I'm so excited at who's coming!!!
Provided the postal service doesn't actually "go postal" and porch pirates don't strike and everything goes smoothly.
And since I'm not one of those chicks who gets pregnant every other day or host house parties weekly, you know when I say "who" that I must be talking about a piece of magical or laboratory equipment. Right?
Yup.
Cast-iron antique cauldron complete with lid, gypsy strong-pot
Two days ago (16th) I ordered this exquisite little creature from a fellow I've been corresponding with on eBay. It's a perfect size for small-batch magical potistry, and this Ligo Walker fellow from Portugal informs me that food cooked in it is very tasty. Just to be safe, I wrote a request for sign-off package delivery, where you have to be present for a parcel to be left at an address, which I hope will forestall any "porch piracy", something the mailman warned me about in this neighborhood.
The shape of a potbellied cauldron is designed to hold in heat, particularly important when your heat source is fickle or low-power, like coals or a flame. Tall legs mean I can easily place a heat-source underneath it for portable brewing; I don't need to be leaning over a gas range. (Now, why do I keep coming back to that word portable? Maybe because in recent years I've had to move so much, or is it simply the dream of having an apothecary and lab immediately on hand wherever I go?)
This cauldron costed $46.60, and because cast iron is heavy, the shipping was $28.80! Cauldrons, good ones, are not cheap. You want a quality cauldron, not a shitty cheap-arse one. Because how long will a quality cauldron like this one last if well cared for? Multiple lifetimes. So that seventy-odd bucks becomes negligible over time, and worth it.
It took guts to make the order. I had a foul experience some years ago when a cauldron I ordered arrived a month after I purchased, and the cardboard box was battered into a nearly spherical shape. It was so dirty, the address was barely legible; it was a miracle it had made it. Except, it hadn't: It had been packed only with, I counted them, seventeen styrofoam peanuts, and one of the legs had broken off, leaving a hole . . . and an iron lump useless for brewing. The seller was notably snippy and unpleasant in writing to deal with. What could I do, but swallow the (thankfully not high) cost, and leave negative feedback! (As I recall, I sent off a little curse with the feedback by using the written address as a link, though this was basically unnecessary.)
That, and learn my lesson, which my world-wise father only reinforced: If that feedback rating doesn't say one hundred percent --- as in, not even 98-point-something --- then I don't buy. This fellow does have a 100% rating, and communication by email has been pleasant and reassuring, even though I did voice my fears from previous experience. "My boxes are strong and built to withstand shipping cast iron, and I've sold a number of pots like this," he wrote back.
So I've taken a chance on Ligo and taken his offer, hoping it's a good one. In part because it's just about perfect, and also I've noticed a distinct lack of cast iron cauldrons in my part of the world, even in antique markets! The fact that it has a lid is merely an added bonus to what looks like an already high-quality item, good for many a stew and many a brew.
And just for the sake of respect, for both this little pot and all other cooking and brewing implements of its particular species:
And yes, if I catch you drilling holes in a cauldron to make a "planter", I will haunt you as the spirit of Professor Snape himself and have your bollocks for potions ingredients, you obscene dunderhead. Double if you ship iron items so badly on eBay they arrive with holes in the bottom!
At the same time I discovered this find, I was looking at other, larger cauldrons, all of them reputable and intact antiques, such as these from thirteen to twenty inches in diameter:
Baltimore 6 gallon, 15" in diameter:
Baltimore 20" in dia.:
Wood, Bishop and Company, 14" in dia.:
As I mentioned before, one dream of mine is to host small group and community healing and bonding circles around a large cauldron, with everyone able to take both an active role in making and enjoying the resulting potion. But I haven't taken the plunge and purchased one yet. As I said, they don't come cheap: These run from 150 to 250 dollars, then there's the shipping! I do recommend one thing: A good time to buy any cauldron is now --- diametrically across the calendar from Halloween. No matter how that last cauldron is being marketed, for example, I don't need no spooky holiday to brew me some potions!
So now all I can do is wait and hope.
A charging and blessing celebration may be imminent!
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