishes, but no, they don't match, and usually we got to keep them because there was some flaw or another. We don't mind. It certainly adds character to every meal!

On other occasions, a piece is waiting on the kitchen table to be shipped or go to a show - and I can't resist putting flowers or vegetables in it ever so briefly! And every once in a while (i.e. very rarely), we just might decide to *keep* something especially beautiful for ourselves, just to remember where we've come from and what our best work was in that snapshot of time. It is this quest for beauty- for the 'perfect pot' - that keeps us going and making and loving what we do.

~Becca

sweet sweet days

I know I've probably said this before, but I think it might be safe to say that we are never more content than during an uninterrupted stretch of days working on our farm. This was one of those sweet days in a series of days where the sun shone on our laboring bodies, and after the hours of work were done, we still lingered at the kiln shed in the fading light and calm air, soaking up the joy and satisfaction of our day's progress- of nearly completed kiln adobe and stone retaining walls- under a beautiful night sky.

handmade at home

One of my favorite things about being a potter is finding unexpected uses for things we- or other folks- have made. This week, one of our very large platters made it into the house before it got returned to the showroom, and during its stop-over in our kitchen, has been used for everything from keeping hats and gloves out of Lego's reach, to holding fruit and an oven mitt (also likely placed there to avoid the puppy's chewing mouth!). An oval baking dish, back from being used as a demo in Nathan's class, became a mail-and-magazine holder- a quick way to turn clutter into something a little nicer to look in the midst of a busy week. (Oh, by the way, that adorable 'heart woman' as I call her, is a clay finger puppet by Jane Kaufmann.)

And while I was snapping photos, I thought I'd share a few more non-traditional ways we use pottery in our daily home life . . . an small oval vase turned office-letter-organizer, and an oval plate by Kari Radasch turned olive-oil-cruet-and-garlic-clove holder. A few pieces we use more traditionally are the 'barn jar' I use for sea salt, and 'puffy' soap dish by David Orser and Laurel MacDuffie respectively, tiny ring-bowls by Wayne Fuerst, and this cookie jar by Nathan that holds a very large bag of puppy treats on top of our fridge! (Oh, and believe it or not, I made the pewter spoon in a metal casting class with Paulette Werger!)

How do you use handmade pieces in your home, kitchen, or office? We'd love to hear from you! (Oh, and by the way, we've disabled our comments temporarily because of spam . . . in the meantime, our Facebook page is the best place to leave a comment/question/photo.)