I pull up to the old elementary school. No longer filled with giggling children but instead a union of small businesses embracing a new use for a forgotten space. I see signs for bicycle repair, hypnotherapy, and what I’ve come here for—pottery. I can feel the butterflies fluttering around in my stomach, a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. Potte…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to Saucy Tart Society to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.