As I prepare for my annual Christmas sale I came across a couple of pictures stowed away in a tote in the basement. The one was a painting my friend Dave McCowan did of me in my studio happily making pots on my kick wheel. In those days I made my own clay, made all pots on the kick wheel, cut and split dozens and dozens of cords of wood. My house on Tuesday nights was a place where the boys gathered. I would make supper for all and we would listen to rock and roll, tell lies, laugh a lot and share in each others good company. I used Dave's painting for my ad. Then I came across a picture of me and my buddies fishing in Espanola. My dad the original Smokie would rise early and cook on the wood stove eggs, home fries, pancakes, baked beans and of course a beer. We were fishing!
Tomorrow my mum would be 100. My parents were amazing people that always welcomed people into their homes. We had people come and stay for years. Families from England and Scotland that stayed until they could stand alone. The house was always full of people. Saturday morning breakfast table was a drop in centre. Breakfast couldn't start without Herb the milkman.
So this Saturday if ya have time drop by. There will be pots but a purchase isn't a requirement. I only request your company and your love that I have felt so much of in the past couple of years. I always wanted a home and not a house. I have one and I welcome y'all to it.
|Their will be teapots, bacon bowls, cups, and all sorts of pieces of me.|
|Ash laden bacon bowl handle|
|Me on the right.|