Purl and Seam

Following Mr S’s birthday trip to Bentham Pottery there has been a lot of scouting on eBay for a second hand potter’s wheel and kiln. (Obviously he’s been doing that.  I’m far too busy hunting down Crown Stockholm and Poole pottery, and drooling over vintage sewing machines that I have absolutely no room for.)

He’s even threatened to clear all the junk from the garage to make room for said wheel and kiln.

But it all hinged on today.

Because today he spent the whole day having one-to-one tuition with Lee at Bentham.

He threw 45 pots.

He’s bringing these 4 home when they’ve been fired (‘scuse fuzzy iPhone photos)He seems to have a real knack for this.

I’d happily pay good money for any of those in a shop.   I know I’m biased but I do think these are pretty darned amazing…even more so when you realise that he’s been doing this for less than 10 hours.

Smarty pants!

(All the lovely ones lurking in the background are his too, but he had to choose 4.   I feel sad for the ones left behind.  I’d have found them jolly good homes.)

So, I’ve a feeling I’m going to become a pottery widow.

With a very tidy garage!

Shame *wink*

Last night we lost our beloved Charlie.

He has been living at Aunty Christian’s Home for Retired Furballs since the wedding, and having a high old time of it.  There have been gentle walks, sleeping on sofas, long chats with his comrade-in-arms Nino, and treats aplenty.  It’s been the perfect spot for an elderly gentleman to spend his time without the constant boisterous attentions of our two Chaos Monsters.

He loved them all dearly and we can never repay her for the love and kindness she showed him over the last few months.

On Thursday afternoon we received a call saying he was having difficulty with his legs and kept collapsing.  Something was obviously very wrong.  A trip to the vet confirmed this, and whilst she had her suspicions about the cause, the only way to really find out what the problem was would be to submit him to surgery that he probably wouldn’t survive, and if he did would mean a long and painful recovery, with no guarantees that the surgery would actually be successful.

Not something any of us believed to be in his best interests.

So we tried steroids and painkillers, but last night he deteriorated rapidly and we had to make the hard and terrible decision to let him go.

We are heartbroken.

He was the best dog.  Kind and generous and loving.  He adored children and didn’t bat an eyelid when they played motorbikes with his ears or tickled his toes.

He had a mischievous sense of humour and a boundless zest for life.He was partial to a meat and potato pie and never knowingly missed a curry supper.

He was adored by everyone who ever met him.

And all this despite being abandoned by his previous owners who beat him to within an inch of his life with a claw hammer.  But he never held a grudge about this.  Mr S rescued him and lovingly nursed him back to full health.  Charlie repaid him with a magnificent temperament, a loving heart and total devotion to us all.

Goodbye Charlie Bear.  We love you.

Mr S has long held a wish to try his hand a throwing pots.  Our local adult education college runs evening courses but because of his work schedule it’s not something he can commit to.  So, for his birthday I surprised him yesterday with an afternoon pottery course.  And I joined him!

We started off with tea and scrummy homemade cakes at the most charming little tea rooms on the way to the pottery.

Oh goodness.  The cakes are to die for! You can just see Mr S’s Bakewell Tart peeking out.  It didn’t last long, I can tell you!

Then we headed off to the pottery.  At this point he didn’t know what I had in store for him.  His nearest guess had been horse riding, but, as I pointed out to him, this would be a gift for me not him.  And I’m just not that mean.

As the sat nav turned him into the driveway to the pottery the penny dropped, his face lit up and I knew I’d got it right.

We started the day by making a tile of clay with a little picture on it, then cutting it up.  Quelle horreur!  The pieces were than turned into a pieced bowl with little balls and wiggles and swirls of clay.

And after that they turned us loose on the wheel.

I am so rubbish at this!  I have no feel for the clay at all.

Mr S, however, is to the manner born.

And, with a smidge of help from the delightful Kathy

This is what he made:

He’s thrilled.

I’m proud.

He’s already talking about going back for a full day on his own next month to really get his teeth into this with a view to putting a wheel and and a kiln in the garage!

Result!