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Today Lanier Meaders' kiln and pottery studio are right across the road from where the Old Meaders Homeplace used to stand (where the Meaders Brothers were raised)...in Cleveland, Georgia. However, not too far away you can find an old dusty winding dirt road which will take you deep into an isolated wooded area.  Here you will find the collapsed and deteriorating remains of where Lanier's ORIGINAL KILN was built many years ago.  Rusty, twisted portions of jagged tin roofing cover the ground alongside termite assaulted timbers. Old boards, a few pieces of broken crocks and jugs, an old metal bucket, rusted through in several places, discolored metal rings which used to hold together the staves of an oak barrel...ALL covered and entwined in twisting vines, secreted within the cool purple shadows of thick, leafy dew-moistened wild foliage. And there, at one end of what was once a sturdy protective shed, stands the BEAUTIFUL ORIGINAL KILN...still intact....like an abandoned SHRINE,  to the perseverance and ingenuity of the Potter. With only a few of its hundreds of bricks having loosened and fallen away, the integrity of the structure and color and form are unchanged. Here and there rays of filtered sunlight make it through the emerald canopy of the forest and dance, glimmering on the yellow gold brickwork of that marvelous wood-fired kiln.

I sit in silence on a mossy fallen log...and Listen to THE STORY the Remains Whisper to my Imagination.  I can see those timbers standing erect and strong...the tin roof secured on stout handmade joists...protecting Lanier's workshop...his greenware, his tools...and the Potter Himself.  I see lanky young Lanier cramming dry wood into the lower chambers as the brilliant ravenous flames rapidly devour the logs Lanier himself had dragged from the forest and split with the ax.  And above the inferno...within the belly of the kiln...on handformed racks...sit clay vessels stacked behind the bricked-up oven "door".  I see the thickest black smoke rolling and churning from that chimney and engorging the tree tops above....while loading the forest breezes below with the pungent smell of burning wood.  Then the imagined sound of crackling firewood brings me back to the present...and I leave this place with a sense of reverence...realizing I had experienced a few moments of American History...in person.  I am grateful for Today's Southern Potters who are carrying on the Tradition of Lanier and the Meaders Family of Cleveland, Georgia...as well as for the Southern Pottery Collectors Worldwide...who Truly Appreciate this Wonderful Element of Americana!!  

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The Miracle of Birth

Goat Lady kept herself busy all day long, while keeping an eye on her Beautiful Daisy.  Daisy was Goat Lady's beloved milk cow, and Daisy was due to become a mother once again.  Goat Lady knew the calf would soon be dropped.  "Land Sakes!" Goat Lady smiled while sharing her speculations with Best Friend  Lucy, her white German Shepherd. "It's the night of the Full Moon, so I reckon Daisy will see her new youngun' this very night!"  And sure as shootin'...The Full Moon had barely cleared the ridge over the Southfork River when the sound of bovine bellows rode the warm breezes that caressed Goat Lady's Little Dog Shelter Farm!  Goat Lady hurried to the barn with appropriate equipment that she might be prepared for any unexpected situation.  But ALL went quite smoothly indeed.  And as the newborn calf emerged into its BRAND NEW WORLD, there befell a reverent and awesome Silence...right there in the barnyard and beside the creek. A hush  embraced each and every one of Goat Lady's Animal Family...including the wild critters which had come to feed on the wild Muscadine grapes. That Beautiful Silent Night, ALL the Creatures...Great and Small...were enraptured by... the Miracle of Birth!!

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