It took f-o-r-e-v-e-r for the kiln to cool down enough to check on the semi-distressed blue tiles I put in at first light this morning. I swung by the kiln after picking my son up from school. He wanted to stay in the car, but we're in the middle of an oppressive heat wave.
"We don't even leave the dogs in the car on days like this, Buddy. It's too hot," I explained.
Dutifully, he exited the car and followed me into the small garage studio in a friend's back yard. We opened the door and were immediately bowled over by a cloud of heat.
"I'd have been better off in the car, Mom," my son said. "I wouldn't bring the dogs in here."
I approached the lid...
...and slowly opened it, revealing:
The top row of what would prove to be beautiful tiles that were not only shinier, but richer in color. But for the time being, the heat forced a retreat. I returned after dinner, and oh-so-carefully removed the toasty tiles. That was three hours ago--and the box is still hot.