I remember long ago in what seems like another life I had a big two chambered wood kiln that used to kick the living hell outta me. I would start the firing early in the morning before sun rise. I loved that time of the morning. The sound of an owl getting it's morning breakfast of a screaming rabbit. The sudden orchestra of birds and crackle of my early small campfire in the firebox. At the beginning of light my neighbour Clarence across the road would spot me. He religously came over with a warm toasted egg sandwich on Wonder Bread, a coffee and a Drum tobacco cigarette. I had long given up smoking ciggies except on the occassion of a wood firing. The smell of that morning is etched in my memory forever. The sandwich, the Drum tobacco and the wood smoke. I mentioned this to my neighbour Al. He was going to Holland the Land of Drum so what did he bring me home but a pouch of Drum? I'm going to have one at the beginning of David's firing. I'm going to have it for Clarence and for that memory. My Uncle Jimmie worked in the dark, wet coal mines of Northumberland at age 13. He remembered his grandmother bringing him a warm egg sandwich. The taste, the smell both etched in his memory. Here I am some 40 years later still in the hunt for that smell. The hunt is a good one. Clarence died of lung cancer. I guess I really never saw him without a ciggie in his mouth. Working people- the salt of the earth. I am attracted to them.
David Stuempfle's kiln Seagrove NC- as big as a small house
Two more full days of loading ahead.
The dreaded Drum. When I used to smoke it didn't hurt ya! har, har.


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