I examine them closely, just like my homegrown judges did. Save me from visual acuity!
They are all small, deliberately, as there is only so much clay and time that I can afford to throw away.
This is the only one I like.
All were thrown at the same time with the same clay. Fired in the kiln at the same time. Glazed in the same manner on the same day, yet each one of them is different from the other.
9 are useable the rest are "poo pots."
One has a sharp shard from someone else’s explosion. One has two mysterious white spots from goodness knows where.
Three are on the pink side. Two are still pooish, brown and fatally dull. That leaves 4, only four and of that four, I only like one. How many bowls will I need to throw before I can make a set of four? It’s the kind of maths question that drove me quite dotty when I was small. Now I am big and I still have no answers.
On the other hand, some people's names just slot together like magic. A marriage made in heaven, or rather Ireland but lets not be picky. Happy Anniversary Anne and Ned!
If you enjoy caption competitions and photographs, you may wish to nip along to"DJ Kirkby" over at "Chez Aspie" and test your brain power.