Muddy Village

I have many fond memories of my childhood.  I grew up in a magical time before smart phones, computers, youtube, and video games (except maybe Pong or Asteroids).  I don't recall being bored.  "I'm bored" is a very typical thing said from child to parent these days.  Maybe I'm not remembering correctly, but I don't think we said that much and even if we did, keeping a child entertained is not part of a parent's job description.

We did a lot of things wrong as kids, but it didn't include sitting around bored with nothing to do.  We went outdoors and found something to do.  We lived on 5 acres in the piney woods.  That 5 acres seemed like a vast wilderness area of uncharted territory just begging to be explored.  We had very vivid imaginations and those 5 acres one day might be the Wild West frontier.  On another day it transformed into Vietnam or a field of battle in the Revolutionary war. We made trails and forts and camps.  We dug holes, tunnels, and caves, built ramps for our bikes, obstacle courses, and zip lines.  We hunted.  We dug sassafras roots and made tea.  We set the woods on fire.  We made up games in which we'd try to knock the guy on the mini bike off with a pine cone - pine cones that hadn't opened yet.  Those things hurt when they hit you!

From time to time I'll remember something else about my childhood that 35 or so years have obscured and the other day I thought about Muddy Village.  When I was at my Mom & Dad's house the other day, I located an artifact from Muddy Village that Mom (amazingly!) had saved.  Take a look:

Muddy Village Pottery

In looking at this creation, one might think that you are looking at ancient pottery that we had unearthed from a primitive people group.  You'd be only partially correct. While it is from a primitive people group (me, my brother, and my sister), we didn't unearth it.  We made it - fashioned it with our own bare hands.  Then we painted it. This one is appropriately painted with a Radioactive Green hue.

Let me back up and explain about Muddy Village.  Since we lived in the country, we weren't connected to a city sewer.  All of the sewerage was treated in a septic system and then the overflow was piped out into a ditch which flowed slowly into an area that we called Muddy Village.  Sweet gum trees grew tall and healthy around Muddy Village for a reason I now understand more fully.  It was real shady and with all the trees in the area, Muddy Village was prime real estate for making camps and forts. One day we were chopping down a sweet gum tree with an axe and I heard a menacing buzzing sound.  We looked up and were chased from the area by angry hornets that occupied a hornet nest as big as a basketball in the tree we were trying to fell.  Once they calmed down we went back, undeterred, to building our fort in Muddy Village.  In the winter, we were able to retrieve the hornet nest and it made for a cool conversation piece.

Behold our Pottery

Back to the story, though.  Entrepreneurs try to build their factories next to their raw materials to save on transportation expenses.  We were no different.  We were young entrepreneurs that had a pottery enterprise that needed clay - or sewerage mud, to be more accurate, and we were right on the banks of more sewerage mud than you could shake a stick at.  Location.  Location.  Location.  Muddy Village was its own Industrial Park - a hotbed of Economic Development right there beside our home. We didn't need a grant. Why, we were granted with free abundant raw materials to ply our trade.  Titans of industry, we were.

Just look at the artistry!

We didn't have a mold to form our pottery.  Each one was different, unique, special. Our overhead was low, and we didn't need a start-up loan. Our pottery creations each had their own personality, if you will, and could be used for any use that you could imagine.  A bud vase, perhaps.  We could really see these things being big sellers.  We just needed to perfect our product, refine the manufacturing process, market it and the rest would take care of itself.

I wonder how much this creation is worth?

In retrospect, I don't know if we didn't market our pottery hard enough, or if people were reluctant to purchase pottery made from sewerage mud or if it was just an idea that was ahead of its time.  Lots of things we did weren't appreciated or understood for some reason.  Our Muddy Village Pottery never really got off the ground and I don't fully understand why.

All we've got left to show for it is our prototype that Mom kept.  Some might say our pottery talents stink. Or that our pottery stinks.  Who knows what this would be worth if I'd take it to the Antiques Road Show? I think Muddy Village Pottery is priceless!  But sometimes an artist is a bit biased when critiquing their creations.  This is a good reminder that we're all clay in the Potter's hands.  Though we may be imperfect, smelly, and unattractive, we can still be useful and bring the Potter great joy.  I'm off to wash my hands...