Wheel thrown and altered in obscene heat

During the past unseasonably moderate and delightfully long spring, I had a delusional idea that I would make and bisque pots on the screened-in porch all summer long. Given the heat, however, I've abandoned hope of being productive. Right now, six greenware wheel-thrown-and-altered (see below) oval boxes--my total home output since the DT-MSH/TC--are slowly warping as they half dry/half bake in the 100+^oF temps outside.* I could work in the basement, where it's cooler, but it's kind of gross having ten thousand camel crickets looking over my shoulder while I'm at the wheel. Someday I'll build a four-season studio in the back yard.

Incidentally, "wheel thrown and altered" is one of my favorite pottery catch phrases. Look for it in photograph captions in select pottery books and magazines. Under an image of an elaborate pot in the shape of, say, a perfectly proportioned nautilus shell or a sassy teapot or a Tyrannosaurus Rex, the accompanying explanatory text might read (simply, mysteriously, and uselessly) "wheel thrown and altered."

I'll come clean: the boxes above were each made with three thrown components--an ovaled wall, a ribbed lid insert (all six inserts were harvested from one thrown piece), and a flange to hold the lid in place--plus a tossed slab for the bottom. Voila: wheel thrown and altered.

*It could be worse. I was at Claymakers yesterday, where the gas kiln was running and the air conditioner was broken. When I left, the 99^oF outside air actually felt refreshingly cool.