Holiday Sale

Shelves full of newly-fired pottery ready for opening day of the sale.
Cobscook Pottery & Fiber Arts
Annual Holiday Sale
November 12-14, 2010

Small bowls that cradle nicely in the hand.
$20

Mead Mug
(Works well for hot cocoa or coffee too!)
$32

Sake Set
$65

Lidded Jar
$115

Large pasta bowl.
$45

Yes. It is that time of year again. The turkey hasn't even made it out of the oven but we are already thinking jingle bells and decorated trees. This weekend is the annual Holiday Sale at Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts, and even though it has been warm, clear skies and not a stitch of snow, the sounds of Ella singing "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" can be heard from the shop.

It's always an enjoyable weekend for me. I get to visit with lots of local friends and show off the season's new wares. It is also tradition for my sister, who is the designer of the fabulous "Indigo Iris" jewelry, to visit for the weekend. In between customers, we've been able to hang out and do "catch-up" on our lives. I have also been able to fit in a bit of encaustic painting here and there. That's definitely a bonus!

Last night we celebrated work-done-well with an evening out at the Water Street Tavern and Inn. It felt good to just relax and breathe a bit, and prepare for the final day of sale, which is today. We'll still be open by chance or appointment until December 23rd, but if you are able to catch the sale in-person today, you'll get to partake of the tasty homemade cookies and cocoa! Not to mention, we are raffling off two $25 gift certificates! One was drawn last night and the happy winner is returning today for some shopping fun "on-the-house".

I need to prep, so this is a quick blog entry. I do have a poem to share, though. It was an honor to receive this worded gift by email from phenomenal writer and amazing woman Pam Brown, who is currently in California compliments of a fellowship to work on a new book. It is such an honor to make an appearance in one of her poems, especially alongside pomegranates. Thanks, Pam!
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Pomegrenade

for Shanna

Under the glamorous San Gabriels

rosy with randy sun,

this parking lot is lousy with pomegranates.

They look at me with Alhambra in their hearts –

I wish I could give Shanna a ticket to Spain.

I can't steal one, there are too many --

like this one, small though perfect

or that one, split, past its prime

or those gnawed-out black mouths

such mocking fruit

bobbing in the hot wind looking like

hand grenades something red

hot blood straining to split

the world

eros tyrannos you come

on all four legs (Sappho said)

to eat greedily and with

tearful thighs . . .

ignore them get in the Subaru

swan up the foothills

in the sheer joy of wasteful

pterodactyl

delusions