I have the laundry well on it's way, and as Micah's been packed off to school and Randall's in town,
And as there's still an hour or so before lunch time...
I think I might just go dig out my pottery table.
It's in the garage, and I suggested that I'd like to move it under the window, but that will be a very labour intensive undertaking necessitating the moving of several other desks and bookshelves,
So I may, in the absence of men and boys,
Just move the few boxes that are on the top of it and so gain access to that long neglected canvas covered surface.
Or at least clear enough space to wedge a mound of clay.
I chose to bring my half box of new clay home at the end of last week's class at the Curling and Craft Center. It's not a pottery studio the way the basement of the Art Centre in Prince Albert is a pottery studio; a couple of canvas covered tables, a couple of shelves to hold projects and a limited amount of tools...
But they have kilns, and if I have a sturdy pottery table in my garage and a plethora of good pottery tools, I lack that essential element.
I think I should have something to show for my week when I go back tomorrow night, so I shouldn't put it off any longer.
To the garage!
(And the title? Has nothing, really, to do with anything. It was just the first thing that popped into my head... and is still rippling through in an annoying, albeit melodious, way.)