Laundry

I brought my pottery garb home this weekend to wash it. It was all so caked in clay that I'd get more clay on me than off me when I'd use it. Pulling it out of the laundry I noticed that it mostly consists of hand me downs. I have a big green shirt I wear over my street clothes that I saved from my youngest son's throw away pile, a green towel wrap with his name on it given to Rick by a former girlfriend - he prefers to walk around nude :-) - pulled from a similar pile that I place over my lap to use when I'm at the wheel, and a ragged white towel another student left at the studio that I try to keep clean enough to dry my hands when I'm done for the day. The only new piece is a canvas apron with a split in the center, to cover my jeans when at the wheel. Regardless, I still come home with clay in my hair, on my clothes and white clay dust up and down my arms. I guess that's just part of the charm.