32 Years and a Hot Box: Our Anniversary Glass Blowing Adventure

For our 32nd anniversary, my husband and I did something a little different: we set ourselves on fire. Okay — not quite. But we did spend an afternoon making blown glass in a very hot room at Ignis Glass Studio in Chattanooga, and it might be my favorite thing we've done in years.

We had the best time working with Chris Mosey, who walked us through the whole process and then — bravely — handed us the tools and let us try it ourselves. It started with the fun part: choosing our colors from these bowls of crushed glass, like the world's most dangerous candy buffet.

Then came the heat. You gather molten glass on the end of a long pipe and keep it moving in the furnace — and here's where the studio's nickname earns its keep. They call it the hot box, and on an already-toasty summer day, let me tell you, the name is not a metaphor. We came out a little glowy ourselves.

There's something humbling and thrilling about working with material that's literally glowing. You can't muscle it or rush it; you have to keep it turning and trust the process (a theme I keep running into lately). Chris made it look effortless — which, of course, is the mark of someone who's done it ten thousand times.

In between trips to the furnace, Chris got curious about the two of us and started asking how on earth we'd stayed married 32 years. He turned it over for a while, weighed the evidence, and came around to a theory we happen to share: you keep things fun. Throw a few adventures into the mix, keep saying yes to the next one — and, as Chris put it, keep the girl happy. Honestly, that's how we ended up sweating over a furnace on our anniversary in the first place. Smart man.

We each left with a piece to mark the milestone. My husband made a globe paperweight for his desk, and I made a globe bud vase. I love that we made them at the same benches, on the same hot day, celebrating the same 32 years.

That photo is my vase fresh off the pipe, still hot enough to glow. We were leaving town the next day, so Chris mails the pieces once they've fully cured and cooled — which means the big reveal is still coming. I'll share photos of both finished pieces once they arrive (and I'll try very hard not to drop them).

Here's to 32 years, a great teacher, a few more adventures on the list, and a brand-new pair of glass globes to treasure. More to come — literally, in the mail.