Today is National Paint Pottery In Your Own Front Yard Day

I certainly hope you remembered.

36 Comments on “Today is National Paint Pottery In Your Own Front Yard Day”

  1. Ah, how I envy your quaint Northern Hemisphere customs. Down here, it’s National Huddle By The Fire and Listen to the Wind Howl Like a Banshee Day.

  2. Curses! Foiled on my aspirations for pottery ownership.

    Wait, I’ve got pottery, it’s sitting on the concrete. Liar!

  3. In my family, we celebrated ‘National Sit On the Patio and Look at Old Yearbooks Day.’ Thirtieth-year reunion coming up- we figured we’d better brush up on these people.

  4. Dammit! I thought it was Finally Play That Copy of Crackdown You Bought Months Ago Day.

    I hate it when I celebrate the wrong holiday.

  5. Here in San Jose it’s home made pulled pork and adult beverages on the patio in the backyard day.

  6. I thought today was “Going on a picnic with my family Day” but ended up being “Rolled my wheelchair out onto the soft grass and got stuck until my brother showed up 30 minutes later and pulled my dumbass back onto the path Day”. These holidays can really sneak up on you.

  7. Down here’n Greene County it was “Annual Clean The Dang House and Find the Floor” day.

    I think yours was more entertaining.

  8. I like the look of terracotta pots, but recently learned that they lose so much water through their porous walls that daily watering is indicated in hot weather.

    Are the pots being painted to reduce transpiration? Does it work? What kind of paint?

    What, you mean this isn’t the gardening forum?

  9. I spent the day with friends. Bought California rolls (fake sushi) for one friend who was at work and had a birthday on Friday and then went to see “Up” with a former co-worker who is now a friend.

  10. I am grateful my wife doesn’t follow this Blog. Would be dragging me to Color Me Blind to make a plate or something there.

    But in any event. Today is : Sit on your ass, read books, veg, and enjoy life day. No pottery. To freaking hot outside.

  11. csdaley – C.S. Daley was born in California but has spent most of his life in his imagination. His first short story written in third grade, the now classic "Close Encounters of the Turd Kind," was sold to his next door neighbor for a quarter. The neighbor promptly demanded a refund. An unhealthy obsession with the writings of Neil Gaiman, Christopher Moore, and Terry Pratchett have left his mind warped and broken. He spends most of his evening swilling down coffee while tapping at a keyboard under the watchful eyes of his kittens. They are there to make sure he doesn't snap. He likes to write fantasy for adults and teens.
    Christopher

    I knew I was forgetting something.

  12. For me it was “there’s a black bear in the yard so let’s play something indoors instead” day. Mind you, we get a lot of those round here so it only counts as a real holiday when it’s a grizzly.

  13. Wait. Today wasn’t National Change the Shocks On Your Wife’s Car Day?

    I could have been “painting pottery” or whatever the kids are calling it nowadays?

    Damn it.

  14. Saturday was ‘sample vegan cake day’; Sunday: ‘poke a stick at the spare room in the vain hope it’ll tidy itself day’.
    Today it is mostly, ‘staring at a computer screen and wishing your boss would have an original thought day’. This one comes around more often than you’d think.

  15. I just cut a deal with my neighbor. She’s going to take over the light gardening of my flowerbeds, I’m going to carry all the pottery I inherited with this house to her house… and she considers this a win-win. I consider it a loss that it took me 3 years of living here to strike this deal. So technically, I’m no longer the owner of any pottery to paint.

  16. That image is suspiciously picturesque. Are you taking pictures of strangers in the park again, Mr. Scalzi?

  17. No, no, no. It is National Paint Pottery In Your Screen Porch Because If You Do It In The Front Yard, Mosquitoes The Size of Hummingbirds Will Suck You Dry and Leave A Bag Of Skin And Bones Day.

    Jeez, get it right.

  18. OK, is that a straight picture, or is it Photoshopped? Almost looks like it’s passed through a photoshop filter, but I honestly can’t tell.

    And any day involving painting pottery in the yard must be a good day.

  19. Deborah @ 12:
    On “Annual Clean The Dang House and Find the Floor” day.

    I’m right there with you…had a clean the house and find the dining room table AND the couch day! Found both, they were still there! It’s a miracle!!!

  20. Why not just put down a drop cloth and paint your potty in the bathroom? Seems a lot simpler.

    Oh! pottERy. I gotta get new glasses or something.

  21. Dang. I always get that confused with “Smash Pottery in the Backyard Day.” I was never good in Catechism.

  22. Good luck. My experience and observation have been that painted terra-cotta flowerpots start looking increasingly dismal after a few weeks — but that’s always involved growing plants in the pots.

  23. changterhune – Before you hear lies from Chang Terhune himself, we thought we’d tell you the truth: without us, his old action figures, he’d be nowhere. He loved science fiction from way back and began reading it at an early age, but it was through us that he acted it all out. That’s what led to the writing. He watched a lot of science fiction shows like Star Trek, U.F.O, and movies, too. But we were always there to do his bidding. And it’s like they say: you always forget about the little people on your way up. Oh, the 70’s and early 80’s with him were good times! He’d use these blocks and make all the crazy buildings for us to be in his stories. I gotta say the kid’s imagination was pretty damn fertile. Oh, he had friends, but they just weren’t into it like him. He was like the Lance Armstrong of action figures. And of science fiction. At first, when he began writing in the eighth grade, we didn’t mind. He still made time for us. And we knew that when he was holding us in his sweaty little hands and he got that far off look in his eye, he’d come back to burying us in the back yard or - god forbid! – blowing us up with firecrackers. But it was worth it for a part in one of those stories. We loved him for it. He kept us around even when we were minus a leg or two - or even a head. In that mind of his, he found a use for all of us. Then he discovered girls. October, 1986. It was like the end of the world. One day we’re standing in the middle of this building block creation he’d pretended was some marble city on a planet near Alpha Centauri and the next we were stuck in a box in the closet. Not even a “See ya later!” Nope, it was into the closet, then we heard some high-pitched girly-giggles then silence. We didn’t see him for years. We got word about him once in a while. Heard he took up writing, but it was crap like “The Breakfast Club” only with better music. We couldn’t believe it. Not Charlie. What happened to those aliens with heads he’d sculpted out of wax? Spaceships? Those complex plots? All gone. For what? You guessed it: Girls. Emotions. “Serious fiction.” I tell you, it was like hearing Elvis had left the building. During our two decade exile in the closet, we heard other things about him. He went to college. He wrote a lot, but not much he really liked. We knew it even then. It was like he didn’t dare write science fiction. Some of us had lost hope and just lay there. Others kept vigil, hoping for a day we didn’t dare speak about. Then we heard he’d stopped writing in 1996. Did he come to reclaim us? No. He took up music for ten years or so. He took up yoga. Once in a while, he’d visit us in the closet. But it was half-hearted. His mind was elsewhere. Then one day, he really did come back for us. One second we’re in the dark and the next thing we know we’re in a car headed for Massachusetts. Suddenly we got a whole shelf to ourselves out in broad daylight! Then he bought a bunch of others form some planet called Ebay. He’d just sit and stare at us with that old look. But why were we suddenly back in the picture? He had a wife now, who didn’t mind that he played with us. So what had happened? Turns out he’d never forgotten about those stories. He’d been thinking about all of us and the stories he’d made up and then remembered he’d been a writer once. From the shelf we could see him typing away. Before long he’s got a whole novel together! Then he’s working on another one. Word is there are two more in the planning stages! Some short stories, too! It’s good to see him using his imagination again. Its good to know he never abandoned us. He returned to his true love of science fiction. We hear the stories are pretty good. Someday we’ll get one of the cats to score us a copy of the manuscript. Man, it’s good to be out of the damn closet! --- I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me I'm smarter than you I'm harder than you I'm better than you I'm just raw I'm hotter than you More popular than you More clever than you And goshdarn it, people like me
    Ch-Chang

    I had a hard time telling which one was Athena and which was Krissy, Destroyer of Worlds. Looks like a fine time.

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