The ugly pot

Isn't really a pot. It's a jardiniere minus the base.

I always called it the ugly pot and loved it as a kid. I'd never seen anything so exotic looking. I would sit and look at the colors and the cobalt blue was always my favorite. For as long as I can remember, the neck has been held together with wire and the chip in the rim has always been there.

My granny had this pot in her closet, probably to keep it safe from kids. We kids would get into the closet and sit on an old army footlocker stacked with quilts and pretend we were riding a train. This pot was where our train tickets were deposited. Such imaginations.

Mom told me that she could remember it being on her grandparent's farm when she was a little girl.
The bottom is marked T.F. & S L(d) England.

A little sleuthing on the internet told me that this was the mark of Thomas Forrester & Sons Ltd of the Phoenix Pottery, Longton, Stafford-
shire (1883-1959). Piecing together what little we know about it, Mom and I think it's probably from the late 20s to early 30s.

The ugly pot proudly sits on the treadle of my granny's sewing machine. To say it's fragile is an understatement. While dusting it the other day I noticed that the entire bottom is loose and could come off at any time. Over the years bit and pieces have come loose from the sides and so I try to handle it as little as possible. I fear that one day I'll go in and the entire thing will have crumbled to dust.