Ceramics Shopping and Sausage?

Janet wanted us to go to the Sanford Pottery Festival. Pottery Festival equals shopping. Hmmm I begrudgingly agreed to go. I really, really wanted to mow the yard and clean out the gutters that day, but it was just a sacrifice I was willing to make. I innocently mentioned that maybe we could get a bite to eat there. Janet told me she didnt think it was that type of festival. She was never a fan of greasy deep fried food served from a rusty portable kitchen on wheels, but that was the sacrifice she would have to be willing to make. Our love is an ongioing negotiation. The annual event occurs every May. The small town is located in the middle of the state in a sand rich area we like to call, the flatlands. With sparce public toliet opporatunities, we made it down in record time. I don't mind saying that I was more than a little excited to be driving through Siler City on our way down since it was referenced so fondley in the Andy Griffith Show. If our stay here in North Carolina has accomplished anything, which is still a matter of debate in our household, it has offered me the opportunities to explore many, if not all, of the little podunk towns ever referenced in that series. Siler City, bucket list, check. We read a big sign heading into Sanford that informed us that the festival was located at the Dennis A. Wicker Civic Center. Civic Center usually means food served from a cafeteria style window, in a sanitary building ,and the proceeds benefit the local Kiwanas Club. Mobile kitchen festival food opportunities looked slim. Janet looked relieved. We arrived to find the grounds surrounding the Dennis A. Wicker Civic Center were covered with large tents. I grinned. Tents equal corndogs, turkey legs and funnel cakes. We parked within a short walk and soon Janet busied herself with selecting various pieces of pottery to take home with her, I immediately excused my self to explore my, er, I mean our, lunch options. I was pleased to find several small white-ish trailers with colorful signs proclaiming such delicacies as funnel-cakes and grilled sausage sandwiches. It occurred to me that maybe I have been to harsh in my judgment of pottery festivals and went to find Janet so I could share my revelation with her. They have sausage. I found Janet in a nearby tent and she was looking at some beautiful vases. They have funnelcakes too. She continued to ignore my report. I decided I would join her and re-visit the subject later. We browsed around the various pottery tents. Each had its own unique collection of area potters and their work. I pulled out my camera and told Janet that I thought I’d like to get some photos of the interesting pottery and she explained to me that artist and potters really frown upon that. She has worked in and around galleries for many years and it seems that some people will photograph work with the intent of trying to replicate the design. Who would have thunk it?

The tent that interested me the most, non food related, was the one that let you glaze and fire your very own pottery. We gave it a try. When Janet and I finished painting/glazing our pots we had about an hour before our masterpieces would be fired. This gave us ample time to re-visit that sausage sandwich cart. How convenient. I finally hit pay-dirt. Janet had a soda.
We went back at the scheduled time to pick up our pots and could see them sitting and waiting to go into the portable kilns set up there. Finally after a few minutes we saw ours go in! Yay. Janet thought that meant more shopping, she didnt know that really meant it was funnel cake time. We discussed the meaning for a short while and decided neither was in our best interests. After a short wait we came back and stared at every kiln that was being unloaded and then we saw our fabulous pieces being taken from the fire. So exciting. They were glowing orange hot. The man behind the police taped area then put our pots into a trash can with some newspaper that immediately bursts into flames when he added it to the can. He slapped the lid on it quickly. After a short period of time he opened the smoky can and reached in and took each piece out and scrubbed it clean in water and we were done! They called this Raku.

So with a belly full of sausage and our very own pottery in hand we headed home. We drove home a different way. After a short visit to a local winery and a historic camel back bridge our day was done.

They say that all you have at the end of the day are your memories, and I might add, on occasion some pottery.