The Creation of the Gate with the Bungee Cord Hinges

Time to tell another tale…. After several days of silence in the back yard, the action resumed today. As I was trying to find the top of the kitchen table, getting ready to leave for Cedarburg for my Tuesday class with Katherine de Shazar who guides my studies in the writing of icons, I was summoned to the front door by a man wearing his “Bear Builders” shirt. He introduced himself as Bill and said he was here to remove the back fence so the construction crew could have access. I was happy to direct him to the alley where we have a three-car parking slab behind our tall fence. Fortunately, our neighbor from across the alley, Mike, was in the back, too. We let him park his snow plow/jeep on the slab in exchange for keeping the slab plowed and tidy. He obligingly moved his jeep and Bill moved his large truck in. Then he discussed the overall plan with me.




All this went very well. In fact, when Bill found out about Hildegaard (our dachshund) he devised a clever plan to remove a section of fencing, but to re-attach it with bungee cords like an improvised gate. This means that I will be able to let Hildie out in the back yard when the workers are not there. This may not seem like much, but it really makes a great difference since the construction might take up to eight weeks. He told me that his wife is also an artist with work in the collections of the Smithsonian. Of course, I gave him a brochure about THE Fine Art Gallery and invited them to visit.



I would have taken a picture of the fence, but by the time I got home from icon class and we were done with supper and Hildie’s evening constitutional, it was already dark. Anyway, the fence itself is quite unremarkable in appearance and I'm sure it will be included in later photos.

I will now add another comment, indirectly related to the actual construction of the studio. We live on Milwaukee’s Lower East Side, an area of old Victorian houses standing close together on long, narrow lots for over one hundred years. Most of our homes have generous front porches and most of us have at least one dog or cat or child. We really live in our houses, in our yards, especially in the summer. Because of the porches, I think, we know one another very well. I am truly appreciative of our neighbors. For example, the people next door generously offered to help out with Hildie when construction is underway. She loves to sit out on their porch and enjoys the action and their loving companionship. We are all quite loyal to our neighborhood and I would find it very hard to leave. A few days ago, the woman three houses down brought us a bag of homegrown heirloom tomatoes which I made into a tasty salsa. I left a small loaf of banana-raisin bread in her door and yesterday she returned the pan with a jar of lavender lotion tucked inside—always a luxury when one’s hands are dried out from clay work. They are keeping track of the progress of the studio, as well. When it’s done, I am planning a neighborhood open house.

Tales from Turtle Woman Ceramic Studio: Awaiting more action

Next episode isn’t happening yet!


Early today, while I was still taking my morning swim, Arnold the Contractor returned my call from yesterday afternoon. Sleeping-in-George took the call and when I got home, I returned Arnold’s call. “No,” he said. “There must have been a misunderstanding. Who had told me that the cement crew would be coming this week?”

“You did,” I told him, in your note with the timetable on it.

“You don’t understand construction,” he told me. “Things don’t necessarily go like that.”

“Also, Greg the Builder informed me on Wednesday (when he was here removing the basement door jamb) that the mason would be coming either that very afternoon or Thursday.” Arnold the Contractor informed me that this could not be happening because the Digger’s Hotline People had not come to check out the site and give the go-ahead.

“I thought that’s what the little white ATT Flag from Monday was about,” I responded. Apparently not….

“Anyway,” he assured me, “they have now filed their report and we have permission to continue.” He said that the diggers had to come first and make the deep holes below the frost line for the pilings and foundation before the basement doorway could be bricked in. (Apparently the mason/cement people can’t possibly make two trips for the two separate tasks.) This event is now scheduled for next Wednesday, September 1. That is, weather permitting. So… in the meantime, the piece of plywood will remain blocking the outside basement entrance, with the cracks of light showing around the bottom and sides.

     I told him I was worried about mice and rats getting in, but I guess he doesn’t think that’s an issue. I do, though, because just in early July a mouse stashed some of Hildegaard’s dog food under the oven grate in our stove and I had a major oven fire that ruined the stove. I now have purchased a new stove that bakes well, that I went over budget (what budget?) to procure, and I don’t want to have another stove episode.

     The weekend is now upon us. There is plenty of work to do in the back yard which is an overgrown jungle, beloved of mosquitoes, dachshunds, and small grandchildren, but which I hope to make a bit more attractive since I will have windows overlooking it--before it's all snow-covered, I hope.

Tales from Turtle Woman Ceramic Studio

When I went out in the back yard Monday, I noticed this little flag had been stuck in the ground. I am glad that the ATT people were considerate enough to re-latch the gate so our dachshund would not make a run for the neighbor's house!

Yesterday saw a little more progress on the creation of the studio. The Field Supervisor and, I think, lead carpenter came over and removed the door jamb and the basement door, preparing for the mason, who should have come today to begin the next phase. (It's already a bit after 4:30 and s/he still hasn't arrived.)

My attempt to upload the pictures seems to have failed, so I will have to try again later tonight or tomorrow. (Sorry, Dear Readers! I have to make supper and then it's off to a meeting of the FITWIGs--our writers' group.)

It's now after 5. I just called Greg, the Field Supervisor, and told him that the mason hadn't shown up.  He said he would check into it and get back to me tonight or tomorrow.... Well, that may be okay, but I'm worried that mice or worse--rats--will invade the basement because the temporary plywood over the door is not a tight seal. Lions and tigers and bears!!! Oh, my!

Tales from Turtle Woman Ceramic Studio

SATURDAY, AUGUST 21, 2010


Episode I: The De-construction of the Storage Shed


I have a timeline from the contractor. “Week of 8/16: Tear Down Shed; Week of 8/23: Masonry and concrete work; Week of 8/30: Build out.” I got a bit edgy by Wednesday when I hadn’t heard from anyone, but the contractor reassured me that all was well, that the crew was on schedule. Today was the day! Because I had to gallery sit at THE Fine Art Gallery in Milwaukee's Historic Third Ward (I am one-tenth owner and display my ceramic sculptures there. More about this later), I was present for the beginning of the demolition. When I came home, I saw the fine subtraction! We've lived in our house-become-home for thirty-five years. The shed was built over the stairway to the basement and I've stored the lawn mower and a varied assortment of pots and garden tools there. We don't have a garage, so it's a little problematic where we'll end up keeping things until the addition is completed and we can store them underneath the studio. At present, the lawnmower is in the basement--which is difficult and not really a solution because it's going to be hard for me to get the lawnmower up and down the inside basement steps. Oh, well.... Here are the before and after pictures:

This is how our storage shed has looked for years, maybe a century.

This is the work in progress. My studio will be 18 feet across the width of the house and extend out 11 feet.

Tales from Turtle Woman Ceramic Studio: Prologue

I am a ceramist living on Milwaukee's Lower East Side. I make relatively small figurative, narrative pieces. For years I worked in a small pantry, but we needed a powder room on the first floor. Now I work in the kitchen. I first began working in clay on February 2, 1982. I made a small coil pot in the shape of a snake and inside I etched the word : ”Hiss-tory.” And it was….an historic moment for me. In recent years, our kitchen table has doubled as work space for my ceramic creations and my culinary masterpieces. When the sculpting process is completed, I must make a rather precarious trip balancing the green clay sculpture in my arms as I descend into the basement to my kilns. Often I have wished for a real work place—what Virginia Woolf referred to as “a room of one’s own.” Now, through thrift, perseverance, and some luck, at last my studio is going to become a reality.

I have decided to document the progress of my studio, which I’m tentatively calling Turtle Woman Ceramic Studio, as it literally materializes. I will try to upload pictures, as well, but it might take me a while to get the process figured out. This is the eve of the beginning of the work. Tomorrow marks the demolition of a small shed with basement access at the rear of our house. Next week the foundation cement work will be done.  The following week--the week of August 30, will herald the beginning of the actual construction. So the tale begins. I am hoping the story will spin smoothly, like a well-centered hunk of clay, “at the still point in the turning world….”

August 20, 2010
DWRZ