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So I made contact with the person who's selling the kiln, and she writes back and says she and her partner are home after five, so I should call then.
And I said, "Hmm, 'and her partner', eh?"
And I called her, and we set up a meeting in a grocery store parking lot (partly because she says it's hard to get to her place without guidance, partly, I'm guessing, on the 'make sure the people from the internet aren't crazy' principle).
And I identify the car, and am looking at it, and, yup, rainbow edging on the plate. And a leather pride flag.
Hee.
The couple reminded me of a bunch of my classmates from Feri training -- that generation of amiably partnered grey-haired women. They are apparently from Colorado, and amused by local placename pronunciation (but really, that's because it's funny).
I'm getting a kiln! We're hoping to pick it up tomorrow.
Kiln!
(I still feel physically phffft, but kiln!)
And I said, "Hmm, 'and her partner', eh?"
And I called her, and we set up a meeting in a grocery store parking lot (partly because she says it's hard to get to her place without guidance, partly, I'm guessing, on the 'make sure the people from the internet aren't crazy' principle).
And I identify the car, and am looking at it, and, yup, rainbow edging on the plate. And a leather pride flag.
Hee.
The couple reminded me of a bunch of my classmates from Feri training -- that generation of amiably partnered grey-haired women. They are apparently from Colorado, and amused by local placename pronunciation (but really, that's because it's funny).
I'm getting a kiln! We're hoping to pick it up tomorrow.
Kiln!
(I still feel physically phffft, but kiln!)
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(It doesn't quite have the same ring as Hooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooouse, but it will, I think, do, yes?)
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(I think my favorite local placename is still Braintree. Because - Braintree! This is a Braintree-bound train! This train is going to Braintree! I GET VISUALS EVERY TIME, LOL. But there is a lot of competition. [g])
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"Wadies and Gentoomen, the twain cuwwently entooing the station is a Bwaintwee Twain, wepeat, a BWAINTWEE TWAIN."
I never knew Elmer Fudd worked for the MBTA.
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I would not object to seeing you, of course, but for the moving of objectness it is not needful.
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The short version of the story is that I did a lot of ceramics work in high school, and it's one of those "doing this feeds my soul" sorts of things. And I haven't been able to do it since. (I've tried to keep the urge mostly under control with occasional bits of polymer clay, but so not the same.)
One of our criteria when looking for new house was space that I could use as a studio. We have a little basement room that I intend to take over and use for my nefarious purposes.
There will be starting a small business in the long run, because, well, if I just putter around making things, the house will slowly fill with pots, and this is probably subideal. So a mechanism for getting rid of things readily will also be constructed. (I've interrogated various crazed pagans with, basically, 'So, what sort of ceramic stuff would be useful to you that you just can't get?', on the principle that the whole thing is a devotional exercise, so it might as well be useful all around.)
I've been having an almost-painful urge to make statues the last few days, so I sort of said, "Oh, what the hell" and checked local Craigslist to see if anyone was selling one, and these folks had one up for $400 (list price on a new one of this model is like $1100, and this is slightly smaller than the ones I was looking at). So I'm getting the kiln for this for, like, a fifth what I had budgeted.
And ... handsinclayhandsinclayhandsinclaymustMAKEthings.
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:::wonders where her grey-haired partner is:::
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