It's August.

It's been an exciting week over here.  First week of the first grade (it's been just great!). First egg from our little flock (after wondering if my chickens were indeed the type that produced eggs).  My grandparents have moved up from Louisiana and there's been a hurry-scurry to get their space ready for them. 

Oh, and the vapors of hell have ascended and rest heavily on Memphis.  Our daily highs have been 100 and over.  It hasn't been below 80 all week.  And the humidity, which I jokingly refer to as "gracious" has become an iron fist in velvet gloves, clutching at our lungs.  It's hard to get a breath during the heat of the day*.   I'm beat.  And wondering if I can manage to post anything here more than once a week.  I think we can live with that, though.  Don't you? Because fall is on its way, and we'll all have more energy.

But isn't the egg pretty?  My boy was so excited about it.  Ready to check again for eggs roughly every 12 hours.  Our other hen (Edna) will produce a brown egg- speckled or not, we'll find out.  Our old araucanas laid greenish eggs.  Pearl is an araucana. I bought a beautiful speckled brown egg earlier this spring- I still think of it, glaze-wise.  I'm not much of a fan of brown pottery, but this speckled tan was really lovely.  So I'll be working all of that out once it's cool enough to fire more regularly again.
I have been making pots all week and spent a few hours last night drawing on them.  I'm very pleased with what I've made and eager to finish them.  They are tucked away in the kiln, along with the pieces I made during the workshop with Diana Fayt.  These pieces feel more like me, and I'm happy with that.  And I'm close to being out of my regular stoneware, so I moved into porcelains again this week.  I made porcelain mugs and honey pots, a few vases, several eggs.  I have plenty of stoneware in my reclaim buckets, but they need to be rehydrated and wedged.  I had a jones for throwing this week, so porcelain it was.

I'm at an all-time low in my inventory.  It's nice.  But scary.  Really scary.  No mugs.  No berry bowls.  One honey pot.  No butter crocks.  I have work made, I have work made and fired and ready to glaze.  I just can't fire it.  First break in the heat and I'll crank the kiln right up.

I hope that you'll see this form again after firing- it's a new favorite of mine.  It's familiar, but I'm not sure where it came from.  I made this pitcher earlier this spring, and when I was cleaning it up in preparation for glazing the bottom of the handle broke off.  I glaze-glued it back together, hoping beyond hope that it would stick, but it didn't, really.  The crack is both clearly visible and wonky.  I couldn't bear to throw it away, so now it's my chicken feed scoop.  Pampered chooks they are.  I've made several pitchers that look like this- labeled with "syrup" for some friends, and "lait" for the general public.  I expect I'll be making more.

Hope your weekend treats you well.

*If you aren't from the South and you've heard us talk and wonder why we talk slow, move slow- it's because it is too damn hot and humid to do anything fast, especially in August.