If Rainie could talk, I’m sure there are times that she’d be saying, “I told you so!”
This happened again today. I was up in my ceramics room trying to create feet on the bottoms of some nearly finished bowls when Rainie began alerting. I sensed she might be right because my balance and depth perception seemed a little bit off. Upon doing my blood sugar I discovered that I was slowly dropping, so proceeded to eat a snack, and went back to work. I wanted to push through and get this job done. The dryness of the clay was just right – not too hard and not too soft. But despite my intentions, she kept alerting! I felt fine. I had just eaten and needed to get my ceramics work done! That was until I cut right through the semi-dry bowl with a semi-sharp tool. She was right. I hadn’t sensed that my blood sugar had continued to drop and I wasn’t feeling how unstable I’d become.
As I tossed down my tools and took off my apron in pure frustration, Rainie flopped down on the floor with an exasperated sigh which loudly stated, “I TOLD YOU SO!”
Rainie and I have been busy getting ready for my 2nd annual fundraising ceramics sale for Early Alert Canines. This is an exciting time – I’m spending what feels like hours a day throwing pots, waiting for pieces to dry, glazing and firing in my kiln. And Rainie is always ‘on alert’, warning me when my blood sugars are changing – which they do a lot while I’m working with the clay and throwing on the potter’s wheel.
All proceeds of this sale go towards the training of the dogs and teams at EAC. Being a non-profit organization, we are always in the process of fundraising. Fortunately I can help while doing something I love.
Last weekend’s fundraiser for Early Alert Canines was incredibly successful! I left the house with five large boxes full of my pottery, and the few pieces I cam home with didn’t even cover the bottom of one. I couldn’t believe the attention my pottery (and Rainie) received! The compliments were gratifying – I’d never done a big show like this. Many people asked if I’d be back next weekend, or before Christmas. I had to tell them I hoped to be back next year. I knew that I was offering over a year’s worth of work, and there would be no way I could do it again any time soon.
As I was wrapping each piece to get ready for the show, I realized how unique each one was. Some were thin, others heavy and clunky. There were different shapes and heights and weights, even when I had tried to make a matched set. Some people commented, and I told them that when I pick up a piece, I can tell what my blood sugar was doing while I was throwing/creating it. When my glucose levels are changing rapidly (either up or down), my coordination and balance are affected. When my blood sugar is high, I can’t control my strength very well; and when it is going low, I have poor depth perception, no frustration tolerance, and it’s best if I quit for the day.
When people make remarks like, “You know, you could have made this thinner/taller/bigger…(etc),” I sigh, and try to remember that, considering all I’m dealing with, I’m doing the best I can – always. And often times, people will choose to buy the piece we’re talking about, because their knowing the ‘history’ behind it makes “even more special”.