The kiln gods were in a fine mood yesterday. The weather was perfect, we got to temperature, and we didn't hear any pops or crashes from within. There really isn't much to say, other than that my hands are a little achy. I noticed that there is a lot of gripping and holding on to things. Granted, I don't wear gloves for the most part, but even still I don't think that would help. One of the women I fired with said I was trying to be macho, but I like to think that I am not a slave to gender stereotypes.
-Oh yeah, we were mentioned in someone's blog the other day and again were referenced as "two ladies." I really don't mind (hell, I've been living with it all my life), but I do feel kind of bad that some lesbian garden fantasies may be shattered when they discover I pee standing up. Oh well.
Back to the kiln.
What's happening here is that the air is being choked from the kiln, which creates a high-carbon atmosphere. The carbon richness is what will get the clay body brown and toasty.
The flames from the fire box don't simply fill the kiln with a giant ball of fire; what they do is snake through the pots. I could try to explain how this is done, but it would take a while and I'm sure that I would butcher it. However, the flame that is spurting from the chimney is probably well over 60 feet long. At this point someone will call stokes when the flame pulls into the kiln and that signals to whomever is at the firebox to add more wood.