Just Chatter

I opened this particular blog to archive my 360 posts and then discovered that at this time that is not possible on Blogger. I transferred some significant ones about the studio progress which I thought I might need for litigation and a couple others that interested me. But with three other blogs do I really need this one I wonder.

And yet this morning after dedicating Profiles and Creative Journey to to Poetry Wednesday posts I found I just wanted to chatter like I used to do in the early days of Y360 when I just considered it my on line journal. I suppose I could be a nattering nabob on Sidetracked Charley but I seem to get derailed there with more purpose. And my thoughts today are not on anything political. They are on butter keepers and baking English Muffin bread later.

A long time pottery friend of mine makes these delightful ceramic butter keepers: You fill the container on the lid with butter and the bottom with cold water and it keeps your butter fresh and at spreadable temperature with no refrigeration. I spread some this morning on the last of the English Muffin toast and then topped it with slices of avocado. Yum.

Sandy and her husband, the potters, are getting up in age and it amazes me how well they do in setting up for fairs and taking down. I have known them for more than a dozen years and collected pieces of her pottery all that time. This year, out of boredom she says, she has exploded in a plethora of whimsical colors and themes after years of earth tones. My new butter keeper is sunny yellow and I bought a bowl in matching yellow and orange. I love ceramic mixing bowls especially for making bread.

As we broke down Sunday, Sandy gifted me with a platter that matched the bowl. I was so touched I almost cried. She gives me the chipped pieces so I can break them up and put them in a tea table I am planning on making. I want to have my potter friends represented. But the last two such pieces she has given me I cannot see the chips in. I am loathe to break them to pieces just yet. Every fair we are together I wonder if it will be this that is the last. None of us are getting any younger.

The platter and the bowl are in a place of honor for the moment. And I touch the butter keeper when I am in the kitchen even if there is not butter to be spread just then.