Afire

Last firing of the year came out on Friday, and everything was generally excellent. Lovely, consistent reduction, just a little swipe of oxidation down the bottom center. Think we may need to plug some cracks in the car base–maybe silica sand? A few things cracked--a baking dish, a covered casserole--not surprising, given how rushed I was. I also managed to break a casserole myself, trying to tap loose a stuck lid. sigh. Took the other stuck-lid casserole home, warmed it up in a 200° oven and then ran an ice cube around the lid until it shrank and popped free on its own. Will definitely have to keep that trick in my repertoire. Some pics...




And yes, that is the same turkey from my Inktober sketchbook on the platter.

Portrait of the artists doing boring, administrative stuff

So Tea came in while I was unloading, and insisted on taking some pictures of us with my phone. We'd already finished the exciting scenes–pulling pots from the kiln, carrying away loaded ware boards. So here I am, wrapping mugs in bubble wrap, while Denise takes inventory, in front of the heater.

Getting the bugs out

Posted these from Holiday Market on Sunday as "Today's Theme Is" to Instagram, and it occurred to me, after the fact, that the perfect song to accompany them would be "My Brother Eats Bugs."  Searched their music offerings and found two cover versions of the song, which surprised the hell out of me...

Because I wrote it in 1985!


Long before I moved to Oregon, long before grad school and the adventurous life of a self-employed craftsman, I was living in La Crosse, Wisconsin, working as a graphic artist, cartoonist, and, for fun, a children's storyteller. I was writing and performing stories for Earticklers, a show on WLSU public radio, hosted by two children's librarians, Marge Loch-Wouters and Carol Erickson. Carol's partner Hans was a musician, he'd written the show's theme song, but resisted writing anything else for the show. I don't have any ideas, he protested. Why don't you talk to Frank? she replied.

The first time we met, I brought along a poem I'd written for the radio, and a lyric about all the things my siblings and I had been scared of as kids; in fifteen minutes, he'd written tunes for them. He then pitched some ideas to me, including the story of how his younger brother Kit had eaten spiders as a kid to gross out older brother Fred.

The next time we met, I brought along "My Brother Eats Bugs," and history (and also geography) was born, Already he was talking about making an album, and to my protests that I didn't sing, replied, Sure you do! You just did! We recorded My Brother Eats Bugs that summer in an ad agency studio in Trempeleau, and I designed and illustrated the accompanying songbook at my print shop job. Then I packed up my stuff and moved to Oregon for graduate school. Flew back for album release concerts, and again in the summer of 1987 to record the follow up, When I'm Feeling Silly (released in 1988). More concerts, both in Wisconsin and Oregon. And then we kinda drifted apart, musically. I'd still send him lyrics from time to time, and he's been performing and recording kid's music solo ever since. But we haven't done a concert together since, oh, 1990.

2025 marks the fortieth anniversary of My Brother Eats Bugs, and I'm wondering if it's time for a reunion concert. I should mention the idea to Hans.

Put a bug in his ear...

A smashing success

I had to be down early both days at Market last weekend. On Saturday, I was doing early morning security, which mostly involved opening doors for vendors coming in with both hands full of product, and deflecting the occasional non-vendor out to the front lobby to wait until we opened at 10. They found the box of badges that had gone missing last year, so Umberto got to be the Beariff; I'm just the deputy, I tell people.

Sunday morning was the annual Pot Smash: A Charity Auction with Percussive Interludes. We potters donate seconds and orphans from special orders, some of the other vendors also bring their crafts, and we have a pre-opening auction to raise funds for the Kareng Fund, a Saturday Market Emergency Relief Fund for craftspeople. Some folks buy things for Christmas presents; some buy things for the joy of breaking them. We always bring a box of unsellables, and if things start getting a little sleepy, dropping a pot on the concrete floor wakes them right up again.

One of our founding members and auctioneer, Jon King, wasn't able to participate this year; he's recovering from radiation and chemo. We recruited a new helper, Kevin, whose partner sells bleach-dyed clothing. He's a funny, clever guy who, once he got over opening sale nerves, proved to be a natural. He, Alex and I kept things moving, and had gotten through all the lots with about a half hour to go before opening. Raised over $4000 for the fund, which has collected and disbursed over $100K in the years since it was found.

Sunday also seemed to be KLCC reunion day. First Pete Lavelle and Cina Kraft stopped by. Pete was long-time host of folk show The Back Porch, while Cina hosted the eclectic Heartwood Hotel. Late in the morning, Leslie Hildreth and husband Mark Herring said hello; Leslie was a news host who later transitioned to music, leading the Sunday morning Celtic program, The Mist-Covered Mountain. And we got a visit from Claude and Hannah Offenbacher; Claude was Weekend Edition-Sunday local news host for years.

Had a couple different people looking for presents for their office gift exchange. The first told me how she'd totally won her office exchange last year by bringing one of my tall mugs with a cheetah on it. She works at a veterinary hospital specializing in difficult referrals, that also treated animals for Wildlife Safari, down in Winston. Including cheetahs. It was one of those exchanges where people can steal each other's presents, and everybody was stealing the cheetah. At one point, someone even stole the business card that was in the mug, even though she'd brought extras.

I being an evil little troll, was pleased to point out that I had another cheetah mug on the shelf this year, so she snatched it up. With extra extra business cards.

The second seeker was ambivalent about her office's White Elephant exchange. Some people try and bring nice things, she said, While others just bring gag presents. I'm not sure which way to go. Why not bring an actual white elephant? I ask, pointing to the elephant tall mug I'd just put out to replace the cheetah. She though it the perfect compromise.

I've mentioned before how I like to play "What's your favorite animal?" with kids in my booth. I may have even mentioned that time I got stumped by an eight-year-old's deadpan, Great White Shark.

Well, Sunday morning, a mother and slightly older son stopped by. She was trying to interest him in the bunnies plate, or maybe mixing crock, but he wasn't too impressed. What's your favorite animal? I asked him. Sharks, he said. Like this? I asked, reaching past him to bring Great White Shark tall mug down off the shelf.

Exactly like that. Turns out his dad is a shark fan too. He bought it for him, cash, with his own money. And I finally got some closure on my shark trauma.