Chasing My Tail

There is a reason that I tend to work on only one bead project at a time, unless there is a good, very good reason to jump into another project.

About a month before this past weekend’s show, I set aside my Hungarian Costume to work on small items for the show. As is typical of my work style, boxes and bags of beads are all over the place. I might need beads from 4-5 boxes for one pair of earrings. You know…a crystal from box 1, ear wires from box 2, daggers from box 3 and so on. Tubes and bags of seed beads are strewn about so that I can put together colors I like. Piles of them.

I took yesterday off from work. And today too. For what?

Ok…fine, yesterday, I was pooped. I did not do too much. I didn’t even drag my lazy butt to the gym. I put away a few boxes of beads, did a little general clean-up, then in the afternoon a medical emergency for a family member had me spending hours at the ER. (Gee, too bad I couldn’t have made an appointment and saved some time for my ailing family member. If you read Miserable Mabel’s last post you’ll know what I am talking about!).

Today, I am still putting things away. (I need a BIGGER beadroom with more storage space!!).

The skirt of my Hungarian Costume is laying nicely on the tray. Waiting. Feeling neglected.

The Hungarian Skirt waits for me on my very messy desk

My momentum has flat-lined. I need to get back into the momentum of working on the skirt. It only has 3 colors….but there is a certain rhythm I must develop for it. So many rows, then I create a decrease to make the skirt ruffle. But how many? Its on the graph, but I need to relearn it so it becomes second nature again.

It’s almost like starting a new project. I need a jump start!

Do you have this happen to you? Are you like me, you work best and most efficiently by seeing one project through beginning to end? Or do you have several going on at once, and have no problem jumping from one to the other?

Maybe tonight, I will pick up needle and thread and attack the sea of green of the Hungarian skirt.

It would be better than chasing my tail as I have been doing yesterday and a good part of today!

Back From the Show!!

My booth in Palo Alto

I was just down the street from the non descript
FaceBook Office! Who would know?

The Show in Palo Alto was a joy to do. MLA productions is one of the best show promoters ever. They run an A-1 show in every aspect. From the ease of set up, to the quality of arts, a hospitality booth with LOTS of ice cold bottled water,/soda /juice, coffee, tea, muffins, bagles, fruit and a whole host of other snacks throughout the day free for all the artists to come and help themselves. They even had staff wheel around a stock of cold drinks and snacks to the booths incase you could not leave your spot.

And porta potties for the exclusive use for the artists. Oh the joy of a clean porta pottie at a show!!! Well, as clean as a porta pottie can be!

Sales were not too bad. Not quite as much as I hoped, but enough to make me happy. HORRAY!!! I can set it aside for spending money for my vacation in October! That was my main goal. I was lucky enough to even sell a pile of earrings to a store up in Mendicino! What a thrill it was when the store owners asked me if I would consider selling wholesale! Not Consignment, but SELL!!! Of course I said yes, and they met my terms with no problem, and paid on the spot. How sweet is that!?

Now I can pack away all my beads that I left out, clean up my "studio" and get back to beading my Hungarian Costume that is sitting on my desk feeling neglected!

Scenes of the show

You just gotta love some of the people (and dogs) you see!

There was AMAZING street painting.
This was Sunday Morning

Here it is Sunday Afternoon

The amazing artist who created the Street Painting above!

View down the street

Happy Shoppers in my booth

Lessons My Family Never Intended to Teach Me #8: A Spoonful of Sugar...

Folk remedies are often a part of growing up in a rural culture. When city doctors with city prices are out of reach, people look for remedies that are easily available to them.

My dad in 2010

This was especially true for my dad, and to a lesser extent, my mom. My mom had her folk remedies. One of which was to wrap a sock I wore all day around my neck at night to help cure a sore throat. Having done this on more than one occasion with the smelly feet I tend to have, I am not sure if the dirty sock around my throat cured my sore throat, or if I just stopped complaining about my ailment to avoid the treatment.

My dad’s medicinal approach to my sore throats was much more soothing. A shot of brandy at night did help to numb the pain.

When my dad went to Germany to visit, he always came back home with his “pharmaceuticals”. In part, I think this is where I developed my love of teas. He would have boxes of medicinal teas. There was a tea that was good for the blood, another good for the kidneys, yet another that was good for the liver. There was a tea for almost any ailment.

My dad always drank tea. He was not a coffee drinker at all. Tea was his beverage of choice. I think I am much like him in this regard, although I am not seeking its health benefits as he did.

In addition to the tea, my dad brought back other  miracle cures. One was especially nasty. In a tiny bottle with an eye dropper attached was the worst of the whole lot. ETHER. A couple of tiny drops on a spoonful of sugar did the trick to cure the ailment. What exactly the ailment was, I don’t remember.

I asked my dad recently what he took the ether for. He simply responded that it was good for everything. I seem to remember him saying back then, that it was good to keep the blood healthy.

Ether has a strong smell. Just the few drops deposited on the spoonful of sugar could odorize the whole room. My dad’s breath would smell of ether for at least an hour afterwards.

What did it taste like, you wonder?

I suppose you have guessed (especially if you read the post regarding the pig’s ears) that my dad would insist that I try this remedy. If it was good for him, it would be good for me too, right?

Cornered in the kitchen, with no where to escape to, with no ailment or illness (I have learned not to complain about those things which I could endure), my dad came after me with the spoonful of sugar and the drops of ether, while singing “A SPOONFUL OF SUGAR MAKES THE MEDICINE GO DOWN….”

Yes, I gulped it down. I had no choice. It was HORRIBLE. The organic vapors went up my nose, it made my eyes tear, it felt like fire going down my throat and into my belly.

My mom hearing a commotion came into the kitchen which now with two doses of either having been dispensed smelled like a toxic chemical spill. Lighting a match near either my dad or me while we spoke would have turned us into fire breathing dragons (ether is highly flammable).

She hated this remedy and kicked us both outside until our breaths no longer smelled. I was relieved of having to do the ironing for the day.

“See….” My dad said. "This cured you of being inside to do chores. Now you can be outside and enjoy the sunshine."

I am not so sure that was why he took the ether…but it did make me wonder if it gave him an excuse to escape the house for a bit!

MY LESSON

A spoonful of sugar does not always make the medicine go down easily, but the medicine might have unintended side effects that are better than what the medicine was intended for.

Book Review: Ring A Day: 700 photos from a 365 Day Jewelry Challenge

First, my disclosure....The Publishers at Lark Crafts/Sterling Publishing sent me this book to review on my blog. They do NOT pay me for the review, other than the book(s) that they sent me for review.

Ring A Day: 700 photos from a 365 Day Jewelry Challenge

Marthe Le Van

Sterling Publishing/Lark Crafts

ISBN978-1-60059-824-1

September 2011

5" X 8" paperback 256 pages

$22.95

This book is a collection of photos from a web challenge by a Brooklyn Jeweler. In short, the challenge was for jewelers to create one ring per day for 365 days and post the rings made daily on Flicker. In the course of one year, over 16,000 photos were submitted, along with comments from the artists to provide some insight to the creations.

This sounds like fun. Taking a daily challenge for a month, let alone 365 days can be daunting. Just how many ideas can you come up with? And it would also be a lot of fun tracking the progress and creativity on the web. People can sure come up with some "incredible" projects for a challenge such as this.

So with that said, perhaps I will be committing "professional suicide", but I did promise that I would be honest in my reviews.

Easter Bunny Ring
Nina Dinoff

Sometimes I find modern, edgy art hard to take. I find jewelry with modern edgy influences that are unwearable unless one is a runway model wearing an equally unwearable dress to go with the jewelry,  to be downright unappealing. Have you ever looked at some high end fashion piece and wondered who would wear that? Even so, you could probably appreciate the technique and skill. But to stick you finger through a "Peep" or the rings of a pair of scissors...really??

Emily Watson

No, I a not missing the point of this challenge. It was to see what people could come up with as a ring. There were some bizarre rings. A tiny piece of lemon meringue pie perched on a ring base, someone with dirty finger save for where a real ring was, a crop circle, someone holding a cat's cradle,  and a host of bizarreness of which I can appreciate as a joke or pun on the concept of what constitutes a ring or a piece of jewelry.

Twist Tie Rings
Colleen Baran

Starfish
Kathryn Reichert

There were a handful of rings which I could say I appreciated the artistry of, but by and large most were either too bizarre, or too impractical for me to consider as jewelry (not that "rings" needed to be jewelry, necessarily).

As I said at the beginning, I think Ring a Day would have been loads of fun to follow on the web. I would have smiled at many of the bizarre ideas I scoff at here.

Maybe that is the difference. Sometimes some things should be left on the web for enjoyment. The conversion to a book just does not  give it value unless you were somehow a participant or want a remembrance of the event. 

And For Today's Chuckle.....

How Irish Dancing Started:

Now it makes sense.

Beadin' Demon!

With the ONLY show I am doing this year coming up soon, (Aug 27-28), I have become a Beadin’ Demon. I know I have a lot of stock, even if I don’t make anything new. But I like to have some new items, especially for those customers who are my “regulars” at the art and wine festivals.

Beadin' Demon At Work

The last few weeks I have put aside almost everything (at least what I can get away with) and have done nothing but bead bracelets and earrings. Especially the earrings because they are my bread and butter. New beadwork is beginning to make a nice heap in my “done” pile.

Yes, I am a Beadin’ Demon. How many of you become Beadin’ Demons before a show/bazaar or for the Holidays? Do you know the warning signs of this affliction? These are my top 10 signs that you might have become a Beadin’ Demon:

    10.  You don’t answer the phone because it         will throw you off your speed beading rhythm.

9. Lunch? Dinner? Your family is on their own. If it is not heat and eat, you don’t have time for fixing the hungry masses their rations. You don’t even care if you miss a meal Hey…this might be the best diet ever! Maybe this diet should be patented and sold?

8. You take a day off from your “day job”…just to sit and bead.

7. You have become so fast at your “production” work that you swear you saw the thread smoke as you pull it through the beads. Isn’t that a burn mark on your fingers?

6. Wow!! The calluses on your fingers from beading are incredible. They are so tough that you didn’t even feel the needle and thread go through all 7 layers of skin until you finished that earring and went to start the mate. You have really put yourself “into" your work”!

5. You no longer have room to work on your usual worktable (who has time to put boxes of beads away?). So you have moved over to a different location, AGAIN. Now you have a fortress of boxes and bags of beads surrounding you there too.  At least you have a good excuse for not getting off the chair. You need a ladder to get over the stuff. It could be days before the rescue team finds you!

4. You notice you are nearly through a cone of thread and panic because you have to leave your beading to get new thread. Ditto on that very curvy needle that you no longer want to use.

3. You refer to your reading glasses as beading glasses. Who has time to read, unless it is a bead pattern?

2. You are seriously considering contacting the Guinness Book of World Records. You are sure that you have beaded more earrings in a 24 hour period than anyone else,  dead or alive.

My NUMBER ONE sign that you have become a Beadin’ Demon:

1.  You are contemplating the idea of getting one of those potty chairs so that your beading is not interrupted by the only thing that can get your stationary beading butt off your chair : You just cannot  “hold it” any longer. The call of Nature has won.

Bracelet Pattern Sale

For my blog readers only:

Choose any of my downloadable bracelet books on www.beadedbear.com for 1/2 price!

Do you have them all, already? Then create your own collection. Choose ANY 10  of my bracelet patterns for $22. That's more than 1/2 of the regular price of $5 each!

Email me direct at beadedbear@earthlink.net  for more particulars if you are interested. Sale prices are not
marked on my website.

Sale is offered only through August 21, 2011.

Lessons My Family Never Intended to Teach Me #7: Killer Jeans

When I was really young, my mom and I went to the local Laundromat to wash our clothes. Since she didn’t drive, she would put the baskets of laundry on my radioflyer  and we’d walk to the Laundromat which was about 6 blocks away. In the winter, we would use the sled. It was an adventure for me. Especially when I go to do it all by myself when I was 8 years old.

When I was 12, we moved to a different house. We had our own washing machine! No more Laundromats! My mom was thrilled. It was so much more convenient. A few years later, we also had a dryer. This was remarkable! Clothes could be wash and dried within a few minutes without leaving the house.

Even though we now had some modern conveniences, some old habits died hard.

Or is it new habits are hard to learn?

The Dryer was the new habit. It sat in it’s space and was not used all too often.

Maybe my dad had more to do with this than my mom. I am not entirely sure. But I do know that he frowned on the usage of the Dryer even though he and my mom both decided to buy it.

Clothes should be hung on the clothes line to be dried, he said. It cost too much to use the dryer. The clothes were hung on a line that extended from the back porch to a tree in the back yard, a distance of about 30-40 feet. The line was high enough to roll on its pulley over the family cars that were parked underneath.

It was my job to hang the clothes on the line, no matter the season:

Spring: A parade of towels, shirts, pants, skits, and underwear flapping in the breeze getting that second rinse from the spring rain just in case the washer did not do a good job.

Summer: A parade of towels, shirts, pants, skits, and underwear flapping in the breeze soaking up the sun, getting crisp and dry from the heat and maybe a sun bleached tempering of the bright colors. Some pieces of clothing became sun faded long before they should have been.

Autumn: A parade of towels, shirts, pants, skits, and underwear flapping in the brisk fall breeze gathering scents of the fall, crisp and fresh

Winter: A parade of towels, shirts, pants, skits, and underwear flapping in the breeze.......no, wait! They did NOT flap in the breeze. They were stiff as a board. If you got hit in the head with a pair of freshly frozen denim pants it would likely knock you out. It felt like being hit by a 2 X 4.

Drying clothes on the clothesline took time. The summer was the quickest, even with the summer humidity. Some days, the wash would be dry within hours. I could somewhat understand my parents insisting hanging them out on the clothesline. But really, in the winter? With temperatures well below freezing?

There was a very orderly way I had to hang out the laundry. Sheets and towels first, then Shirts, pants and underwear. Each article of clothing was to be hung overlapping slightly so they could share a clothes pin. Why? I don’t know. It was just how it was done.

My fingers froze struggling with the clothes pins in the winter. I had to be quick. When it was really cold, the clothing froze almost the instant they hit the ice cold air. Shirts would take odd shapes, arms ghoulishly reaching for something in the frozen air. My fingers would always get numb with the cold. I could not work fast enough.

One day I wanted to wash my favorite pair of jeans so I could wear them to school the next day, I thought I would be sneaky. I washed them and threw them in the dryer while my parents were out shopping. I was happy to have circumvented the frigid air and the lengthy time it would take to dry the clothes (days) in the freezing air. My jeans would be ready for the next day!

I thought I would get away with it. But I did not think about the outside vent. It left its tell tale sign of melted snow where the hot air was vented to the outside.

Upon coming home, my dad noticed the molten patch of snow by the vent.

“So….you used the dryer? Why?”

I had to think quick! What possible excuse could I tell my dad about the usage of the dryer?

"The snow was getting high there, dad! I had to melt the snow away with some boiled water so that the vent would not get plugged up should we ever need to use the dryer. You always said it needed to be kept clear."

Humph….he responded and went out to inspect my claim. Was I telling the truth?

He went out to take a look. The laundry from a day ago, still stiff as a board was still on the line. Now they were weighted with snow from the day’s snowfall. The line was sagging with all that weight. And wouldn’t you know it! Just as my dad walked under the line to look at the outside vent, a pair of jeans pulled loose from the not-so-strong clothes pins that could no longer handle the weight and hit my dad square on the head. WACK!!

Being derailed by the attack of the frozen snow and ice covered jeans left my dad nearly senseless. He forgot his mission. He cursed being hit by the heavy tough as iron jeans and tossed them to me.

“Get them in the dryer!” he said.

I gladly took them from him and added the rest of the laundry while I was at it.

MY LESSON:

Killer jeans can do more than dazzle people when you wear them. They can be weapons to save you from trouble you might not otherwise know how to handle.

Book Review: Masters, Art Quilts Vol 2.

First, my disclosure....The Publishers at Lark Crafts/Sterling Publishing sent me this book to review on my blog. They do NOT pay me for the review, other than the book(s) that they sent me for review.

Masters, Art Quilts Vol. 2

Lark Crafts/Sterling Publishing

ISBN 13-978-1-60059-599-8  

414 pages paperback

$24.95

When you think of quilts and images of grandma's handcrafted quilt comes to mind, you have not seen how evolved quilts have become.

Migration of the California Red-Legged Frog
Linda MacDonald

Quilts are as much of an object of art as any painting can be. Quilts can be whimsical, political, just plain pretty, and as stirring as any piece of modern art.

New techniques and ideas have taken quilts to an art form that demands respect. This book is a museum of quilts that are without a doubt pieces of art in the most traditional sense of the word. 

The quilts in this book are from quilters from around the globe. Each of the artists that are featured offer an insight to their inspiration for their creativity. 

A Time to Dance:May 17
Karin Franzen

As with all the Masters books, Art Quilts Vol. 2 is a book that you might want to sit with to study color and form. No matter what your art/craft discipline you will find this book to be a source of inspiration.

Miserable Mabel on Emergency Rooms

CAUTION: If you have not read previous posts by Miserable Mabel, please be aware that she is a foul-mouthed so and so. She spouts off saying exactly what she thinks. Do not read if you are easily offended.

What do you think of when you think of a hospital emergency room? I will tell you what I think of. I think of poor suckers with severed arms, broken legs, hearts failing, and otherwise in such pain that they need medical attention immediately.

They can’t wait for a regular Doctor’s appointment. They might bleed to death, or they might have some other life threatening situation that makes them stop what they are doing to go to that awful place called an EMERGENCY ROOM.

Isn’t that what an EMERGENCY is?

Apparently not. I must be stupid.

I heard on the news that the new thing offered by hospitals is an appointment in the Emergency Room. Yes, now you can make an appointment and avoid the lengthy wait that often occurs in the Emergency Room in many hospitals.

No kidding…You don’t believe me?

You really think I can make this shit up? Read this then:  http://calcoastnews.com/2011/05/hospital-offers-emergency-room-appointments/

Is it just me, or does anyone else see something quite wrong with this. It was my understanding that the Emergency Room is for emergencies. Someone has a medical condition or has had an accident that needs attending to immediately. Now we have the option to call when we are fucking bleeding to death?

I know that Emergency Rooms often have a long wait. I have accompanied an ill friend enough times to understand this. It is usually because they are waiting for the blood tests or some other fancy medical report. Or they are waiting for the patient to stabilize before sending them home.

Sometimes the Emergency Room is quite busy. Sometimes it does take the doctor a little time to see the patient after all, he has been seeing those idiots who come there with a little cold and has to convince them that they are not dying of H1N1. But meanwhile, the nurses are keeping check on the patient with the emergency and keeps the suffering bastard alive, and with some luck a shot of morphine for the pain.

But come on…an appointment for the Emergency Room?

You must be friggen joking. 

Imagine this:

“Hello, is this the ER?”

“Yes”

“I just wacked off my leg with the chain saw.”

“Do you have the severed leg, sir?”

“Yes”

“Good. Just hold the leg together at the cut and wrap it with duct tape. We don’t have an opening until 5 hours from now. Will you be available then? Or would you prefer 8 am tomorrow morning?”

More likely, the conversation they are wanting is this:

“Hello, I have a bad cough.”

“How long have you had this cough?”

“At least a week. I need to see the Doctor right away. It’s an emergency. I have to stop coughing and having snot running from my nose right now. I have a date at 7pm tonight and don’t want to give a bad impression.”

Yup...I would like to sock her in the nose to give her a reason to go the the Emergency Room.

Emergency rooms are filled with those who use it for what should be seen in a doctor’s office. Emergency visits may be paid for by some social handout where a regular doctor’s visit may not be.

Now we are taking appointments in the Emergency Room for these people. Political correctness gone wrong again. At the expense, once again for those who need what the service was set up to be for.

Why not make those non emergencies go to Urgent Care if they cannot go to a Doctor? Maybe they should be charged for those emergency visits that are not really emergencies. Leave the ER for those who are maimed, suffering heart attacks or some other illness that leaves them seriously ill and in immediate need of care. Those with run of the mill colds, flues, ear aches and mildly loose bowels should never enter the Emergency Room let alone make an appointment for a visit.

Lessons My Family Never Intended to Teach Me #6: On Becoming a Celebrity

My dad was and will always be a farm boy at heart. I guess when you grow up on a farm, raising your own chickens, geese, veggies and fruit you will always have a fondness and desire to grow plants and raise animals.

Since we lived on the edge of town, with a sizeable backyard, my dad had his garden, and a little flock of geese. My dad loved the geese (and the ducks we had before the geese). Just having the 6 or 7 geese we had made him think of his childhood upbringing.

The geese were nothing more than pets. We did use the eggs for baking, but we never had a goose for dinner. They were pets with names, after all.

The little boy spirit never left my dad in many ways. This quality was sometimes charming, and often times aggravating.

Especially for the geese.

My dad loved teasing the geese. He would sneak up behind them and scare them. A garden hose suddenly aimed at squawking geese with heads held high in the air, would have my dad laughing for a long time. Using geese as targets while throwing snowballs at them provided entertainment for him for hours. The geese were never hurt, but often quite aggravated. They were unwilling playmates.

One spring day after a party at the house, my dad eyed the helium filled balloons tied down with colorful ribbons. He eyed the geese. He eyed the balloons again. He had that mischievous gleam in his eye.

He took the balloons and went to the goose pen. The geese usually had free run of the yard, but during the party they were penned up to keep them from chasing the guests. I watched from the kitchen window wondering what he was up to. I knew he was up to no good, just by that look on his face.

He caught one of the geese. Soon, the goose had a balloon tied around its neck. It wasn’t long before 5 of the geese had balloons holding their necks high.

The geese did not find their fancy attire as funny as my dad did. They honked loudly running around in circles with their floppy feet around the yard, outside of their pen. This amused my dad to no end. But it wasn’t long before the geese figured out that their helium filled shadows were not going to hurt them, and they went about in their normal goose-business, namely eating grass, bugs and laying down and sleeping.

Bored with the lack of goose-activity, my dad came in the house. With a smirk on his face, he asked me if I thought the geese looked pretty. I had to say “yes”. Otherwise he would not be satisfied.

My mom and I busied ourselves with cleaning up after the party while listening to the local radio station. My dad sat down to read his paper. All was quiet for a while.

About an hour or so later we heard the DJ on the radio say “We have some strange visitors who looked like they just came from a party! They are all dressed up, with quite a lot to say! Listen!”

We heard geese honking

“So where did you come from Mr. Goose?” Asked the DJ

HONK-HONK-HONK

“And you Mrs. Goose? The red balloon tied to your neck is quite fashionable. Did you bring them for us?”

A chorus of Honking ensued.

“Yes ladies and gentlemen, we have geese here decorated with balloons. It is quite a sight….”

My dad almost choked on the fruit he was eating.

My mom had a not so happy look. “Albert! Did you tie balloons around the necks of those geese?"

My dad and I bolted outside looking for the geese, They were no where in sight. My mom already got into the car to drive down to the radio station which was just about a ½ mile away. I joined her.

There on the front lawn of the radio station were the DJ’s feeding the geese with whatever food they had on hand. A small crowd of curious onlookers were laughing and taking snapshots.

“Those are our geese!” my mom said. “They were our lawn ornaments. You just can’t trust geese to do the job they were hired to do!”

The DJ’s and the crowd laughed as my mom and I picked up the geese and put them in the car. We drove back home and removed the balloons from their necks.

The geese seemed to have had fun on their adventure, and did not seem all to stressed by their visit to the radio station. They had become radio celebrities. They never did leave the yard again.

My dad heard more than just a little squawking from my mom. I bet he was thinking that he would like to tie a balloon around her neck to keep her quiet.

MY LESSON

If you want to be a celebrity you have to do a whole lot of honking and don’t be afraid to wear something or do something that draws attention.

Tutorial Special Offer

I just completed a tutorial for making bracelets using a metal bracelet blank. This is a great way to make bracelets. No worries about what kind of clasp to use (or how to close them when you put it on), or sizing since these are easily adjustable just by giving a little squeeze to fit your wrist.

The tutorial also includes the pattern for the bracelet you see here. Lots of photos to show how to make this bracelet. It is assumed you know how to do peyote stitch as the beadwork is done in peyote (or it can be done in brick)

You can find and get the download for this pattern on www.beadedbear.com CLICK HERE