I've been having a bit of a hard time lately. Last week I got some medical news I'd hoped I wouldn't get. Nothing drastic or dreadful, but the sort that makes you realize that you'll be meeting your insurance deductible much sooner than you'd thought. And pottery is NOT going well. Because I need to meet that deductible, I tried to fire last night. This is the first oops. This is a platter for a dear friend that literally crumbled in my hands. And a half-dozen botanical dessert plates that went with it. They're on top of the first platter for said friend that broke in firing. Eerily reminiscent of that last thing that made me want to quit pottery. But I persevered and fired the smaller-than-I'd-hoped load.
As I'm unloading this morning, I'm finding that the early morning trimming and too-dry pieces are indeed cracked. I had to pitch 3 in the mosaic pile, and a 4th lost its handle as I was waxing the foot. Better to lose it in my hand than a customers, but. . . .
Despite the losses, I decided to get down to business. I was feeling really really sorry for myself. Poor Melissa. Stuff breaks. She has to work to earn money. Oh, life is so hard. Then the dogs and I hear a car in the drive. The car leaves. A 30 second stop. We go in to the front door to find a bag of homemade oatmeal-chocolate-butterscotch cookies hanging from the storm door.
So I'm not all alone, and I'm reminded of my gratitude lenten observance and am grateful that I have work to do, orders to fill, friends and family who love me, and the insight to pull my head out of that dark place, get my work done, and take my child to the children's museum to enjoy his summer. Thanks for the chance to reflect, and thanks for the cookies, unseen friend.