Me and my paper dolls have been busy with the constantinterruptions of a day job, some school, and a head cold. The next week is promising, though. We'll buy our first house this week. It's big, comfortable, hardwood floors and leded glass, a room of windows off the bedroom, good space to garden in, room to grow and a nice neighborhood. I'm going to paint in the attic, my husband wants to brew beer in the basement. It's perfect and in a couple of days we sign a bunch of papers, sell our souls to the bank and they give us some keys. We're excited.

Amid my cold this week, I got obsessed again by clay. I'd blow my nose a billion times and then pick up a copy of Ceramics Monthly. I dragged my sniffly self in to work on Tuesday mostly so I could stick around for my clay class where my only goal was to throw a closed form and then cut it open so I could have a vessel and lid. Folks who teach ceramics effortlessly throw perfect forms. I throw lumpy messes that center one minute and falter the next. In the same sort of way that I couldn't breathe right all week, couldn't formthoughts too well, made plenty of tactical errors...I couldn't (or simply didn't) get the clay to behave. I opened too early and I moved my elbow away from my body too much.

But no, I don't think I'll be putting a wheel in my basement, I'm just excited to have a basement. And yep, we're hoping it's a fireproof house.

See ya.
take care,
Rachael