Joss' Blog

In this Blog, I like to share what's going on in my world of making pots. I update it whenever I think there's something which may be of interest: there may be times when I am adding to it daily; sometimes I can't think of anything worth saying for months. I hope it gives you a flavour of what goes on in the average day of a working potter...


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3rd September 2010

Well, the madness of August is now over. As visitor numbers reached their peak over the Bank Holiday, and the kids have now returned to school, a sense of normality has gently descended again.

Today it was brought to my attention just how distracted you can get when you're busy: as many of you know, I have chickens mooching about the yard at Powdermills. As I let them out in the morning a few days ago, I noticed that a couple of girls had turned broody and were settling in to sit on eggs. Must get those eggs out from under them, thought I, as I don't want an extended flock. Well, this morning it became plain that I first thought this not a few days ago, but three weeks ago; for, as I opened the door, what should come out looking all mumsy and everso proud of themselves, but three hens each with an entourage of chicks. Blast. I wonder what other tasks have gone undone for too long during August?

I have noticed another strange phenomenon that has occurred over Summer - I have grown finger-nails. This is an indication of how long it is since I have been in the workshop (a potter's wheel is a very efficient device for shaving nails back to the quick). It made me think that if the summer season has been in swing long enough for me to reach for the nail-clippers, it must equally mean that the transition into the Autumn can not be far away. I have to admit this got me skipping across the yard from the shop to the workshop clearing down wheel, benches and shelves in anticipation of playing with clay, even though the starting line is a couple of months away yet. There's lots to be prepared beforehand, and lists of tasks are being written: mend kiln, stock up on clay, grind river-gravel, sieve wood-ash.... As activities in the shop and cream tea kitchen slowly start to fade over the next 6 weeks, I shall start to weave these tasks in, so that it's all systems go once I get back on the wheel in November.

Last winter, I started a journey into the art of making the teapot... this year it's the storage jar, but I'm sure I'll bore you with more of that in later entries...

24th August 2010

Only at sea have I ever lived so close to the weather as I do here. Living on an exposed spot of Dartmoor such as Powdermills, you soon learn to become obsessed with the weather: constantly scouring favourite weather forecasting websites to find out: How strong the wind? From which direction? How much horizontal rain will there be? Or, depending on the season, Will snows come....? Whatever the type of weather we get, it's pretty extreme, and has a big impact on your day. You soon learn that you cannot battle against it, you have to bend and go with it.

Tomorrow we are forecast a bit of a stiff breeze - 50mph southerlies, the most destructive direction for Powdermills. So, we thought it prudent to batten down anything that can move, and take the canvas down from the tea marquee, rather than deal with the consequences after the event. It was when Martin was nearly knocked flying by canvas suddenly caught in the mere 25mph gusts we have this morning that I remembered being here before - taking sails down whilst standing on the roller-coaster that is a yacht on stormy waves. Mmmm, I miss all that.

What with the pea-soup mists of the last few days, and the gales due for the rest of the week, it would seem that October weather can now be expected in late August. It's certainly been that way for the last three years, as about this time the marquee has twice been swept away. Originally, the decision was made that the marquee would go up at the beginning of June, and come down before the end of September: that way, it only stood when the weather could be expected to be fine. It would seem that this reasoning needs to be re-assessed.

When new neighbours move nearby, I find they will either stay for two years, or at least two generations. As we drive by just a few weeks after the 'sold' sign has gone, you can watch the struggle that we all go through when you first start living with the moor's 'special' weather. At first, you may see hanging baskets arrive, or pots of colourful pansies, to make this granite place look pretty. At that point we don't yet understand what the moor can do. After a number of incidences of them being swept into a heap on one side of the yard, either the hanging baskets go as new residents learn that Mother Nature is very much in charge 'round here, or they resign, and the 'for sale' sign goes back up. It's wild, and breath-takingly powerful this moor, but, understandably, living with that power isn't everyone's cup of tea.

Incidentally, if ever you need to know the short-range forecast for weather on the high moor, I can recommend Metcheck. click here to take a look. Don't bother with the BBC or Met office forecasts for Devon - what happens down in the Devon lowlands bears very little relevance to the micro-climate of the moor.

22nd August 2010

Jess has slowly been moving out of the workshop and kiln yard over the last few weeks, as her three years at Powdermills are drawing to a close. Today saw the kiln shed dismantled: it's going to a good home, as Darren, apprentice potter to Lisa Hammond at Kigbeare Studios just outside Okehampton, has purchased it. The image alongside shows Darren taking the roof sheets off, and Phil supervising from behind his cuppa! They numbered each sheet and piece of timber, took photos and drew diagrams - but, like all flat packs, once it is re-erected at Kigbeare, no doubt there will be a bit missing and three bits left over that no-one can identify a use for. Blimey, they worked hard, and as they drove off with a van-load of kiln-shed bits, nearly everyone was happy: I've now got a wonderfully empty yard which I have already mentally filled; Jess has cash; and Darren has a shed. Not sure what Phil got out of it, though: he must just be a very nice man!

If you would like to know more about the kiln-shed's new home, click here for a look at the Kigbeare Studios website.

8th August 2010

It's back! The marquee which took a Dorothy-style flight out of the pottery yard into the kiln yard last month went back up today. Remarkably undamaged, hopefully it can, once again, act as a sunshade to protect my tea-drinking customers from the August beating sun, and not as a shelter against rain and gales as it has had to do in recent years.

August also sees the last month of Jess' three years at Powdermills. Originally, Jess came here to undertake a six week summer work experience placement, having completed her ceramics course at Plymouth College of Art and Design. In the last three years she has further developed those skills, working with the Powdermills methods of throwing, wood-firing and using 'found' materials to make glazes. Now the time has come for her to fledge and fly the next step on her personal pottery journey. Watch this space for another blog entry to mark her leaving later in the month.

The magic cement which can withstand temperatures up to 1600c (known as castable) arrived a couple of days ago. So, with alarm at how days fly when you must complete a task to deadline, I can now start work on my kiln. I'm still vascillating between a rebuild and repair, but I shall have to make my mind up before starting work in the next few days....!

16th July 2010

Ironic, isn't it. A couple of weeks ago the Planning Officer from the Dartmoor National Park Authority visited: he inspected the marquee in which cream teas are served, to decide how temporary a structure it was and whether it complied to regulation. Well, this was the scene last night, when it was a tad windy You see that marquee sitting on top of the bank behind Jess' kiln shed? Well that's usually sitting in the front yard. Can't get much more temporary than that can you?

It must have been a scene straight out of the Wizard of Oz, because it seems to have lifted, flown without losing it's shape, and landed on its feet. It's a shame it caught the top of the kiln chimney, not least because it has caused damage, but also because it would have been fun if it had landed in the next door newtake. I am sure the cows would have appreciated a bit of extra field shelter.

With a bit of scampering around in the calmer hours of this morning, it was business as usual by opening time. And the marquee is less damage than the drama of the moment would suggest, so it'll be up again in the next few days.

13th July 2010

Today, work started on my ailing kiln. This morning, trowel in had, I was still swinging indecisively between attempting a repair, or a complete re-build: so much of Margory is right, it seems such a waste of effort to take a kiln down, then make another one in her image on exactly the same spot.

Once I took the outer cob off her spine, I could see the weakness in the brickwork around the key-stone. The more I revealed, the more I realised it's gonna have to be a re-build. 'Confidence' is the key word, thought I, confidence that the kiln won't cave in at a top temperature of 1350c. So, I took the rest of the outer cob. It was rather nice to see the brickwork again. As I said, so much of Margory is right.

I found it quite a debilitating thought - to be a potter without a kiln for a while. And, worryingly, it will be quite a while: this re-build will have to be knitted in between kids at home for the summer holidays, and visitors to the pottery reaching the highest numbers as we approach the busiest part of the season. Got to get it completed before the end of the summer, so that I don't eat into my autumn and winter pot-making period, which is all too short at the best of times.

Mind you, rebuilding the kiln will give me something to blog about....

23rd June 2010

Over the last few days, I have basked in relief: the deadline for making the replica Trevisker pot has been met (all I've got to do is deliver it on exhibition setting-up day without tripping up the steps to Princetown DNPA centre). I've spent the last few days putting right domestic and administration duties that have been ignored whilst I have been concentrating on being a bronze age potter, and today my thoughts returned to the 21st century world of clay.

I sat down in the glorious sunshine this morning, coffee at hand, with pad and pencil. I've always been a list maker and a back-of-an-envelope planner. Not that I ever look at the plan again, it just seems to sort my head out. As usual, the plan told me that in order to complete all the tasks required before the end of the summer, I should have started 12 weeks ago. After a bit of prioritising, and with a worried eye on the fact that the kids will be off school in a shrinking number of weeks, decided that by the end of July, I must have repaired or rebuilt Margory, my kiln.

Those of you who follow this blog will know that before Christmas I realised, due to a mistake in my design of the key-stone, the roof of the kiln was moving.... heading for a collapse. I bodged a repair in order to fire before Easter in readiness for the main selling season, but it would be fool-hardy to do so again. So, repair or rebuild is the order of the day.

In a no-nonsense mood, I decided that the quickest approach in the long run would be to take Margory down completely, and do a total re-build. After all. there's no point in faffing about trying to repair the archway, is there? I would have to support Margory's archway whilst removing the keystone which holds it up, then re-build the key-stone and the bricks around it. It's bound to collapse mid-work, and end up as a complete re-build anyway, isn't it? ...... So why am I tempted?

4th June 2010

Something I love about Dartmoor, is the independence of the people who live here. In the snowy times, down lanes the Highways Agency don't know exist, it is more often than not a local farmer with a tractor clearing the snow and ice. If there's a road accident of the Hairy Hands bridge, the scene is usually cleared, and the injured transported where needed, in a time which (with the notable exception of the wonderful air ambulance) the emergency services couldn't match. No form-filling in triplicate, unravelling of cordoning-off tape, or compliance to regulation: it is just quietly sorted. It is a community that calls on each other first.... I'm not claiming that we are free of grumpy gits - I can think of one or two - but even they will help out if prodded sufficiently.

Today, I must thank our neighbour, Chris, for cheerfully being called upon to help an ailing customer who had ditched his hire car off the side of the pottery drive. In fifteen minutes, with the use of the winch on his trusty Landy, the car was out with no damage, except, possibly, to the driver's pride.

The whole spectacle provided exciting entertainment for those sitting in the front yard having cream teas this afternoon - all of whom, conveniently for me, were trapped at the pottery until the drive was cleared! Always a silver lining.....!

31st May 2010

Last night, the marquee was erected in the pottery front yard, ready to shade our customers from the beating summer heat whilst they partake of a cream tea. At least, that's what I hope - over the last three years, it has more often provided cover against the monsoon. As a timely reminder of this fact, I had to delay putting it up by a couple of days, as 40mph winds were forecast.

As you can see from the photo, once the all clear was given from the weather forecasters, the whole family got involved in getting the canvas up. And today, with the front yard looking properly dressed and prettified, we welcomed in June and the main summer season.

Our customers today were treated to some impromptu street entertainment, as a violinist set up his stall to busk..... the accompanying singing dog went down a storm.

22nd May 2010

As those of you who follow the Trevisker project diary will know, I hope to fire a replica Bronze Age cooking pot in a bonfire sometime in the next few days. To do this, I am going to build a structure (it would be a stretch to call it a 'kiln') out of turf. Building the kiln, no problem. Cutting the turf, daunts me. So, I must say a big 'thank you' to our neighbour, Sam, seen here, who spent a couple of hours this afternoon, digging up the patch of land loosely known as 'the garden' into turf squares.

My poor kids, another sacrifice to the demon, pottery. I promised faithfully to restore the grass when the turf-mound is finished with. That didn't seem to impress. So our negotiations stretched to a promise of a new climbing frame before the school summer holidays start. I got the impression I could dig up the garden, the yard and anywhere else that took my fancy for that ..... expensive bit of equipment, a turf 'kiln'.

This weekend has brought the first warm, sunny days of 2010. Magic stuff, sunshine. It brings smiles, the ability to sit about and relax for longer than you would usually allow yourself, and a brighter outlook on life. I hope it's here to stay for a while.....

17th May 2010

Last weekend saw the last of the spring throwing courses here at Powdermills, and what a bunch of throwing-demons the four of them were! They made so many pots, I had a job to keep up the clay supply.... and it wasn't just quantity, it was quality too; each of them made huge leaps in their skills. (The bottle of red wine Riccardo brought in for lunch on the second day definitely helped). They came as complete beginners, but I feel that they each got well and truly bitten by the pottery bug.

This week's task is to update the website to take account of the fact that the on-line shop has now closed, and I am taking the opportunity to change some of the photos and words on each of the pages. Hope you like it.

5th May 2010

It's beginning to get crowded up here at Powdermills: the swallows have now returned in their numbers and are demonstrating some awe-inspiring acrobatics around the yard; the cuckoo (a bird which, until I moved here, I thought only existed in swiss clocks) has taken residence in the ruins of the powder mills; jackdaws are nesting in the shop roof; and the cows are returning to the newtakes around the pottery, coming up from the lowland farms. The moor is littered with foals, calves and lambs... and there are a few human visitors arriving too. We've had a little rain, so the grass and vegetation is beginning to start its spring growth-spurt at last, and I am contemplatiing dusting off the strimmer.

All we need now is a few more degrees of warmth. Cream teas, having started serving earlier in the year than in previous years, are in full flow. However, most days, customers are still snuggling in by the woodburner rather than sitting out in the yard whilst they sup.

In the workshop, in between customers, work progresses on the making of a replica bronze age pot (see the Trevisker Project diary), and I am contemplating how I am going to approach re-building the roof of Margory, my kiln, this summer. Plus, there is next week's throwing course to prepare for.... no peace for the wicked.

On-line Store at Powdermills to Close

Last month heralded the end of a tax year, which is one of the times of year I am forced to grapple with the pottery's accounts. I try to remember all those 'accounts analysis' tools described to me at a training course I fell asleep at a couple of years ago, and undertake a financial review of business. I had to take my socks off to do the maths, but, after much head-scratching, I have decided to close the Powdermills on-line shop.

So, this is your last chance, folks... at midnight on Friday 14th May the on-line store will disappear! The sad thing is, I won't see so much of Alfie, the courier company driver who collects parcels this end for delivery to our customers. Ah, well, he'll just have to pop in for a cuppa when he is passing on a slow day.

The actual shop at Powdermills (as opposed to the virtual shop on this website) awaits your visit, though - do pop in and see us whenever life brings you to Dartmoor....

21st April 2010

The Dartmoor paparazzi came to Powdermills this morning. Here you see Mike and Kerenza from the National Park Authority setting up their video camera and fluffy microphone, but also hiding out of shot were Sue, editor of Dartmoor Magazine, and Paul, editor of Dartmoor News, pointing their cameras at me, too. For a minute there I felt like Michaela Strachan.

Sadly, all this attention wasn't really for me, it centred on the fact that, (as those of you following the Trevisker Project diary on this website will already know), I have been asked to make a replica bronze age pot. Mike and Kerenza have decided to make a video explaining how the pot is being made. So, we went down to the nearby Cherrybrook stream to film collecting river gravel, as part of explaining how the clay has been made. Sue and Paul were taking photos to support magazine articles that will be published to coincide with the exhibition's launch in the summer.

So, now that I've had a taste of the glory, I'd better get on the make the replica pot..... no pressure...

19th April 2010

Well, it's official, all the pieces of the rural idyll are now in place. This is the first swallow I've seen return to Powdermills - a real step forwards Summer. Clearly this little fella wasn't perturbed by volcanic ash when making his way through the skies from northern Spain....

18th April 2010

It's always like this on Dartmoor, y'know, blue skies and sunshine, dining al fresco... all that was missing this weekend to complete the picture of a rural idyll were a few swallows swooping around in the background. I'm looking out for them, but they haven't returned yet. However, these four were not here to soak up the scenery, they were at Powdermills for the first of this year's Throwing courses.

And work they did - tackling the frustrations of centring; throwing cylinders and bowl shapes on the wheel; then solving the mysteries of pulling handles and turning footrings. I hope they all left here with some new skills under their belts, that three of them will return to college with renewed enthusiasm for throwing, and one hospital doctor can face her Monday shift fully refreshed....

Good Friday 2010

Today, we started our Summer opening hours: not only is the pottery shop now open every day until October Half Term, but we are also serving cream teas on each of those days.

Here you see our very first Cream Tea customers of 2010 - Merran and Carl, on holiday from Australia. They popped in to experience a traditional Devonshire cream tea, and, as they are also keen pottery enthusiasts, took the chance to talk clay and look at Margory, my kiln. As the weather was not conducive to sitting out in our front yard and soaking up the view, they cosied up inside by the wood-burner and soaked up the handiwork of thirty Dartmoor craft-makers instead.

And so I made it to the beginning of the main season: food hygiene procedures updated and complied to; book-keeping up to date and ready for the end of tax year; pots made and on the shelf; roller-skates oiled and primed for the busy days. Now I can relax, and have the fun of meeting the folks who drop into Powdermills during their visit to Dartmoor. I hope you get a chance to pop in and see us in person, too.....

30th March 2010

Now that the firing of pots is complete, and they are on the shelves ready for Easter and the beginning of the summer season, I have grabbed the chance to work on the making of the replica Bronze Age cooking-pot. If you would like to follow progress, click on 'Trevisker Project' in the menu on the left had side of your screen.

18th March 2010

Regular readers of this blog may remember that back in the Summer of 2009, Google StreetView visited Powdermills. The resulting images have just gone on-line - fab picture of the dog! We are such creatures of habit, I can tell that the images were taken at about one o'clock, because our neighbour Chris had joined us in the Cream Tea Marquee, and he usually visits at lunchtime.

The absolute piece de resistance of Google's images, is the view taken of Powdermills from the top of the drive. If you would like to see why, click here, choose Satellite images, and pop in our postcode (PL20 6SP). If you then drag the little orange man to the top of our drive, and turn him to face Powdermills..... well, you couldn't make it up - they've caught us under the arc of a rainbow. While you're there, bring the little orange man down the drive and have a wander around at our invitation...

14th March 2010

Today Margory had cooled to about 30c, so it was time to unbrick her, crawl in, and find out the outcome of last five months of effort. To me, a fired, bricked up kiln is like a Christmas present ... full of potential excitement for as long as it still wrapped up. The summer's income rests on the contents of this kiln, so, standing by Margory this morning, about to unbrick the front door and look in for the first time, was quite a tense moment. All the possible disasters went through my mind. I knew the kiln had been very wet (the snows of winter had thawed right onto her) and with that came the risk of damp pots cracking; I knew we had had difficulties during the firing getting the middle of the kiln up to temperature, and that would affect the colour of the pots. I just had to get in there and see....

As it turned out, it was okay. I can't say that every pot in the firing came out with the colours and textures I crave - firings like that are rare wonders - but I have unpacked a kilnful of saleable pots.

When I pack pots into the kiln, they have no decoration on their outside surfaces at all: no glassy glaze, no colours, no painted patterns, just bare clay. When firing Margory, it's not just temperature you are striving to achieve as you stoke wood into her, the colours and textures of the finished pots are also made in the firing. How the pots will look when you unpack is down to things like: how you pack the pots; how long you fire for; how much soot you make; how much air you let in; how hot they get.... And all these things need opposing conditions: to reach a hot enough temperature you need to let air in, but to get the colour of clay you want you have to starve the kiln of air. All these things are spinning in your mind whilst feeding Margory with wood, and trying to make decisions on minimal sleep.

I knew that in the long and difficult hours spent trying to get the middle of the kiln up to temperature, I had had to let air in through the front pots. So, as I unbricked the front door to the kiln, I was expecting different colours in each of these stacks. And that's exactly what I got. If you look at the four pots in the photo below, you can see the difference something as simple as air can make. All the pots reached the same temperature, all had about the same amount of wood ash and soot impacting on them, but look at the colour of the clay. The ones of the left were in the front stack, got more air, and are brown: the ones on the right were in the middle, got restricted amounts of air, and are red. How ecstatic would I be if they all came out red.

Some of the pots I made for this firing, had river gravel added to the clay before I threw the pot, and I'm really pleased with the effect: they have a gnarly, earthy texture that somehow suits the fact that were made on Dartmoor. And the teapots that I made before Christmas have come out okay, too.

And so with this unpacking, the Winter season at Powdermills draws to a close. Over the next week these pots will be priced and displayed. Most of the other craft-makers who sell work here are delivering new stock. The focus turns away from the pottery workshop, and towards shop activities, and the beginning of the cream tea season. There's the end of tax year to keep me occupied in the evenings, and then there's that replica bronze age pot I've got to make. Never a dull moment...

11th March 2010

Well, that has to be one of the most difficult and perplexing firings I've done with Margory. She's sealed up now, and left to cool for a week, and I'm not sure if I'm looking forward to unpacking her.

To cut a long story short, pots are packed into Margory in three stacks - front, middle and back. We managed to get the front and back stacks up to temperature (1350c), but, despite trying every conceivable combination of wood, air and attitude, couldn't get the middle stack above 1280c. I don't entirely understand how that's possible, so I'm at a loss as to what to do differently next time.

The good news is, the kiln is still standing. You may remember that I had to decide whether to bodge a repair to the kiln, or completely re-build before firing. I went for the bodge job, and from the outside at least, it appears to have done the job.

Ah well, I'm off for a bath and to brillo-pad the soot off. The photo, by the way, is of Judith, dancing the stoking tango with Margory early on Wednesday morning....

Also 8th March 2010

It doesn't matter how much smoke billows forth from Margory's chimney, I can't compete with those hill farmers. They must be swaling - improving their grazing on the commons by burning off some of that useless shrub, gorse. And their smoke is definitely bigger than mine...

8th March 2010

There is very little that is high-tech about the way I fire pots: it is esssentially a case of lighting bonfires and keeping them stoked with wood until a high enough temperature is reached. The only bit of equipment requiring new-fangled electrickery to work is the pyrometer, which gives a digital read-out of the temperature in the kiln.

All was fine, until it decided to stop working, and a change of battery made no difference. How odd. As chance would have it, I had brought it into the kitchen with the intention of taking the back off for a good-old rootle around the wiring, but got distracted: when I went back to it, it was working again. How odd. Then I realised.... it was cold, poor thing, and it had needed a warm up next to the Rayburn. I told it to get a grip, after all it was only -4c overnight (well, -8c if inanimate objects can feel wind chill), and knowing the temperature in the kitchen was of no use to me.

And so the electronic kit gets two scarves and a balaclava to keep it warm (held together, as with most things on Dartmoor, with a bit of baler twine).... let's hope the crew is made of sterner stuff....

5th March 2010

Well, that's the long mud and water stages over, next comes fire and air. The kiln is packed full of pots, newly-covered with an insulating cob, bricked up and full of potential. I shall play a little gas candle into the kiln over the weekend to help drive off any moisture which inevitably gets in on the air, and the fires will be lit on Sunday night for the pot-cooking to begin.

The plan is to complete the firing around Thursday lunchtime, but wood-firings can be unpredictable. I liken it to sailing a yacht - you can learn techniques to work with the wind and tide in order to get where you want to go, but you never forget that mother nature is always stronger than you. It only takes one of Powdermills' characteristically strong winds, or a downpour, and the fires falter: just one wrong decision from an over-tired potter about how much wood or air to put in, and the temperature starts to go the wrong way. Here's hoping the gods are smiling on us.

This kind of firing can not be done alone: there has to be a team of you feeding wood every ten minutes into the kiln, for 85 hours. I am fortunate to have fab neighbours: the girls of Powdermills (Judith, Hannah, Jess ) will be joined by the boys of Spirit of Adventure (John, Sandy, Tim and Steve), each taking a four hour shift to allow me sleeping times. Plus the ever important backstage support of Martin, who steps up to the mark as I abandon any interest in child-care responsibilities for the next week.

Over the next couple of days I shall be forcing myself to slob on the sofa for as many hours as I can manage - it'll be difficult, of course, but I shall tell myself that it is my duty to prepare for the long night shifts next week....

1st March 2010

I will be having one or three gin and tonics tonight, to celebrate the fact that I have finally finished packing Margory - all fifteen foot of her. I have been uncharacteristically patient this week, and I feel I deserve a treat.

Limiting the pottery shop's opening hours during the last four months has allowed me to make more pots than I normally would over the winter.... but not enough to fill the kiln twice. So, as I will only get one firing in before Easter, I decided to get as many pots as possible into Margory. It's the tightest I've ever packed her. I think a tight pack will help with trying to limit the amount of air that moves through the kiln as I fire (I aim for a 'reduction firing', one with limited oxygen going in at key stages), but the downside will be that it also limits the flow of flame along the kiln-tunnel. This means that when the pots at the front of the kiln have reached temperature, I expect the ones in the middle and back of the tunnel will be a long way behind. I must prepare myself for the need for yet more patience, and much side-stoking in the later stages.

The major task for the next few days will be taking the kiln's outside covering of cob off, and replacing it with a new coat of clay and straw mix. Taking the cob off won't be much of a job - thanks to all the freeze/thaw of the last few months, and a few tap-dancing hens who have taken to roosting on her, most of it has already fallen off. Poor old Margory, she looks a sorry state. Putting the new cob layer on is an extremely messy job, made very unpleasant by the fact that the clay will be unbearably cold to work with. I really must find a way of moving to the Med, where wood-piles stay dry, workshops need to be cooled, and firings occur in a dry breezy climate..... That would be too easy, wouldn't it?

22nd February 2010

Easter, when the pottery shop begins to open seven days a week, and cream teas are served daily, is now only 6 weeks away. The focus of my days has therefore become the need to fire all the pots I've made over the winter, and get them displayed on the shelves.

I spent today beginning to fill my kiln with pots of all shapes and sizes in preparation for firing her during the week of 8th March. Packing the kiln requires the love of spatial puzzles, patience, calmness, attention to detail, a lack of need to see quick results in order to keep yourself motivated, and a flexible, bendy body. I think I've listed most of the characteristics that none of my friends or family would attribute to me. And the kiln, Margory, is so big, I shall be packing all week (sigh). When I feel the prickly heat of frustration rising, or the heavy treacle of boredom seeping into my brain, I remember words a wise potter once said to me: "Stop looking at them as pots, Joss - look at them and see rows of £5 notes..." (Nic Collins, circa 1999). I find it somewhat focuses the mind, especially as the yield from this firing represents a good number of months' income....

The timing of the firing feels just about spot on, for just as I unpack the kiln, it'll be Spring Equinox - the end of Winter, and the beginning of Spring. I love working in line with the seasons: Like a tree whose sap returned to its roots, I spent the dark months beavering quietly away in my workshop hardly seeing a soul; and now, just as the number of daylight hours start to overtake the number of dark ones and little bits of green arrive, pots emerge from the kiln and the pottery starts to show its first hopeful shoots of growth for 2010 ...... Shame I was born too late, I'd have made a good hippy......

15th February 2010

I have just added an entry to the Trevisker Project Diary (select from the left hand menu if you would like to take a look). It's the first day of half term, and I am still standing here in my pyjamas, far too late in the morning. The kids (breakfasted, dressed, hands on hips and tapping their feet impatiently) are beginning to complain about the lack of attention. I can see this project is going to be all too absorbing.....

12th February 2010

My mate Mike Nendick from the Dartmoor National Park Authority popped in the other day, bringing rather exciting news. The Royal Albert Museum, Exeter, is bringing an exhibition on the Bronze Age to the High Moorland Visitor Centre in the summer, and he asked if I would be interested in making a replica Bronze Age pot to be included in the exhibits. I could feel the ends of my finger-tips tingling as soon as he got to the end of his sentence. This is right up my alley - clay dug out of the ground, a pot formed using primitive technology, and clamp firing - seriously low technology and requiring huge understanding in order to fire a pot without it cracking.

It is hard to live and work on Dartmoor, and not be constantly aware of prehistoric man: you seem to trip over hut circles, stone rows, cairns and reaves whenever walking. And it's not just the factual evidence (it's difficult to explain in words without sounding like you've tie-died your clothing and grown dreadlocks, Totnes-style): the presence of Bronze Age man is still very loud - like a low beat of a drum in the background - as if the moor still belongs to them, and we are simply passing through. For some it's quite sinister, for others it's a constant source of inspiration (local musicians Nigel Shaw and Carolyn Hillyer spring to mind).

So, needless to say, I said 'Yes'. It's going to be a long journey, learning how such a pot was made, worthy of it's very own Blog. So, I've added the Trevisker Project to this website's menu, and I shall be updating on progress there.

Whenever I watch Time Team, I am usually scornful of how they take a pot shard as big as your finger-nail, and, using graphics, create a full 3D image of the complete pot around it. Bloody clever how they extrapolate all that detail from such a tiny find, think I. And here I am on the brink of understanding how that can be done....

9th February 2010

Mothers, if your daughter comes home one day and announces that she would like to be a potter, do not assume that she will be learning to paint dainty rosebuds onto fine porcelain. I have just spent the last couple of hours, lying on my back inside my kiln, piping mortar into gaps in the brickwork of its ceiling using, of all things, an icing bag. I contemplated just how undainty my kind of pottery can be, as gravity returned most of the mortar onto me, and how the Cake Craft shop in Tavistock probably sold me the icing equipment thinking I would indeed be making rosebuds, and placing them on a royal-iced celebration cake. Instead, I am standing here trying to pick the drying mortar out of my hair, and wondering if there really is any point in putting my cement-splattered jeans into the washing machine, or whether I should accept the Bricky look, and try to start a new fashion in Postbridge.

I shall inspect the mortar-work tomorrow, and if I am satisfied that the bodging job will suffice, I shall start packing pots into the kiln ready for a March firing (horribly close when you consider that next week is lost to half term). Kiln-packing, as regular readers will know, comes a close second to chainsawing wood in the league of my least favourite bits of the job. But it is another step towards completing the winter's task of stocking up on pots ready for Easter. Over the past months there has been much hard work undertaken, but only when the shop shelves are full do I feel I've been doing anything.

I keep glowering at the horizon, checking that snow is not going to fall again. There's a biting north wind, and sleet passes through every now and then, but I think all will be okay for the next few days. I'm learning, though, that when there is a biting north wind, our Rayburn blows out ..... not a good combination of events....

15th January 2010

And so the thaw. It may have been a 45 mile round trip to find clear enough roads this morning, but today the kids had their first full day at school in 2010, and a glimpse of normal routine at the pottery peeked through all the slush.

The damage caused by the snow is being inspected: the shed holding much of the kiln-wood has a collapsing roof due to the weight of the snow that accumulated on it over the past fortnight, and poor old Margory the kiln is awash. The photo shows the cob-covered back of the kiln and the base of the brick chimney, and as you can see, there is a mini-waterfall and pool forming, It seems that every acre of snow between us and Higher White Tor is thawing and running downhill towards her. I cannot imagine how many extra hours that will add to the next firing, as a wet kiln will never reach temperature.

We'll be able to safely welcome visitors down to the pottery this weekend, as Malcolm, a regular friend of Powdermills (tea, no sugar), visited with his digger this morning and scraped the compacted snow and ice off the drive. And after a jolly good clear up around the yard over the weekend, it'll be business at usual in the workshop on Monday.....

9th January 2010

Never before have I been so appreciative of slippers: you can put on as many thermal layers as you like but, when you're standing around in the snow, it's always your feet that give way to the cold. Sinking into Rayburn-warmed fleecy footware has become the highlight of my day. We've had five days of proper sledging snow, and there's more due in tonight, apparently.

Having the kids at home - I can't imagine how many days it will be before the 9 miles of lanes between Powdermills and school will be clear enough to get them in - and the fact that my workshop has rather rudimentary heating, has meant that I have not been playing with clay this week. Desperate to get on with something, I decided to split kiln-wood in readiness for the Spring firings of Margory. Bored with making snowmen, as you can see from the photo, it became quite a family affair.

What I like about being snow-bound, in spite of the many inconveniences, is that it makes you appreciate the really important things in life. Each day, as I knock out the frozen blocks of ice in the animals' water buckets, I thank my lucky stars that the well and water pump at Powdermills have not frozen up (others up here have been less lucky); not knowing when the roads will be clear enough to stock up on food means that between us, the chickens and other animals not one morsel is wasted; and having huge supplies of wood on site for the kiln has been comforting because you know the house will be warm at the end of the day. The other stuff we cluck about most days, you are reminded, is fluff and luxury....

So, tell me Mr Weather-Man, does having a proper, cold Winter mean that (unlike the last three) we will get a dry, sunny Summer this year?

We're still open at weekends, by the way. Only you can judge whether Highways has done enough to get your vehicle to the top of the drive, however, this may be the best method of transport down to the shop at the moment - sledge or shank's pony.....

6th January 2010

Well, any good resolutions to knuckle down to some serious pot-making have been shelved. We're snowed in again. And I don't mean the kind of snow you see on the telly - a dusting in central Basingstoke with a few disgruntled drivers sliding round a roundabout behind a news reporter. We're well and truly stuck and the ration books are out.

Despite their mother's determined efforts to get them into school, the kids were there for two hours on the first day of term before a land-rover was sent out to get them back (thank you, Sam). Can't see them getting there this week. No point in longing to get into the workshop, just got to get out there and make fun (sigh). So, along with the rest of the nation, we've been spending the day having snowball fights, building snowmen and generally lying around in the drifts. Then, having achieved the traditional painfully-cold toes in our wellies, headed back in for hot chocolate and a duvet day.

I usually avoid using this blog for political comment, but I have to say that the standard of snow-ploughing and gritting across the moor during this winter's snow has been awful. And it's really noticeable because it's usually so good. I'm assured I will soon get a reply to my e-mail of complaint, but then I have another one somewhere informing me that the County Council will respond to another matter by June 2008.... and I'm still waiting....

29th December 2009

This, no doubt, will be my last entry for 2009. Time to look back at what the last year brought, good and bad, and make some plans for 2010: this is when I find these blog entries rather useful, as I have the memory of a goldfish and reading back helps me remember what happened at the pottery in the last year.

I know from experience that once we get past the interruption that is Christmas and the New Year, the once far-off speck on the horizon that is Easter comes running towards me at an alarming pace. The sense of urgency is already beginning to mount, as much work has to be done before the pottery starts to open daily and serve cream teas. Most importantly, I must finishing making enough pots to fill and fire Margory three times, or there will be insufficient stock for the pottery shop. The final touches to the marketing of the pottery for the 2010 season must now be completed, as most of the advertising deadlines are before year-end. I need to keep the book-keeping up to date, as I won't have time to plough through any back-log once the main season begins and the tax year ends. And I have at least two throwing courses to run. I'm already scanning the horizon, looking for the next fall of snow, as I have no slack in the timetable for having kids at home, unable to get to school. All this at the darkest time of year when the fireside, book and slippers beckon.

So, I must lift my seasonally over-fed arse out of this extremely comfortable armchair, stop pretending that updating the blog is much more urgent than getting into the workshop, and get started. Here's wishing you a contented and prosperous 2010, everybody....

4th December 2009

The labours of the last two months are beginning to bear fruit, and I am fast running out of shelf-space in the workshop for the pots I've made. I decided that the obvious place to put them, in order to make room for the next batch of creations, would be in the kiln. I've no intention of firing the kiln until early Spring, which is just as well, because the high winds we have experienced recently ain't conducive to firing a wood-fuelled kiln which stands out in the back yard.

I do, however, have a minor crisis with the kiln, which I must attend to before I can pack it. Regular readers of these pages will know that Margory (the kiln) is a fifteen foot long arched tunnel. Because she reaches such a high temperature (1350c), she is built without mortar between the kiln bricks as it would struggle to survive such heat. The only things that keep the arch standing are gravity and the keystone. If you look closely at the picture alongside, you'll see that the line of bricks just to the left of the keystone at the top of the arch is beginning to drop. It's the keystone that is supposed to do that. However, because I've made Margory's keystone from one fifteen-foot-long block, it isn't flexible enough, and the shorter bricks next to it are moving instead.

When those bricks go, the whole kiln will fold up like a sheet of paper at an origami club. This, ultimately, means I must re-build the kiln. But until then, there will have to be some carefully considered bodging and mending going on.....

21st November 2009

This morning I decided I should update the blog, and battled out to take a photo: As it was the first day of the Powdermills annual pre-Christmas sale, I thought a shot of the shop front with the twinkly lights and warm glow of the woodburner on the inside, and the chequered 'Sale' signs on the window would be a shot to take. Blurry isn't it? That's because as I stood taking it, the gales were so strong I was constantly being blown off balance and unable to keep still. The camera complained of 'camera shake' and refused to work: I found myself calmly telling it that if it didn't get a grip, as the driving needles of rain being hurled at me were finding the gaps between the stitches in any seams, it would find itself being hurled too - at the wall. This was the best we managed, and both survived to tell the tale.

Needless to say, when I opened the doors on the first day of the sale this morning, given the rdiculous weather we are experiencing, I didn't think I would see many visitors. How I underestimated the livers-in and lovers-of Dartmoor. A mere 40 knots of wind, with driving horizontal rain, clearly isn't sufficient enough reason to put you off heading for the hills. It was humbling to see you all, thank you.

For those of you who would like to see what 'special' weather we have been experiencing this week, take a look at the Powdermills weather station - there's a link on the 'What to Do on Dartmoor' page of this website. Anything that wasn't battened down sufficiently has disappeared - including our kids' trampoline, which was retrieved with the kind help of our neighbour Chris, his Landy and a rope, from the Cherrybrook stream about a quarter of a mile away. Still, can't go on much longer, can it.... Can it?...

7th November 2009

Tricky little blighters, teapots. So difficult to make a body, spout, handle and lid which, when put together, make a convincing whole. Somehow you've got to create the illusion that all those bits you've stuck together have always been on the same team: does the shape of the handle echo the shape and size of the spout..... does the lid interrupt the rounded shape of the body? Plus of course, it has to be useable - are the ergonomics of the handle right for pouring? And, after all this angst, after weeks of chasing the dream of making something that is both pleasing to the eye and functional, I will only ever be asked one thing by a potential purchaser......... does it drip....? (Sigh).

I've made some hilariously ugly ones this week, but I was quite pleased with this little one-person teapot. Mind you, I'm finding it difficult to scale up... although I have hope for the one in bits on the shelf below. I shall be spending more days this week making teapots, listening to the rain battering on the tin roof, with Radio 4 muttering in the corner, and the wood-burner filling the workshop with smoke as the wind gets up. Happy as a pig in.....

And the answer to the quesiton? Yes, it will drip - I've never met a teapot, hand-made or otherwise, which doesn't...

1st November 2009

Anyone who is self-employed will tell you there is a danger that running your own business takes up every waking moment of every day in the year. Having a break, however short, is so important for stopping yourself getting stale - and it's often when you get your best ideas. I fancied a change, so have recently spent a few days in a National Park, walking the hills in mist and rain, amongst hill-farms, sheep and ramblers...a real change of scene (!)

During those few days, I decided to make a change to the pottery winter opening hours. Until Easter, the shop at Powdermills is now open at weekends only. Whilst plodding about The Lakes, I realised how important it is to have some time in the year when I can concentrate on making pots - to keep taking steps towards realising the dream that brought me here. So, Monday to Friday, I shall be ensconced in the workshop making mud pies.... what luxury. Of course, the shop will be open on Saturdays and Sundays to allow for that all-important pre-Christmas shopping.

During my time away, I also spent a day working with my mentor, Richard Phethean, who taught me how to throw pots on the potters wheel more years ago than I care to remember. We looked particularly at the tricky craft of making teapots. So, that's where I'm going to start - putting all that new-found information into action. Over the next few months, you can expect the shelves at Powdermills to become full to brimming with all sizes of teapot... which of course we will use to serve cream teas next season...

11th October 2009

This weekend saw 2009's third and final Throwing Course at Powdermills: four keen students, some of whom had travelled from far lands (well, Herefordshire and Coventry). They worked hard over the two days, and left having practised the skills they need to make mugs and bowls when they get home to their own potters' wheels. It was a lot to cover in two days, but they tackled throwing cylinders, pulling handles, throwing bowls and turning foot rings with smiles and enthusiasm. Shame they had to put up with my cooking each lunchtime....

9th October 2009

I thought I should introduce you to one of the people who regularly drops in to the pottery at Powdermills, and keeps the wheels of industry turning. This cheery chap is Alfie, a driver for APS Overnight (Parcel Express) courier services in Plymouth. Whenever an order is placed through our on-line shop, the goods are lovingly bubble-wrapped, swathed in bio-degradable packing chips, and placed in a box. After a brief phone call to the APS office in Plymouth, as if by magic, Alfie appears in a puff of green smoke....... and always with a smile. Your goods are placed in the van and whisked off to begin their journey to whatever part of the country, or globe, requested. Always a pleasure to see Alfie: it wouldn't even occur to me to use a different courier company....

1st October 2009

The last cream tea for the year was served on Wednesday, and we spent this morning packing away the marquee and furniture. It's amazing how quick it is to fold-up a whole section of the pottery's business: and once it's all stowed away, the focus of Powdermills completely changes. Now it's all about clay... In fact, in the background of this photo, you will see the workshop door wide open and a bale of off-cuts just peeping into the frame. Both indications that I'm spending more time spinning clay into pots, and there are plans afoot for Autumn firings.

October is a busy month at Powdermills: in a week's time I'll be running the third and last Throwing Course of the year, which no doubt I will report on through these pages; then, I must pack all the pots I've made (and I've yet to make) into the kiln before the school half term. The date for firing Margory is set for the week the kids go back to school, i.e. the first week in November, and I have much to do in order to be ready.

Having said that, I am swanning off for a four day break.... justified only by the fact that I shall take my accounts pad and get all the book-keeping up to date while I'm away.... as long as I have a large glass of red for company.

18th September 2009

I mixed the first of two batches of clay today, and revelled in the air of anticipation created by filling up the clay bins. All that mud sitting, waiting patiently for its turn to be made into a pot. The clay mixer itself - shown right - looks like it was first used in Dickensian times, or was once driven by steam power. It was originally intended for mixing dough in commercial quantities for a bakery: if only it could talk, I'd love to know its history. Here at Powdermills, however, it is used to mix powdered Dartmoor clay with water, and a fine job it does too.

I have decided to mix a second batch of clay to a slightly different recipe, use it to make a few pots and see what the clay is capable of in the next firing in early November. I'm going to add some unground river gravel taken from the stream that runs alongside the pottery. I've done this before, and it gives a rustic texture to the fired pot which I rather like, and a spotting where the felspar and mica in the gravel melts at top temperature. However, I have had trouble in the past with the slip coating vitrifying before all this action has finished, resulting in little blisters on the surface. In the new recipe, I am hoping to remedy this problem. Time will tell.....

Note to self, having looked at the photo alongside: buy new overalls. I inherited these blue ones with the pottery 11 years ago, and Nic (their original owner) and I are simply not the same shape....

10th September 2009

Many years ago, in conversation over the bar at the Warren House Inn, Peter, a local old boy who's been a farm hand on Dartmoor all his life, explained to me that his working (and social) year began with the Devon County Show in May, and ended with Widecombe Fair in September. I thought of him as I drove back from Widecombe Fair this week, and mused that his words rang just as true for those of us involved in that new-fangled Dartmoor industry, tourism. Certainly here at the pottery as we enter September, there is an air of the summer season drawing to a close, and of activities in the shop and cream tea kitchen being slowly wound down. At the same time, new projects are being started with urgent energy, because in the next four weeks as summer activities decrease, everything must be in put in place for the beginning of the winter season, in which a year's stock of pots is made.

Across the yard from the shop and tea tables, there has been much lifting, shifting and grunting going on in the workshop this week: three van loads of recycling and dumping later, and an amazing thing has been created...... an empty space. If you didn't see what it looked like before, it would be hard to describe the enormity of the achievement. This is all to make room for extra potters' wheels, as the October throwing course is full to brimming.

That done, in the next couple of days I plan to move my own wheel to a new position in the workshop (I'm looking forward to a new outlook on life...); the pots I have on my shelves are to be packed away into the kiln ready for firing, thus creating space for the soon-to-be-made master pieces which currently exist only in my head; clay bins will be filled in preparation for increasing hours spent on the wheel, stocks of sawdust stored to fuel the sawdust-burner as it gets colder; and Hob-Nobs purchased for the communal biscuit tin. I'm getting quite excited that the time is coming when I will leave the workshop after a day with clay, to find a night sky bursting with stars and I can watch the changing phases of the moon.

So, in both farming and tourism up here on the moor where we live so close to the seasons, the frenetic summer activity is ending, thanks will be given for the harvest, stores laid down for winter, and a quieter, more contemplative winter approaches.

5th September 2009

We had a treat today, because Ian Strugnell spent the day with us at Powdermills. Ian is our local basket-maker, and I have had the privilege of selling his baskets at Powdermills for a number of years now. As he was dropping off his work for the shop today, he decided he would stay and make a log basket.

If you look closely at the photo, you'll see that Ian is using three colours of willow: the willow just as it is cut which gives the darkest brown, the same willow with the bark stripped off which gives a white, and stripped willow which has been boiled in water for nine hours. Boiling the soaking water, I now know, brings the tanins out, changing the colour to a mid-brown. Watching Ian weave these three colours into a pattern as he made the basket was a revelation. Ian manages willow beds on the south coast of Devon, producing most of his willow himself: I particularly admire craft-makers who produce their raw material themselves and have the skill to craft it into a useful item: Ian is certainly one of those.

We...and our customers...enjoyed his company so much, that he has been invited back whenever he wants. We bestowed him with our highest accolade: he has been added to the kitchen 'computer', which lists how our regular visitors take their tea or coffee....

18th August 2009

Last year, many of you financially sponsored Jess ' efforts to build her first kiln by buying individual kiln bricks from which she could build Dorothy. That all seems a long, long time ago, for not only is the kiln built, but it has now been filled and fired twice. Jess always said that she would give a pot from one her first ever firings of Dorothy to one of those sponsors, whose name would be pulled out of a hat. And today was the day to draw the name, with a little help from the youngest member of the team. And the winner is......... Mr and Mrs Renshaw of Tavistock, who are now the proud owners of the bowl seen sitting on the tree stump in the photo alongside.

Jess unpacked her kiln early this week, and the results were great, so the Renshaws will be receiving a little stunner of a pot. Now Jess faces the task of deciding the qualities of the recently unpacked pots that she likes and dislikes, working out how those effects were gained, and adjusting her kiln-firing cycle to try and make the right things happen next time she fires Dorothy. It's the beginning of a long, frustrating and exciting journey as a wood-firer....

17th August 2009

Who would have thought that Google Street View would bother coming all the way up here....?

13th August 2009

At last, a few days on the trot with dry and sunny weather...anyone would think it's summer. August is traditionally our busiest month of the year, and this, combined with the sunshine, has brought a high number of visitors down our drive. Most stay for a cream tea, and have enjoyed views of Bellever Tor whilst sitting in our front yard, soaking up the sun or enjoying the shade of the marquee.

But whilst all this activity has been going on in the front yard, the really interesting stuff has been quietly going on in the back yard. For Jess has been firing her kiln, Dorothy. Weaving firing activity in between serving teas and looking after customers in the shop, Jess and the Powdermills team have been feeding Dorothy wood every ten minutes between first thing Monday and Thursday evening. Jess was helped not only by Hannah, Becca and myself, but also managed to rope in her Mum (pictured) and her brother Jonny. This evening I have left Jess tidying up around her kiln site, with Dorothy having reached a top temperature of about 1325c now closed up and humming gently as she starts to cool.

The kiln will take a number of days to cool enough to be unpacked, then Jess can start the nail-biting process of finding out what's inside. No doubt the new pots will be hitting the shelves at Powdermills, and the on-line shop, next week.

4th August 2009

What a treat I had at the weekend: one of the archaeological team at the Dartmoor National Park Authority dropped in, bringing shards of pottery recently excavated from a nearby hut circle. They were remnants of pots that would have been in use 3,500 years ago. As I picked them up and turned them over, I was dumb-struck that I was able to handle bits of pots made by unknown hands that length of time ago. And my snap-shot really doesn't do them justice: there was nothing primitive about the crafting of these pots - the rims were shaped and formed so evenly, and the glimpsed scratched decoration done with such care. It brought images to me of men collecting and preparing clay before shaping the pot, probably firing them in a bonfire or pit - so many echoes of how, and why, I make pots the way I do at Powdermills today. I was told that the geology of the clay used in one of the pots suggests it came from the Lizard peninsula in Cornwall: obviously a useful, or loved, or prized pot to be worthy of export to Dartmoor.

It was an thought-provoking pause, snatched during the busy, financially necessary activity of serving teas, and a timely reminder not to lose sight of what I came here to do.... make good, simple pots from the bountiful store-cupboard of materials in the ground around Dartmoor, for somebody to use, love or prize. The most stark difference between the endeavours of middle bronze age man and me would seem to be that he probably didn't have to find a place alongside Tesco knocking out machine-made mugs for 79p.....

23rd July 2009

Ashley and Paul (pictured right) have spent the day repairing the door to the pottery workshop ... the hole through which the winter wind whistled and the rain blew is now gone. The idea, of course, was that the repair would be made in the warmer summer months ready for the autumn. They're frequent visitors to Powdermills, constantly fixing the wood that the moorland climate treats harshly, and really should know better - they turned up this morning in t-shirts. Well, come on boys, this is nearly August, so of course it rained stair-rods.

The realisation is setting in that August is going to be wet in the south west for the third summer in row. But we're ready for it this year - it may be summer, but on inclement days our customers can be found supping cream teas and luxury hot chocolates around the wood-burner in the gallery. Maybe we should start a tradition, like the Warrren House Inn, and have the fire alight all year-round regardless of the season!

We've noticed a marked increase this year in the number of visitors coming to us from mainland Europe. Dartmoor has always been popular with holiday-makers from Germany and the Netherlands, but I think this year our European neighbours are single-handedly propping up the Dartmoor tourist industry - there's always a silver lining, even to the weak pound...

5th July 2009

This afternoon a little car glided down the drive to the pottery, and came to a halt amongst terrible crunching and grinding noises. Out stepped our customer, Alison, and her friends, looking understandably concerned. Little did they know when they left home that morning, that they would be spending their afternoon quaffing hot chocolate at Powdermills, sheltering from the down-pours, awaiting help. Help came in the form of Jason, from the RAC, pictured here with Alison. And little did Jason know when he was called out to a break down on Dartmoor, that he would be emptying his pockets buying special gifts for his wife....

1st July 2009

It struck me this morning that I haven't updated this blog for many weeks. June to September is the time when we see most of our visitors at Powdermills, and the amount of time we have in the workshop is dramatically decreased. Simply put, I have had very little to report on the pot-making front: however, I am still running to the workshop whenever I can to snatch half an hour with clay, intent on inching my way through filling Margory with pots to fire.

Most of our days at the moment are spent scurrying around the shop and the cream tea kitchen, doing our very best to give our customers the happy Powdermills experience. It really is a dream team this summer: working alongside me are Hannah and Jess, Judith and Becca - all of whom are well known to those of you who have visited us over the years. It's a team comprising two potters, a ceramic jeweller, a silversmith and a photographer. We all get on famously, and I have noticed that the joviality, together with a happy amount of sunshine, has rubbed off on our visitors.

In a couple of weeks time we have been invited to participate in a Dartmoor National Park archaeological event in Postbridge. There's to be an open day displaying some of the artefacts (including pottery shards, which I shall be pouring over) found during the recent excavation of a nearby hut circle, with further prehistoric antiquties from Exeter Museum on show. I shall be demonstrating pot-making on a tiny hand-spun wheel, and there will be other craftsmen, including a flint-napper, demonstrating their making methods. It promises to be a very interesting day, and I shall, of course, duly report through these pages....

24th May 2009

Earlier in the year I reported in this blog that Judith was working on creating her own range of jewellery. Now that she has managed to replenish her stocks following the speedy sales of her first pieces, Powdermills is honoured to announce that we have received new work in our shop. Her range includeds ear-rings, necklaces, rings and bangles. I thought I'd give you a taster with this picture of a pair of ear-rings. I now have a number of Judith creations, and each time I wear them they are greatly complimented. Needless to say the beads are made of the pottery's Dartmoor clay and fired in our kilns.

If you are interested in seeing Judith's new range of ear-rings, rings, necklaces and bangles, then keep an eye on the Jewellery section of our on-line store, or pop into the Powdermills shop.

23rd May 2009

Today was the first day of the Powdermills 2009 cream tea season. We have a new marquee this year: regular customers will remember that towards the end of last year's season, in the gales and rain that featured so prominently during our summer, the last marquee took off... last seen heading towards Longaford Tor. I hasten to add no customers were inside at the time! Now, Dartmoor folk are saying this year that, as the oak tree came into leaf before the ash, we are due a good summer. So, hopefully, this year the marquee will be the sun-shade it is intended to be, and not a refuge from storms.

For those of you who would like to know the saying....

"Ash before Oak in for a soak.
Oak before Ash, in for a splash"

I have far more confidence in what the trees are saying than the Met Office, so here's hoping.

This was the scene at eight o'clock on the morning of the 23rd. I am still quietly amazed that we were ready in time to receive our first tea customers at 10am. Firing Dorothy had kept us so busy during the week, that final preparations were rather last minute. However, after another team effort, two hours later the courtyard was a sunny scene of contented customers soaking up the view, and munching on clotted cream and scones made the traditional Dartmoor way.

21st May 2009

The pottery world had better watch out, there's a new wood-firer on the block! Jess fired her newly-built kiln, Dorothy, for the first time this week: she said last Autumn that she would build her kiln and fire it before the 2009 cream tea season began...and she has. As our kilns are fired through the night, it is a team effort with Judith, myself and Robbie taking a shift stoking the fires to allow Jess to grab some sleep, and Becca covering us during the day in the shop. It's a happy little working family.

I was once told that it takes about nine firings before you get close to understanding how to fire a new wood-fuelled kiln. Even after nine years I am still struggling with the mystery of how much wood and air to let in to get heat, versus how much wood and air to let in to produce the colour of clay you would like (needless to say, each desired result requires the opposite). This was Jess' and Dorothy's first of many firings together - the beginning of a long and exciting wood-firing journey. Truly a milestone, and Powdermills was honoured to witness it.

You will see in the photograph of the kiln at night, there appears to be no crew: I have noticed recently that if I so much as mutter the word 'blog' everybody runs away and hides behind the sofa. So I thought I would spare them the groans of 'bad side'...'brush my hair'...'five fleeces, so look fat' and take one with just the star of today's show in it.....Dorothy.

18th May 2009

This is Bella, pictured on this weekend's Powdermills Throwing Course, in the process of making a fine bowl from 2lb of clay (sorry, haven't gone metric). We had fun, and much progress was made. Having the shop on site selling, amongst other things, the work of eight potters proved rather useful - we could muse over many different styles of handles, foot-ring or belly as we tackled each step of pot-making over the two days. The 40mph gales and driving rain outside very nearly made the workshop feel cosy, and stopped me from skipping over the yard to the kitchen to make coffee too many times, so every minute was focused on the business of throwing.

If you would like to visit a one-stop shop and see the different approaches potters have to pot-making, and you live locally, could I suggest viewing the Christine Halstead collection being exhibited at the Devon Guild of Craftsmen? It's on 'til the end of next week. I don't normally do exhibitions, and I haven't managed to get there myself yet, but I think this one could be worthy of finding the time...

8th May 2009

Not long ago, all that stood on this spot was a concrete slab, but today Jess has been dodging the showers to take pots from the workshop and pack them into her newly-completed kiln. She has decided that her kiln should be named Dorothy, as in the early days of being built she stood in Wizard-of-Oz-style gale force winds and survived to tell the tale. Once Dorothy has been fully packed, the front doorway will be bricked up.

And here's the science bit..... Those of you who have followed Jess' progress in her kiln-build through these pages will have seen how she started with just the brick 'catenary' arch (scroll down for earlier entries). The far end of that arch has now been bricked up, with just a square hole left in the bottom of it - a doorway (aka flue) to the chimney behind. Jess has divided the space inside the arch into three sections: the middle part being where the pots will be cooked, and a part either side in which wood will be burned to make heat (aka fireboxes). The square holes you see in the front walls of these side spaces are where wood will be fed onto the fires (aka stoke holes). Dorothy is a down-draft kiln: the flames from the two fires will flow over the dividing walls (aka bag walls), then be sucked down through the pots to the flue, before leaving the kiln up the chimney. Clever, huh?

So now my Margory has a new little sister to keep her company in the kiln-yard. One day, we'll have to fire them both at the same time, and really get things really smokin' up here at the Mills....

3rd May 2009

We hardy types who are up here all year round (us, the sheep and ponies), have noticed that the summer softies are arriving on the moor for the warmer seasons: the swallows have arrived and started nesting around the pottery buildings, a cuckoo has been heard in the ruins of the gunpowder mills, and the two tenant farmers with newtakes alongside Powdermills have brought up their cows and calves from the lowlands. It starts to feel very crowded around here at this time of the year.

The vegetation is growing rampantly, and I am beginning to miss Carla the pony. She was an efficient grazer of all the verges and yards around Powdermills, but this year, following her demise, I have had to hunt out and dust off the strimmer.

All this activity signals a change in what we do at the pottery, too. Although all our efforts are currently focused on making pots and filling kilns with a view to firing them in the coming weeks, the return of Dartmoor's summer residents urges us to make all the final preparations for our busiest time of the year. It won't be long before the marquee goes up in the front courtyard and tables are dotted about so that we can bestow our customers with luscious cream teas; we are seeing a steady increase in visitors to the pottery shop as the holiday season begins; and I am on borrowed time to get kiln-firings done before the schools break up and the family is at home. We'll shortly be oiling our roller-skates so that we can zip between the workshop, kitchen and shop with ease: I hope you get the opportunity to come and visit us this summer, too.

25th April 2009

Let me introduce you to a couple of valued friends of the Powdermills team:



The first is Steve 'Chainsaw'. The fact that Steve is on site is a signal that my mind is turning to firing the kiln, as Steve is the one who chainsaws, splits and stacks the four tonne of wood that we use each time we fire Margory. And, having prepared the wood myself on occasion, I value Steve's contribution very, very much indeed. In fact, I have realised with horror that he is coming to the end of his third year at University, may soon be searching for a well-paid job, and we could lose him to an employer. That thought makes me want to lie down with a flannel on my forehead.

I bet Steve looks forward to his days at Powdermills: as I type this, I am looking out of the kitchen window at the kiln yard, watching him work in the first day of Dartmoor-style driving horizontal rain we've had in weeks, with hail stones mixed in for good measure.....

.....and here is Jason: he and his family have been pals of ours ever since we moved to Powdermills in '99. He's been here for a few days recently, putting a shelter over Jess' nearly-completed kiln, to keep off the Dartmoor monsoons.

Like many Dartmoor farmers, Jason's philosophy is, quite rightly, that there aren't many problems in life that can't be solved with a chainsaw and baler twine. He built the wood shed for my first kiln, Doris, and as I passed Jason a cuppa with a feeling of deja vue, I was horrified to realise that was ten years ago...!

5th April 2009

Today was a big day for Jess and one she won't forget for quite a while, for she reached a significant moment in the building of her kiln. The main body of the kiln is a catenary arch: bricks are built around a self-made wooden shape with no mortar sticking them together (if you scroll down, you can see an image of Jess beginning to lay bricks). The finished arch relies entirely on the forces of gravity, staying up only if you have got the angle of the arch right, and shaped the keystone correctly. Today, Jess reached the point in her kiln-build where she had finished the brick-work, the wooden former had to be taken away and she found out whether the arch she's built will stand up or fall over.

We thought we would share this nail-biting moment with you, so we filmed it. Jess has helped me build kilns, but this is the first one she has built entirely on her own and she felt the tension like never before! If you click on the link below, by the wonder of YouTube, you will be able to view a video of the crucial moment. First you will see the bricks on which the wooden former stands knocked from under it, then, with a bit of encouragement, the wooden former drops....but when we took the former away did the arch stand or collapse.......?

3rd April 2009

This is my most favourite place in the world: quietly sitting at the wheel making pot-shaped mud pies, listening to Radio Four burbling away in the background, plodding slowly through the long list of pots needed to fill my 75 cubic foot kiln. And it's not all about shaping pots on the wheel, there's endless reasons to keep me in my workshop: there's clay to be prepared; glaze materials to grind and mix up into a soup; handles to shape and fasten; foot-rings to carve into the bottom of bowls; all sorts of fun and frustration. As far as I'm concerned my workshop is the centre of the universe...albeit a rather cold and damp one - it is Dartmoor after all.

However, there seems to be a daily conspiracy to keep me away from my workshop. There's the days when I struggle with simple self-motivation, when I can convince myself that looking at the website visitor statistics really is far more urgent (I like to imagine why fifteen people are reading this at 4am.... pottery-interested shift-workers? Parents sitting up with kids?). Then there's the everyday little things that add up to significant interruptions - the dog staring at me accusingly whilst waiting for his walk; kids off school with the latest mysterious viral illness that they inconsiderately get one at a time; a flurry of customers visiting the shop (I'm not complaining); a biological need for fifteen coffees in order to function. And lastly, the administration essentials - paperwork that needs completing in order to keep an ever-increasing number of bureaucracies quiet. Before I know it, the business day is coming to a close, and I've only just got going.

So, if you find yourself passing Powdermills anytime between 8pm and midnight, don't be surprised if you see the light on in the workshop, and smoke gently rising from the wood-burner flue. It's my favourite time of day for making pots: it's quiet, usually uninterrupted and, as regular readers of this blog will know, I enjoy the opportunity to soak up the night sky as I plod back across the yard to bed.

I would invite you in for a cuppa...but I really must get on....

30th March 2009

This week heralds an end of an era because, after two years, Judith is leaving her post of gallery manager at Powdermills. She's not going far, though: she'll be moving across the yard, spending more time in the workshop creating her range of jewellery (see right for action shot), which will of course be sold here at the Powdermills shop and on-line. In large part, this has been made possible by those of you who helped Judith raise the funds to buy expensive silver-smithing equipment, by buying pots of jam last cream tea season. Thank you.

Making jewellery is, of course, only one of Judith's skills: she is also a mayan astrologer and kineseologist. Have a look at Judith's website for more information. I can personally recommend her kineseology skills as she has rid me of the potters' scourge - carpel tunnel syndrome - and also corrected a years-long irregular heartbeat, without the need for scalpels or drugs.

I'm sure Judith will miss creating sanity out of my weird and wonderful shop administration systems, I will certainly miss her influence on the daily running of the Powdermills show (she'll be able to watch from across the yard and laugh.....).

Spring Equinox 2009

This photo is testament to what happens when the sun comes out: here you see representatives of all three businesses based in the Powdermills buildings (Pottery, Spirit of Adventure and Dartcom) who have emerged like moles out of tunnels and congregated to chat and drink tea around lunchtime. Great stuff, sunshine, it brings smiles and happy working. And now that we've reached Spring, we have a growing number of daylight hours which have the potential to be filled with the stuff (here's hoping) ...... Equinox Greetings, everyone..

17th March 2009

Dartmoor is a fabulous place when the weather is with you, and this week we are being blessed with sunshine and gentle breezes. What a difference it makes: we've all shaken off two layers of fleece and found that we have new levels of energy and enthusiasm. I'm sitting on the bench in the front yard typing this, getting all poetic watching the newly-arrived skylarks bobbing on the breeze ..... and clay dust in the keyboard.

Judith's producing a new range of earrings, and I shall be swooping in for a purchase as soon as she will let me. As you can see from the photo, Jess has grabbed the chance to get on with her kiln-building. I don't think she'll have any shortage of volunteers coming to help this week, as they can work with the sun on their backs. I'm welded to the wheel, enjoying the fact that I can throw the workshop doors open, rather than battening-down against wind and rain. I'm finding that I'm getting through my 'Pots To Make' list quite nicely - warm hands are so much more productive - which is just as well, as I have about four weeks to fill Margory with pots and fire her again. I've got a feeling that very shortly afterward, Jess will be firing her new kiln for the very first time...

6th March 2009

Jess took delivery of her kiln bricks today...a major step in her kiln-building project. She and I stood there looking at two pallets of clean, white perfect bricks like two kids in a sweetie-shop. Jess has already made the wooden former for the kiln arch, so, given a few days of clear weather, the Powdermills posse will be gathered - bribed with the promise of chips - and building will begin. Our thanks go to Richard of Intercounty Distribution who got the bricks to us....

Judith has been working on her jewellery range for this season, which I am sure will be the subject of a blog in weeks to come. As for me, I've been grumpily catching up on book-keeping in time for the end of tax year. But then my day of drudgery was suddenly brightened up: a chap came into the shop who used to be one of my regulars when I worked my way through my pottery training pulling pints in my local Essex pub. Despite the years, I remembered that he drunk Guinness, because every year I set myself a daft goal to achieve, and my ambition that year had been to learn to put a shamrock on top on a pint of the black stufff - he had been my guinea-pig. This year's ambition is to learn how to make a shrill whistle by putting two fingers in your mouth. I'm failing miserably...any tips greatly appreciated by e-mail...

23rd February 2009

I meet some nice people doing this job. This is Steve, pictured in the clay bagging plant at the East Golds clay works, loading the van up with our next tonne of clay. Steve works in a cavenous metal shed with rows upon rows of bags of clays, palletted and wrapped, waiting for customers like us to come and claim them. We watched with the kind of fascination that I used to have when 'going through the round window' on Play School, as we saw powdered clay being measured and bagged, stacked 40 bags to a pallet, wrapped and rolled off the line. Not one person involved in any of that process, just Steve and his trusty forklift receiving the pallets and moving them to the right row in the shed.

We had a great half-hour at the clay works, flopping about in safety boots that were about three sizes too big, and dressing up in high-vis jackets and hard hats that were actually my old chainsaw helmet and a rock-climbing helmet borrowed from my neighbours Spirit of Adventure. 'Elf n Safety and all that. We tried to work out when to be in or out of the van on the weighbridge to get our weight in clay for free (we didn't manage it).

Now we've got our clay back to Powdermills it'll be a while before we see Steve: we've got to turn it all into mud-pies before we can justify another visit.

21st February 2009

Doesn't look much, does it? A slab of concrete. But this unassuming-looking slab of concrete heralds an exciting new beginning. This Spring, I am evicting Jess from my kiln: she has one firing left where she can share kiln space in Margory, and then she's on her own. So she is building her first, her very own, wood-fired kiln in Powdermills kiln yard.

Jess learnt her kiln-building skills when she helped me re-build Margory exactly a year ago, and the build will be all her own work (although she'll have to put up with me clucking about in the back-ground). At the end of the build, she will be confident that she has the skills to set up her own pottery one day. The kiln design is based on Clive Bowen's little kiln - Clive has been very generous letting us crawl all over his kiln, nicking ideas. The only part of the build we decided would be best left to the experts was the concrete base on which it will sit. So this slab was laid just before Christmas. She has now started work building the kiln former, in between making pots for her last Margory firing.

I'll report progress as we move through Spring...

9th February 2009

It's quite unbelievable that we managed to fire the kiln in the few days between snow-storms. As soon as we got the pots out of Margory, the snow began to fall again. The kids were off school all week as road conditions worsened, and then the finale: we woke up on Friday morning to amazing snow drifts. Take a look at the photo of the kiln yard: Margory, tucked inside the shed, has an arch that is four foot high, which gives you an idea of the drift depths.

Thanks to the hard work of the Highways Agency, by the time I had dug my car out and cleared the drifts off the drive on Saturday afternoon, the snow-ploughs had reached us. By Sunday our road and the major roads crossing the moor were completely clear. So, back to Business As Usual this week. I'm looking forward to seeing Judith and Jess, I've kinda missed them....

2nd February 2009

Jess and I unpacked the kiln this morning: I hope those of you who watched us on MargoryCam enjoyed the sight of us crawling into the kiln, taking out the pots and heaving the kiln shelves away.

It was a good all-round firing - there is just enough ash on the pots to glaze them without being too grey; there was enough temperature to make the glaze glassy; and enough lack of air to give them a good toasted colour. I was expecting to see some cracking, as we had to fire the kiln without a working pyrometer to guide us on the first day, but thankfully there was none.

So, Jess and I have new stocks of pots to display in the shop, and Judith and Hannah have a new stock of ceramic beads for their jewellery creations. Our next task over the next couple of weeks will be to display them in the Powdermills shop and put them onto the on-line shop. We hope you pop in and see the harvest of our efforts if you are nearby, or, if not, we hope you enjoy them remotely once we've got them on-line.

Thank you for your support and encouragement, everybody. Now.... better get that workshop cleared up, because we've got to start the making-process all over again...

28th January 2009

We finished firing the kiln just before 5pm today, having started on Monday 26th. Thank you to all of you who joined us by MargoryCam and kept in touch by text....I'm sorry our broadcast ended so abruptly: once we had finished the firing, Jess and I ran away sharpish to the Warren House Inn for a well-earned long, cool pint.

The kiln has now been sealed, and will be left to cool. We are hoping that it will be cool enough to unpack on Monday morning. We will broadcast the unpacking on MargoryCam - 11am Monday 2nd Feb.

I must make some extra-special thank-yous to a number of people who helped out during the firing. Firstly, my hubby, Martin, who always takes on the responsibility of all out-of-school childcare whilst I am chained to the kiln for 60 hours, and who this time also stepped into the breach to crew on Monday and Tuesday evenings when I found myself short-staffed (a girl's got to sleep some time). Secondly, my neighbour Dave, who through his knowledge of electronics was able to diagnose why my thermocouple and pyrometer were failing to give me a temperature read-out on the first day of the firing. Thirdly, as usual, a huge thank you to Jess (pictured right), Judith and Hannah who did long, hot, arduous hours of crewing.

PS

Those of you who follow our firings by MargoryCam will have noticed that we changed the camera position this time to give you a better view of proceedings. To do this, we had to stand it out in the yard on a tripod. I thought you may like to see the contraption put together from twigs, string and an ice-cream tub to keep the rain and dew off it, whilst it doggedly stood up to the wind, recording proceedings day and night....

24th January 2009

At last, the kiln was finally completely packed by lunchtime today. We're a week behind the original schedule, but looking forward to striking the match on Monday. and getting Margory lit. Having to delay the firing due to family illness was probably a blessing in disguise.: the snow and ice that arrived last week would have made it difficult for trusty crew members to get here for stoking duties. I know I became rather too well acquainted with a granite wall whilst driving over the moor early on Wednesday.

This afternoon, the front doorway of the kiln has been bricked-up, leaving three windows, or stoke holes, through which we will be stoking wood into the main firebox during the firing. The doorway, like the rest of Margory, has been covered with a layer of cob (clay and hay). Between now and Monday there will be a chance to think, plan the firing, and tidy the space in the kiln-shed which will become our home for three days and two nights.

On Monday lunchtime we will re-launch MargoryCam, so that you can see us at work over 60 hours, as we gently cajole the kiln up to top temperature.

Stop Press - Firing postponed one week

18th January 2009

I have two jobs: one, the dream-fulfillment job of being a potter up here on top of Dartmoor; the other, the most important job in the world, being a Mummy. Sometimes the two collide, and when they do, being a Mummy always takes precedence. This weekend, looking after a sick daughter has had to come before finishing packing the kiln, so Margory will not now be fired until Monday 26th through to Wednesday 28th.

We will finish the kiln packing during this week, and when we are at work, we will have MargoryCam up and running so that you can see what we are up to.

3rd January 2009

Christmas is swept away...the tree and lights packed away into a box, and all eyes turn to 2009. Many exciting plans have been made for the pottery this year:

Five firing dates set for the kiln in January, April, July, October and December;
Three short courses in Throwing set for April, May and October;
Cream teas to start on 23rd May for the duration of the summer.

But the most exciting things of all, are the successes achieved by Judith and Jess in the very last days of 2008, which mean 2009 starts for both of them with an air of happy expectation.

Judith, who many of you know began learning silver-smithing skills during last year, produced her very first range of necklaces and rings. I snapped up the first necklace (pictured) as I had witnessed every emotion that had gone into the making of it, ranging from despair,and rage to, finally, elation. The beads are special to me because they are made of Powdermills clays and fired in Margory. The other pieces have sold well already, and she starts 2009 with only one ring in stock. Nothing quite like the first sales to bring you happily floating back to the work-bench for further making sessions. Thank you to all of you who helped Judith raise funds for tools during the summer, by buying her jars of jam.

Jess also achieved her first step in the building of her very own little kiln in the backyard....but more of that in my next update...

Happy New Year to you all...