Several years ago when sister, Mary, retired she decided to try her hand at potting--pots.
Jim took her seriously and built this lovely little one-room studio in their back yard to give her space and quiet. He also gave her a great view.
Mary proceeded to take classes, courses, and workshops and before long she was producing some first-rate pottery.
Led her to the following wonderful creations.
She says she sells every one of the leaf bowls that she makes. I talked her out of one for myself, which turned out to cause a little brouhaha in the airport at the end of our trip.
It was when we were headed for the security line in Honolulu that I suggested, to the young man pushing Aunt Louise in the wheelchair, that we tuck my carryon bag in the rack under the chair seat. He obliged but as we went through the X-ray sensors the security guard motioned for Aunt Louise to be searched. I sailed through and was standing at the conveyer belt when I tried to take my carryon bag off the belt.
The guard grabbed my hand and sternly stopped me, "Is that your bag?" He barked. "I thought it was hers." and he pointed to Aunt Louise who was being thoroughly patted down.
"No, the bag is mine," I confessed. I was hardly worried, it was chock full of dirty, smelly clothes.
The guard then called another agent over and motioned for me to be searched.
As soon as the TSA frisking was over I returned to the bag only to find the guard still holding it,
"We need to open this," he growled. "Don't you know that all sharp objects are supposed to be declared and placed on top of the bag!"
"What sharp objects? I think there are only dirty clothes in that bag." Then I remembered Mary's leaf bowl tucked safely in the middle of the soiled laundry. "Oh, and a bowl my sister made."
Whereupon he pulled out the leaf bowl with three sharp points.
"Hm," he said, "I see. And it's a really nice one too. Look at this bowl, George." And he turned to the guard next to him, and together, they admired Mary's handiwork before tucking it back in the bag.
Who knew that a bowl could be a dangerous weapon?
PS, Mary, don't forget I want a berry colander for Christmas--with no sharp edges.