After my last excursion to the pottery emporium I sat down and grimly confessed to myself that I am a huge pottery faggot. The first step is admitting you have a problem; the second step is to buy a proper cupboard for the stuff.
Fortuitously I had a belated Christmas check from a friend who over-estimates the various random favors I have done her and a catalogue informing me that The Perfect Cupboard, which I had been contemplating for a year or two, had just been marked down to half price, so now there is a perfectly proportioned piece of furniture in the corner of my dining room and this odd drogit, a part of the packaging designed to protect the cupboard’s feet and general under-ness, tucked away in my cellar.
After I had extruded the rest of the packaging — Styrofoam and corrugated cardboard corners and all the rest of it — this little dingus was just too elegant to discard; it looks as if it is longing to be made into something, perhaps a ladder for cats to climb to a perch, or a triple frame for yet-to-be-painted pictures, or – well WTF? What do you think I should do with it?