“To my daddy, David Carter,” howled Jenna; I say howled because she cried in the doing of the toast. I wondered what exactly she meant referring t... me as her daddy, but, the scene was still playing out.“To a wonderful nephew,” avowed Aunt Delia.“To a man worthy of the name,” said Stacey. “Oh my yes.”Oh yeah, I was honored as hell. And I was embarrassed, and not in a good way. Toasts, formalism, all of it meant nothing to me, never had. And, all the while my wife, Rozelle Carter, held me back. “Fuck it. It looks like I’m just going to have to experiment until I learn how. If it all breaks, I’ll make some more and try another way. Even if I never succeed in making pottery that will withstand cooking and liquids, I’ll eventually have something to store dry stuff in. Anyway, here goes nothing,” he told Lobo as he began carefully laying the brush on top of what he had learned was called raw-ware or wet-ware.When he had what he thought was enough fuel, he set the wood and brush afire. “I. More

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