On trend with the past few months, March has been… weird. Still.

I finally accepted the fact that winter just isn’t coming. Texas had more severe winter weather than we did in Idaho, and the whole of the past four months was spent waiting for weather that never showed up. I think this is the first winter in the past 4–5 years that I didn’t go ice fishing, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, or soak in a hot spring while snow fell around me.

It was a bummer.

But as soon as the daffodils started popping out of the ground (March 13… unbelievable), I felt my will to live start to return.

This month consisted of visits from friends, time spent in the flower beds, first warm bike rides in months, getting settled into my new job, and more pottery squeezed into the moments between all of that. My energy is, once again, being poured into the things that make me feel warm and fuzzy—and I’m going to soak it up before Idaho turns into an uninhabitable hellscape this summer thanks to the extreme lack of winter precipitation… but we’re not going to think about that yet.

There have been a lot of really great moments this month, despite the disappointment of “winter” coming to an end. Having the mental energy to go work from fun new places, and starting my workdays early as hell (and finishing early too) thanks to working on Eastern time, means I’ve had so much more time at the end of the day for shenanigans.

So, here’s all the fun stuff from March, with a bonus very exciting announcement at the end.

Visits from favorite friends, sunshine beers, skillet cookies, and nursery visits

Ru’s world

We have resumed bugging me in the middle of the day demanding relocation to the patio, and ending the day standing by the fridge begging for a crunchy veggie snack. He’s also feeling extra spry with the promise of warmer days on the horizon.

Flower beds & patio time

Once I finally accepted that it was safe to get back to work in the garden, I realized that somehow in mid-fucking-March I already had an aphid infestation across every single lupine in my flower beds (which is a lot… because I love them).

Naturally, nobody has ladybugs or praying mantises in stock until mid-April, so I’ve spent every single day spraying my plants down with soapy water like a woman possessed. On the flip side, the mild winter meant that I didn’t lose any plants this season. So… silver linings, I guess.

I’ve also, once again, begun the weekly run to the nursery to check on the status of my absolute favorite plant in Boise: the massive wisteria at Five Mile Nursery.

Anniversary shenanigans

Chris and I celebrated our 12-year anniversary this month, which honestly just feels insane to acknowledge. We’ve spent more than one-third of our lives together — and nearly our entire adult lives — and through all of the life changes, cross-country moves, and demanding jobs, we’ve stayed each other’s favorite people and best friends. We went on a little bike ride to grab margaritas and tacos and caught a killer sunset on the way home.

He also got me an absolutely hilarious Valentine’s Day gift last month, a train horn for my car, and when we finally got around to installing it, he had the joy of discovering a mummified bird in my engine compartment. So that was delightful.

But now? I get an unreasonable amount of joy anytime someone gives me a reason to honk.

We also finally found a delicious sandwich shop. No surprise, it’s owned by the same group that runs all of our other favorite restaurants.

Mud everywhere… all the time…

I’ve continued to spend the majority of my free time playing with dirt. I’m feeling really thankful that I dove into this hobby in the middle of winter and had an outlet during all of the shitty weather, especially now that summer is probably going to be absolutely miserable. I’m assuming there will be less adventuring thanks to low water and what will likely be a horrid fire season.

My hands are permanently stained and I look like a self-tanner disaster, but I think this is the first time since I started making sourdough that I’ve found that same deep sense of joy that comes from creating something with my own hands from start to finish.

Pottery is not without consistent failure, though — no matter how good you are. Punching holes in the bottoms while trimming, finishing pieces only to realize the bottom is too thin, glaze combos not working the way you expected… the list is endless.

But when I got my first kiln-load back, I was honestly shocked by how many successes there were. Most of what I glazed were tests (just making sure colors looked the way I wanted on my clay) but I did have a couple of pieces that turned out really nice.

Glaze test tiles and texture tests galore

After getting all of those pieces back and realizing that I might actually be pretty fuckin good at this, I jumped off the deep end. Like… the really deep end. Might as well be the ocean. I started focusing on consistency in size and shape, experimenting with different techniques, and enjoying the warm weather from my little garage studio space.

And then I realized something: There’s only so much you can learn when someone else is in charge of the final result. the kiln firing.

So… I had a 50-amp circuit installed, sold some camera gear, and bought a kiln.

Insane? Probably. But I found that there weren’t many places in Boise where I could have full control over the exact settings used during the most important part of the process. And it’s hard to improve without that control.

It might seem like a ridiculous step for someone who has no intention of selling their work, but I figured that if this was something I was struggling with, surely other people were too.

So… I also started a business.

I’ll spare you all of the long-winded details and internal spirals behind that decision, but if you want to know more…

Check it Out

April, I’m lookin’ forward to you.