Day in the Life of an Idiot

Things have not slowed down.

This should be evident by the vast number of posts I have not done here since, oh, mid-February. I'd been steadily building up a stock of pots in the studio for a late March or early April firing, interspersed with afternoons desultorily working on taxes. Visits to the dentist slowly, incrementally getting ready for the premolar implant that's finally gonna be finished next week.

Then everything blew up.

I got an email from my gallery in Olympia; they'd asked about a squirrel tall mug back in February, right after I'd loaded the kiln. Didn't have one, offered to put one in my next firing. They said that'd be fine, it would give them time to put an order together.

A thousand-dollar wholesale order. (That's $2000 worth of pots at retail). So I had to make another dozen serving bowls. Nine pasta serving bowls. Three more colanders, and I broke my hole-cutter and had to go down to Oregon Art Supply for a new one. I'd already made 60 tall mugs, so diverting 18 to them wouldn't be that hard, and I'd be making soup bowls regardless. Honey jars I'm pretty sure I have left over from the last firing. But between this order, an eight-place dinner set and platters that didn't fit in last time, plus Empty Bowls for Food for Lane County, there's going to be precious little space for more pots for Saturday Market.

Club Mud's studio sale is coming up in early March, so I needed to sort out some pots for them. I've precious few seconds at the moment, so I planned to pick out firsts that I had most of, so as not to handicap my Saturday Market opening. Backed the van out of the carport and over a screw, so got an extremely flat tire. The bead was broken, so I couldn't just inflate it and drive to Les Schwab, had to jack it up. For some reason, the body came up off the ground, but the wheel didn't, something something rear suspension? I had to put a second jack under the axle, but the car doesn't have a jack, just some sort of strap, and how does that even work? Wound up stealing the jack from Denise's papermaking press, and finally got the tire off and down to Schwab's. They fix flats for free, which was a bright spot, and one of the reasons I go back to them when we need new tires.

And now it's March, I'm still only halfway through taxes, I had to preside over the last Club Mud meeting because the president was out with pneumonia. I'm going to the dentist on Tuesday, I'm flying back to Wisconsin next Friday to meet with nephew and wife to try to get a handle on the Brookfield house situation, and also steal a day to go see my mother. I volunteered to run an Empty Bowls Throw-athon at Club Mud the Saturday after I get back, and sometime before April 4 I have to get the van sorted and restocked for Market. And I only finally got all the pots home from my last firing today.

But there's a wren who's been singing in the blackberries outside my studio, the waxwings came through yesterday, and a chickadee has rediscovered our seed feeder. Violets have been blooming outside my studio door since late February, and the first three daffodils are open.

It could be worse.