Doing All Right

 First things first. That's how the soup turned out last night. I served it (to myself) with some Greek yogurt and chili crisp and it was exactly what I wanted. I put so much lemon juice in it and the salad and some extra spinach and onions and garlic so you know it was good. If you like that sort of thing. That sort of Greek/Lebanese/Hippie thing. 
I believe it will be even better tonight. 

I got up at 7:00 this morning which is an ungodly hour in my opinion but it wasn't hard and I watched the entire video of how to make the bowl I was thinking of making again, knowing that I'd have to follow it in class too. You think you have something figured out and then you come to a step and wonder if the gap between the petals is this big or not that big, and when do you smooth out the base, and so on and so forth. At least that's how it works for me. If you have any interest at all in seeing what a pottery how-to video looks like, you can go HERE. I would definitely not watch the whole thing if I weren't actually making what the video is demonstrating. And trust me- if my bowl does indeed get to the finished state, it is not going to look a damn thing like the instructor's. 
The professionals make it look so easy. They have the touch, the knowledge, the experience, the tools. 
The talent.

But it was nice being back in class. I picked Jessie up. August had a little gastric distress last night and so Jessie wanted him to stay home today but she really didn't want to miss class. Vergil works from home so although he is NOT at anyone's beck and call while he's on the clock, he is there in case of emergencies and Jessie felt fine about leaving August home with Sophie and some books. 

And off we went. 

There were some familiar faces in the class. And some new faces, as well. One of the students looked like an athlete, maybe a swimmer, muscled and solid and tanned dark brown. A no-fooling-around type woman. She had on a cool apron and clothes that looked well-suited to the job. 
Of course I was completely intimidated. 
She hadn't been in a pottery studio in fifteen years but had spent a good amount of time in one in the years before that. So she felt unsure if things would come back to her or not. 
Another woman had never taken a pottery class and I think the third new person may have spent some time in a studio. 
So in the first class, the teacher always asks, "Who wants to work on the wheel?" and of course everyone does because that's the magic, right? Like Demi Moore in that movie with the ghost of Patrick Swayze holding her from behind as she throws a pot, her hands slick from the wet clay, the phallic vase rising in her hands between her bare thighs, her eyes closed in surrender to his embrace and the magic of the pottery wheel. 

Or something like that. And by the way, that whatever-it-is-she's-making is not going to turn out to be anything at all. Trust me. I know about these things. I don't know how to do it but I surely know what doesn't work and how that looks. 

But of course that's not what people really think about when they think of making bowls and vases and pots and so forth on the hypnotic wheel. However, when the teacher asks that question, everybody says, "Me! Me! I want to work on the wheel!"

I did it too. 

And so instruction on the wheel begins while the people who are already familiar with it are already sitting on those stools as those wheels spin and as easy as it looks in the hands of a skilled potter, it is not. 
I couldn't make a pot to save my life. Well, I sort of did but honestly, Gale the teacher mainly made it and even then it was pathetic. I'm talking about four sessions ago. Or was it five? 
Anyway, today's group was amazing. The woman who hadn't touched clay in fifteen years was throwing one bowl after another and even the two women who had no or very little experience were making very adequate little pots and I sat at the table where I was trying to hand build my flower bowl and wept inside my soul. 
Sigh.
But I was doing okay. I was indeed watching the video as I worked and I truly felt like I was paying attention and following instructions and then, suddenly, it was time to clean up and I was at a tricky point and so I started slapdashing, not sure if the clay will still be pliable enough to work with next week and oh, y'all. 
It's not going to be pretty. 

Jessie suddenly had the touch and the feel that she needed and made five pots! FIVE! They were lovely! I was so happy for her. 

And oh- I did find my glazed bowl that I made last session but never got back to collect and I am a little proud of it. 

I do not hate it. And I can actually use it to eat salad out of or a small serving of pasta or rice or, well, almost anything. 
It is colorful. 

Jessie had an MRI scheduled for after class and I volunteered to go hang out with August. I had a good time with him. I read him some more "Rascal" and then he taught me to play Mancala but after one game wherein I played so poorly that he realized I was never going to be enough of a challenge to make me a worthwhile opponent, I told him he could watch some TV. He'd barely gotten started before his mama came home. 

The boy does love to read. We talked about quite a few things including the odds of getting killed by a dog versus the odds of getting killed by a shark and other subjects of interest to a nine-year old, almost ten-year old boy. His mama had asked him to let the hens out of their coop and he did. 
Here are Dotty and Betty. 

Aren't they beautiful? They made my heart hurt a little, seeing them pecking about as chickens do, doing their sweet little dance. 

Mr. Moon has water again. A temporary electric line was put in and a new one will have to be put in and buried later. Not a big deal.
Last night he sent me this picture.

Pretty gorgeous. He told me he'd seen an eagle flying over the water with a fish. I know that was a thrilling sight. 

I also know he's a happy man. 

I think I'm going to eat my soup and go to bed early tonight. That sounds real good to me. 

Love...Ms. Moon