Dad's ceramic lighthouse
could be yours for the asking.

I lost count of how many times my father offered me one of his ceramic toilet seat clocks.

“I don’t want a clock in the bathroom,” I said. “Don’t want the pressure.”

All the “johnny clocks” found a home, along with ceramic umbrella containers; planters; frog-shaped glass holders; Christmas and Halloween villages; pasta dishes; platters; deer, ducks, cats and other animals not in scale to one another; deviled egg servers; watermelon-shaped fruit bowls; Passover plates; electric Hanukkah menorahs; and a chess set. On a shelf in the newsroom is what may be, by virtue of its size, his masterpiece: an electrically lit lighthouse (which could be gifted to an appreciative recipient; proximity to water or an electrical outlet not required).

But my father retired from painting ceramics before he’d painted all the pieces he’d acquired. And the other day I decided it was time to find a better place than my basement for the lone member of the Seven Dwarfs, the Halloween village, the pure white Donald Duck and a plastic bin full of other unpainted critters.

The Saratoga Springs senior center — technically the “Adult and Senior Center” —was happy to have them, and that made me happy.