Not 'Dutch courage' Dutch help!

Once Upon A Time .... (this will be a continuing story)

following a curious ad on a noticeboard in a little country supemarket this potter bought a very nice Heinz Welte German made kiln from an elderly dutch potter deep, deep in the Wheatbelt of Western Australia.  The lady's house, with its own airstrip, as ye do, was nestled almost invisibly in the countryside and so far from the local township we actually got lost for hours trying to find the main road again.  The kiln sits in my garage waiting to be relocated to a permanent spot and Henry uses it as a temporary shelf for various cans and tools.  Nobody else wanted her stuff - her entire studio full of ceramic materials and tools - nobody wanted to travel that far down so many twisty winding roads, to even have a peep.  Too hard!  It is near a place we visit often so we just happened to be nearby occasionally.  Health issues had turned her from potting to painting and she would have to return to Europe shortly because Australia didn't want her or her husband anymore because his job was not permanent and due to their age, although they'd lived here productively for years.  It is savage but true.  I bought a good few other items, but it was clear that the rest would go into the skip if nobody else turned up.  A month later, we hired a van from our neighbours, recently moved here from India, to pick up the kiln. Juliette (the lovely old lady) actually gave me almost all of her materials and bits because she felt they'd be properly used and appreciated - and that is the point of this post as you will see.  The Indian neighbours hadn't seen deep Aussie country like this before and were enthralled.  This is some of what I got ...

Now, here I am knee deep, literally, in the annual clear out of my little garden studio. Dead spiders are trapped and dehydrated on their own webs, rendering them unthreatening collateral damage of the hot summer.  Leathery dried, shrunken skinks and their abandoned eggs no longer upset me much, they get chucked on the garden beds as a kind of cathartic, karmic compost.  I haven't seen any of our blue tongue lizards yet this summer but a recent slithering movement under the lemon tree then under the avocado tree may have been a bluey.  I just hope it wasn't a rat or - Oh GAWD, a snake. That is what would most likely get me to reconsider Australia as my home.   We Dublin girls aren't all that tough you know.  

I am still unpacking all that Juliette gave me, figuring out what it is, and where it should go.  Bless her methodical and thorough ways, it was all packed carefully so it wouldn't budge or get damaged, the cardboard and polystyrene boxes are all labelled - in Dutch.  There's the rub as Shakespeare once wrote.  As you see from the photos, a tiny fraction of what I have, they are in Dutch and I cannot read, speak or even curse in Dutch.  I have one potter I can ask but if you can help, please do.  I have heaps more!  I have tried Google translate but it was not too helpful or relevant.

Juliette told me her Grandfather (or great grandfather) had been a very accomplished potter/artist, and I have a few things with his name on them so they must be very old.  I wouldn't be surprised if some of the things she passed on to me had been his once.  So you can see why it is a bit special and not just a 'good score'.