Day 9 - Golden October

I have no idea what any of that meant, but I've got an electrical hazard story for you. My late husband, who was always right and never wrong, was once given a ceramic kiln Kilns draw more power than dryers. Well, this one lacked a ... pigtail, I think that's the technical term. The plug that goes into the wall socket. Did he acquire a pigtail for it? No, he wired it directly into its own switch in the circuit breaker box, spliced the kiln to the wire coming out of the box a few inches off a "pathway" between stuff on the basement floor (which was damp most of the year and flooded lightly after every rain, but that's another story) and covered the bare wires of the splice with one of his "seconds" bowls. Most of the time, of course, the circuit breaker was turned off, but still... some deep part of me was sure electricity was leaking out onto that damp basement floor anyway!
I guess it sort of spoils the story, but the whole arrangement worked perfectly, with nary an electrical mishap. But I did NOT like to go down and check on the progress of a firing when the juice was flowing!
 

This is very moving. I like the way you handled the tombstone, respecting the identity of the child but establishing that this is the grave of a child, and I like the inclusion of the aged stone in the background to give it a place in the depth of time. A very poignant picture, and ... well, I guess the sentiment is universal but not this exact expression, but it certainly casts a wide net. Google leads me to believe Windlesham is in England, but it could have been taken anywhere in the Midwest.
 
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