For me, Fall starts on a Saturday, about halfway through August.
I get up early on Saturdays. Have to, to get down to Saturday Market early enough. On an average Saturday, it takes me about a half-hour to set up the booth--roof, signs, shelves and stands. Booth weights, 25 lbs. per corner. (In the rainy season it's even longer, when I have to deal with booth walls as well.) Setting out the pots and organizing the restock and boxes is about another hour. And I want to get over to Farmers Market when they open at 9. So I leave the house at about quarter after 7. Which means the alarm clock goes off at 6:50 am.
The third Saturday in August, it's still dark.
It's easy to pretend, that summer is eternal. It's still sunny and warm, no rain on the horizon just yet. But the dark is creeping up, inexorably.
Of course, I've also been working for my fall shows. The Clay Fest poster and postcards went to press at the end of July. Clayfolk's first ad deadline is September 1. And of course, I need work to sell at these shows, particularly as the summer has been very successful.
So I spent last week glazing and decorating, loaded the kiln yesterday. I'll have new work by Labor Day weekend, some of which, hopefully, will still last until Clay Fest. Meanwhile, I'll start throwing for Clayfolk, aiming for an October firing, immediately after which, it's production for Holiday Market.
So you see why Fall starts so soon for me--it's a slalom race to Christmas.
Which means, if you want to order something special for Christmas, start thinking about it now, and contact me with your order no later than September 30.
Pottery Shows!
The squirrels are going nuts again.
The city of Eugene planted red oak trees all along the boulevard between our sidewalk and the street. And my back-fence neighbor, Bob, has an enormous walnut tree. So we're watching them scamper along the fence, scramble up the trees, bury treasure in the lawn. Every spring, I'm pulling up red oak saplings pretty much everywhere around the house. There's also two walnut wannabes in unfortunate locations that I just can't seem to uproot, and for a while, we had a filbert bush growing up from under the rain barrel. No idea where they got that particular nut to plant, but it didn't survive last summer's siding crew.
So yeah, they're pests. But entertaining to watch, both to us and the house cats. And if I have to collect one out of River Road and give it last rights, heck, I make some more paintbrushes.
And paint them on my pottery.
The original version is a rutile-gold adult that's been appearing on soup bowls and painted mugs for decades now. More recently, I found a photo of a grey-and-buff baby squirrel in a photoset online, and she's been appearing on pie plates, dessert plates, tall mugs and tumblers.
Painted, appropriately enough, with squirrel-tail brushes.