That, and Five Dollars Will Buy You Ecstasy

How exciting- it's a... bowl. And not even clay. But wait, it's the search for the bowl that fills this story. A search that has lasted for almost 30 years. It's the fourth in a set of nesting bowls by Pyrex. Mommie made banana puddin' and mashed potato salad, in the largest bowl (no not together), which was yellow. In her set, there was salmon, red, green and yellow. Somewhere in the years after her death, all the bowls, with the exception of the yellow, were missing from my cabinets. A good friend filled in the red and green ones for me. I searched for the last one at rummage sales, antique malls, flea markets- all to no avail.

I was at yet another antique mall, this day, and I had scoured all the booths. Once again, disappointment was all that had caught my eye. I heaved the inevitable oh-well-sigh, and had begun to say the last rites for this search: "I guess I'll find it one day". Yes, it was a very Eeyore moment. But I had not even fully finished the last word...gasp. When, what to my wandering (sic) eyes should appear, but the very bowl I'd searched for, through many a long year. (my apologies to Clement Moore) There it was in blue. I almost did the dance-of-happy right there in the aisle. But seeing a large lady dancing about in pure ecstasy, over a bowl, (or really- over anything) might have cleared the mall of potential customers. I demurely settled for an shrill schoolgirl scream.

I gleefully strolled up to the counter to make my purchase. Actually, I looked more like Jimmy Stewart in It's A Wonderful Life, doing the 'moma and papa dollar' dance after the run on the bank. The price tag was marked- $10. How perfect. Through the years, I have found other sets that weren't complete or with the wrong pattern, and they had been over $60. I would have gladly paid $20 just for that one bowl. I was on a Pyrex-high when I reached the check-out. But wait, here's the extra serving in my bowl story. There, I was informed that all items in that booth were 50% off, and it would really be a mere- $5. Whoa Moma. Ooh. Ooh. Sweet! I finished making my purchase, giggling all the while. And when I left the store, the cashier was shaking her head and upon her lips- a story that is sure to become the stuff of legends... Giggle.

Last Of The Summer Reds

Autumn trys to convince me with her sensuous siren song that she is here to stay. But when these beauties provide plump, tangy explosions of delight- Summer's song wins out. I also have rosemary in aromatic, bushy profusion. I am looking forward to Thanksgiving, when I will slip several sprigs between the breast skin and into the turkey cavity before its baking. Yummy. All the rest of my small garden has stopped producing. No peppers, basil or sage. My Sweet Williams, though, have started to flourish since the grasshoppers stopped producing themselves.

Enoki (named after the mushroom because of two white toes) came "maa-ing" down the hall at me today. It did actually sound like a tiny lamb. She couldn't meow because she had her mouth full of grasshopper. She deposited it at my feet and looked most proud of herself. She and her brother, Finch, are very good wranglers of insects. Enoki catches and Finch feasts. E-eew. No kitty kisses, please.

Did You Say "Puppy Biscuit"?

Yes, the pupper girl is feeling much better, thank you very much. At about 10:00 pm last night, she decided food was needed. She had gone all day without anything except a horrid look about her. Today she's back to her more than normal self. Chasing brothers, sisters and barking buzzards from her airspace. All in a day's woof.

Waiting On Daylight

You know, alarm clock makers ought to make one with the sound of a dog- puking. 'Cause it'll get you moving and wide awake- instantly. And I was, at 4:00 this morning. My furkids have bed privileges. Or actually, with 3 dogs, 2 cats and me in a king-sized bed, I'm allowed the bed privilege.

Anyway, back to the story. Barucha (Aussie, almost 2 yrs old) was majoring in Puke 101 on the floor. Mommie scrambles out of bed, "come-on puppers, let's go outside" in an excited voice, but trying not to scare her. She's still young enough to think that emissions from the front end must be as wrong as those from the hind end. It's not- I know she can't help it. I just wanted to get the next puddle, should there be one, to happen on dirt, not carpet. After coming back inside, spot cleaning the carpet and poking a Pepto tab down a sick dog throat- we went back to bed. Hmmm. I don't remember hitting the snooze button on the Puke alarm. Yep. Repeat the steps from an hour ago.

We have a call into Dr. Paul, because the second Pepto tab didn't stay down and Barucha has "stinky butt". That's the term of endearment I have for diarrhea. I am, as I type, dressed for mowing the lawn, and I was just waiting on daylight. Oh look. There's a light now. Hey, there aren't any train tracks...

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While I'm still recovering from past Pottery sales and getting to new ones, I haven't had a chance (or made time) to post new articles. I added the FeedBlitz option to my blog page. If you're tired of visiting and finding nothing new, please subscribe- it's free and there is no spamming. Look at the bottom of the right-hand column for the entry space. An e-mail will be sent to the your mailbox, each time I post a new article. You can also un-subscribe, at any time, with no problems. Cheers, and have a grand week. Oh. Don't forget to feed Lida Rose down at the very bottom of this page...

Glazed Bakedgoods- With Calories

Happy Birthday to me, today...As you can see, I spared no expense when buying the cake. My pretty little mini-cake is chocolate and had purple and blue stripes of gooey, guilt-laced icing. Both scrumptious and inner-child pleasing.

Unfortunately, that one last stop on the To-Do list was almost responsible for its demise. It's still a bit warm here in Texas and the cake had a wicked-witch-of-the-West-moment. Melting, melting. All the sweetcream icing flowing down like lava, forming a puddle of blue-purple at the bottom. Wow, is that Richard Harris I hear singing in the background. I managed to swirl it back onto the cake and let it recover in the fridge.

I'm going to celebrate today in Technicolor. Meatloaf, loaded smashed potatoes, and green beans are on the pre-cake menu. It's just me and the Furkids today. Cards, calls and e-mails will abound, though. So, I am safe and secure in the knowledge of my friends and family's love for me. And that my Heavenly Father loves me- His daughter. Life doesn't get any better than that. My heart is full.

Counting Chickens Before They Hatch- Ceramic Version

My Dance of Happy has slowed a wee bit. This is what happens when you try to rush the drying of pottery in a bisque firing and it says "No-I don't wanna", rather emphatically. Water becomes steam and it has to come out somewhere. What could have been in my checking account after being sold, is lying in shards upon the kiln shelf. But on a still-in-one-piece note, the second shelf is fine. Eggs. Chickens. Pottery. Ehh, it's all the same- only safe when sold or hatched.

Glazed Bakegoods- Without Calories

Drumroll please. Kiln opens... and I'm happy,happy,happy. Doing the Dance of Happy. No creative before-and-after pics this time, just posting results. I'm especially enamored with the platter. It is going on the Inventory List as "Barely Fits". That's because I made, before I measured. If one has a kiln a certain size, one should only make pottery which fits into said kiln. Almost had a platter-sized serving of "Whoops".