offcntr | Entries tagged with fire

I didn't get any break at all after Clay Fest; Monday morning, I was back in the studio glazing. I had only six days to glaze the whole kiln load; had to load the kiln on Sunday because of a dental appointment Tuesday. Wound up doing a couple of marathon sessions, packing lunch and supper and glazing straight through till late, but managed to get everything finished by Saturday afternoon.

So I didn't get many pictures in process, just a few pet-centric special orders:

Loading the kiln on Sunday was an adventure. Not only was my Journalism grad student back for more video footage, but I had to Zoom two meetings, the Clayfolk chairs meeting and the general/booth pick. Zoom app on my phone was wonky, lying to me. Said my mike was muted when it wasn't, so people who didn't pin the chair pic kept flipping to me setting shelves. Very embarrassing.

Loading the kiln got a little easier. Jon somehow managed to fire the last load with a carpenter's level still inside, so the bottom shelves were fused glass and aluminum. Karen had scored some one-inch mullite shelves at BRING, so we replaced them all. Hadn't realized how pitted and saggy the old ones were until I was able to stack a load without having to shim and level random low spots. So even with all the distractions, we still managed to close up by 4 pm, our usual time.

Firing went long on Monday. I'm still trying to figure out a firing cycle that doesn't over-reduce the top while not allowing oxidation spots elsewhere. As you can see, I wasn't entirely successful, but it was still generally a good firing. And I spent the extra time waiting for temperature by getting a head start on glazing for my next kiln.

fireworks next exit, open all year round

It's been surprisingly quiet the past few days, surprising, as this is our annual holiday dedicated to ~~blowing shit up and setting it on fire~~ American independence. It's usually pretty noisy in the days leading up to the big event.

I was particularly worried this year. In the past, we've forgone the big municipal fireworks displays in favor of just riding our bikes through the neighborhood, watching the nearly professional grade rockets people are shooting off from the middle of the street all around us. This year, a couple of weeks back, I was disturbed by repeated pounding noises coming from outside. Went out and discovered workmen using a power hammer to drive four-foot steel stakes into the blacktop of the parking lot at the Lutheran Church next door, setting up this.

It's a Factory Fireworks Outlet tent, they're here every year. They usually set up in the FourSquare Church lot down by the post office, one year in the Albertson's lot in Santa Clara Square. This was a little too close for comfort.

As time progressed, I waited for the product to arrive, the traffic, the explosions. The big sign offering the best prices--Compare and Save!*--presided over an empty tent. Finally late last week, I rode up to see they'd added a rather petulant panel to the bottom of the sign, Factory Fireworks Outlet has moved to Springfield, Junction City and Veneta. Today they've doubled down, added an even bigger sign with the same information.

Finally on Thursday, the mystery was solved. I happened to be listening to KLCC's top-of-the-hour newscast while running errands, and found out that Eugene passed an ordinance last October banning all home-based fireworks. Nothing more powerful than poppers and sparklers are allowed. This is the first Fourth of July since the ordnance ordinance went into effect.

Technically, they'd be in the clear, I think. Where we are on River Road, though Eugene in mailing address, is outside of city limits, in Lane County jurisdiction. This is lovely when property taxes come due, less so when we have to re-up our library cards, and lets us be supremely indifferent to all the nonsense the City Council gets up to. The border is a little patchwork, however; a lot of new developments, and older lots changing hands, wind up getting annexed by Eugene. (Fortunately, we bought our house in 2000, before they started this practice.)

I suppose it's possible that the Lutherans are in a patch of Eugene; more likely, the fireworks folks just don't want to risk being busted for selling to Eugene residents. Who may very well be smuggling in illicit rocketry down River Road from Junction City, or just going to the tent in the used car lot along Beltline, behind the wastewater treatment plant. But I hope the Lutherans at least get their rent money, if not repairs to the blacktop.

And I wait with bated breath to see how the Fourth pans out.

*I totally would have gone with More Bang for Your Buck! but then I'm like that.

It being the Saturday before Easter, my theme at Market was fairly obvious. I featured as many bunny pots as possible. Even sold a bunch: dinner pasta bowl, gravy tureen, covered casserole, two colanders. Weather was somewhat more cooperative than last week, or at least consistent. Grey overcast all day, chilly in the morning, but gradually warming up and actually showing a little sun by load-out. I felt safe leaving the walls off of the booth and putting my empty boxes behind, making for much more space behind the counter. Denise came down around noon again, and it was very helpful having her record sales while I wrapped and bagged and talked to the customers. Sales really good, though about a third off last week's spectacular total.

In slow moments, we amuse ourselves nominating "Hair of the Day" to particularly creative dye jobs. There were lots of candidates this weekend, but we had to go with "Feet of the Day" instead. This may be the most Eugene set of stompy boots I have ever seen.

why are there so many shoes about rainbows?

Had a couple of stressful moments in the morning. First, around 8:00, a vendor drove past the crowd at Info waiting for booth assignments, shouting that a white van was on fire in the parking lot.

Now a lot of folks I know, including several potters, have white vans: Wayne has a white van, Linda has a white van, I have a white van. I was ready to run for the Overpark to check when I realized the van in question was in the bank parking lot over across from West Block. Shannon, our newly confirmed General Manager, headed down with a fire extinguisher, but it wasn't enough. Pretty soon, a pumper truck was threading its way through the set-up crowds, horn and siren and lights going. It took a good half-hour to put out the fire, and the van was pretty much totaled. I later found out it belonged to my woodworker friend Dave; the fire marshal (who was onsite for booth inspections) told him it was probably an electrical fire that got out of control. When he opened the door to pop the hood, the backdraft cause flames to shoot up through the dashboard and up the inside of the windshield, at which point, nothing could have saved it.

One of the things the Fire Marshal was onsite for was a visit to the Courthouse Square, where the non-Saturday Market vendors set up, to start enforcing code requirements there. Apparently, one of the folks wasn't happy, and decided to blame us, so he came over to our side, shouting about the no-dogs requirement, saying it was a public space (it isn't on Saturdays--we pay good money to the city to rent the Park Blocks), we were phonies, were all in the pocket of The Man (beholden to Big Craft I guess?), and got into a shoving match with a Market staffer who tried to calm him down.

I missed the initial excitement, as I was over at the Farmer's Market, but I caught round two. He came back for more shouting, and eventually headed off down Oak Street, still audible two blocks away.

Sure glad I had these guys to hug...

Got a post card back in the mail, last week, marked undeliverable, from the batch I sent out late March for the start of Saturday Market. Eh, that's a thing that happens, though usually it takes less time to come back. I updated my mailing list and thought no more of it.

Then I got another returned card yesterday, for the same address. This one from Holiday Market, eight months ago. What gives?

Oh. Vida, Oregon. That makes sense.

Potters will often compare opening a kiln to Christmas morning.

This is not necessarily a good thing. Sure, there's the possibility the package contains brilliant, shiny wonders. There's also the possibility of socks. Or a horrible bunny onesie from the great aunt who still thinks you're three years old. (Obligatory A Christmas Story reference.) I always approach a kiln opening with my heart in my throat. This is particularly the case at this time of year, when the special orders are destined for other people's Christmas packages, and I desperately need stock for my Holiday Market booth.
picture me a very happy potter

I started the kiln cooling at 7:00 Thursday morning. Preliminary indications looked good: I could see iron spots in both the top and bottom peeps, a sign of consistent reduction. Top was a hair cool--I didn't quite drop cone 10 on carry-over heat. Fortunately, my glaze is pretty forgiving. Nine-and-three-quarters is still fine.

I was back and forth all day, alternating a dozen errands with slowly opening the kiln damper. By 4 pm, I could crack the door a couple of inches, enough to see pretty good color throughout, only one small swath of oxidation.

I came back after supper to pull the rest of the car out, and it's gorgeous. Special orders are particularly nice, but there's also a lot of stock for the booth--nearly forty tall mugs, a very cute koala pilsner, new plates, and a new form entirely: individual pasta service bowls. I've only got seven, but if they sell well at Market, I'll have to look into making them a regular thing.

It was a long grind, unloading, sorting, pricing and boxing. Denise had a Book Arts meeting, so I was working solo. I finally got the last box in the car at 11:15 pm. And so to Market for set-up, plus delivering mugs to the bakery, and packing and shipping orders... Friday looks as busy as Thursday was.

We'd just finished lunch. I was reading Twitter on my tablet; Denise was watching cat videos. I'd been vaguely aware of crackling sounds coming from the other room, so got up to check what the kitty was chewing on now--Tiki likes to gnaw on plastic bags.

But Tiki was lying quietly in the hallway. Flynn was asleep on the bed. And the sound seemed to be coming from the bathroom.

Outside the window, in fact. This is what I saw--but with flames.

I grabbed a jug of water from the kitchen and ran outside. Once I got there, I discovered that I was gonna need a lot more water. Struggled with getting the garden hose disconnected from the soaker, finally realized I was turning the wrong way, just as Denise arrived with the fire extinguisher from the studio. Shouted at her to turn on the water, and went and hosed everything down thoroughly. The fire had worked its way back into the corner, was beginning to lick at the shingles, and also the other direction, past the bathroom window. I hosed everything down twice, including the base of the building. Soaked it thoroughly.

At which point the smoke alarm inside the house went off.

What started it? As best as I can tell, the fire began on the left side, about three-quarters up the picture, and spread right, up and down, toward the house. What was sitting there?

This solar-powered lamp. I'm guessing sunlight through the glass chimney focused just right on the grass, and the wind took it from there.

Funny thing--I just mowed the backyard yesterday, before setting up Denise's papermaking station. I'm not sure if that helped or hindered. On the one hand, less fuel for the fire, and shorter, so less likely to jump to the house. On the other, I'm not sure if enough sunlight would have hit the lamp, with the weeds surrounding it.

But I'm really glad we were home at the time, and the bathroom window was open, and I--eventually--payed attention to what I was hearing.

This is not the kind of fire I'm used to dealing with.