Feet of Clay
Aug. 23rd, 2006 11:38 pmFor the last days, Jörg and I have been busy digging out the house we live in and plastering the walls anew. Well, mostly Jörg has been doing that, and I have been up on ground level, making sure that in case all the earth we dug out and heaped up decided to turn into an avalanche there'd be someone - namely, me - to dig Jörg back out. That's my job; to keep watch, and to occasionally refill the plaster bucket and hand it down into the trench.
The house has been built on clay. That explains, of course, why it has to be re-plastered; the clay stores all the water that rains down practically forever - even after a dry summer like this one, the earth is soppy - and presses on the walls, and the house is a hundred years old, so the walls soak up the water happily, which in turn leads to interesting fungus cultures in the basement. And yes, it's actual real honest-to-whoever clay, the sort you make pottery from. Which is basically what I've been doing most of the time, because watching and waiting and occasionally handling buckets isn't too interesting. Pottery, and making up drabbles the beginning and ending of which I promptly forgot once I had the chance to, you know, write them down. Which is why they ended up being shite. Oh well.
I've been making two rather crooked bowls (briefly considered claiming we'd found them while digging, thus getting a swarm of archeologists to do the digging for us, but sadly realized that nobody would fall for that nowadays. Darn radiocarbon dating.), and a hedgehog while
ladyelleth was here (she made a little clay figure that was named Maedhros and promptly lost its entire right arm during the night O_o), and today, because I was feeling cocky, an elf.
Well, it was supposed to be an elf. It looks rather too crappy to be one. But I took pictures anyway, so you'll all believe that I'm living atop a few tons of potter's clay. Because this was made entirely from the stuff we dug out of the trench.
Well, I never said I was good at pottery.
... apparently, it's an American Indian elf. Wearing a Roman toga. Go figure.
He used to have a really nice ass originally, but that got lost somewhere during the reworkings. Alas.
*pathetic*
The house has been built on clay. That explains, of course, why it has to be re-plastered; the clay stores all the water that rains down practically forever - even after a dry summer like this one, the earth is soppy - and presses on the walls, and the house is a hundred years old, so the walls soak up the water happily, which in turn leads to interesting fungus cultures in the basement. And yes, it's actual real honest-to-whoever clay, the sort you make pottery from. Which is basically what I've been doing most of the time, because watching and waiting and occasionally handling buckets isn't too interesting. Pottery, and making up drabbles the beginning and ending of which I promptly forgot once I had the chance to, you know, write them down. Which is why they ended up being shite. Oh well.
I've been making two rather crooked bowls (briefly considered claiming we'd found them while digging, thus getting a swarm of archeologists to do the digging for us, but sadly realized that nobody would fall for that nowadays. Darn radiocarbon dating.), and a hedgehog while
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Well, it was supposed to be an elf. It looks rather too crappy to be one. But I took pictures anyway, so you'll all believe that I'm living atop a few tons of potter's clay. Because this was made entirely from the stuff we dug out of the trench.
Well, I never said I was good at pottery.
... apparently, it's an American Indian elf. Wearing a Roman toga. Go figure.
He used to have a really nice ass originally, but that got lost somewhere during the reworkings. Alas.
*pathetic*