Should I buy the bowl? I dithered. I love bowls – they are Useful Things.
I picked it up. I put it back.
We chose some smoked fish and paid for it.
I looked at the bowl again on the way out.
Behind me a voice said “I made that.”
We talked briefly.
The potter left the shop.
I bought the bowl.
Later, as we walked towards the quayside I met the potter with her husband. “Did you buy it?” she asked.
She shook my hand and told me she has thirteen grandchildren and is delighted that one of them is to study physics because her husband was a physicist. She has sailed through Russia. Nursing care is expensive. She lives by the church.
She would have told me more but the rain was about to fall.
She was off at speed, pushing her husband in the wheelchair, overtaking the tourists meandering through Orford.
We walked to the bakery to buy sourdough bread to eat with our smoked fish.
Tomorrow I shall take my bowl that Margo Glaister made and fill it with tomatoes from the greenhouse.