Monthly Archives: June 2012

Oops. I did it again!

Maybe there is no hope for me.

Chrysocolla and Malachite

Red Creek Jasper

Tiffany Stone Bertrandite Opal

Mexican Crazy Lace Agate

More Crazy Lace Agate

Morgan Hill Poppy Jasper

Even More Mexican Crazy Lace

You might be able to tell that I have a thing for Crazy Lace Agate. NOT my fault – look at it!

My only hope now is that I might be able to save others.

For all you jewelry makers out there that struggle with cabochon addiction.


Do NOT click – HERE.

There will be no turning back.

Please, don’t let THIS –

turn into THIS …

You have been warned.


Acting out.

‘As far as I’m concerned, if a person desires to write, it’s worth trying to find a way to do it, even five minutes a day, and what happens to the writing afterward is a separate issue. The act of doing it has enormous value on its own.’ – Aimee Bender.

I read an article this morning on Oprah’s website. I don’t really watch or read Oprah. I’ve got nothing against her but sometimes I get tired of all that, 10 things you can do right now to feel good, stuff. I get depressed when I don’t do the 10 things, and beat myself up for not trying hard enough, and walk around with my droopy mood on, and well, generally feel worse than I did before I even knew there were 10 ways I could feel good in the first place.

But I quite enjoyed this one.

(Read full article – HERE.)

I love writing. It’s one of my favourite things to do. It’s also one of my most scary things.

I’m just not that good at it. I love words, I love configuring them, playing with them, reading them, but I suck at grammar. What the hell they were teaching me at school beats me. Maybe I was away sick that day.

But, I still love to write. I definitely have the desire. I have two books that I’m fiddling around with and I have the best time when I actually allow myself to sit down and write them.

I’m realizing more and more that I am scared to do a lot of things that I love to do, which seems ridiculous when you think about it. It’s not like I want to go sky diving and throw myself off a cliff or something like that. So this article was very inspiring to me.

The quote above is exactly right. For me, the act of writing, or painting (especially these two out of all my creative outlets), is reward in itself and I need to stop worrying about the outcome and enjoy the process for what it is. I laugh out loud when I write. It’s a wonderful thing to crack yourself up and not feel as though you’re losing your mind – well, maybe not losing much of it …

So, I’m thinking maybe I need to get me a, ‘keeper of the contract’, friend … (that’s my texan comin’ out y’all) … and start letting loose on the old typing skills.

I think I can manage one hour a day.


And, no, you can’t read it …

I made a box.

And put an amethyst in it.

I know. I said that amethyst was banned from my studio,

See here.

But it seems I am a glutton for punishment.

The design of this pendant is really more a pocket than a box. I’ve been wanting to try something like this for a while now but wasn’t really sure how it would work out. I had resigned myself to having to use glue to keep the stone in place so that it wouldn’t fall out. I thought it would be too tricky for me to get the size just right and that the pocket would either be too large or too tight, but, in fact, the amethyst fits absolutely perfectly – no glue required. I even amazed myself.

Now ask me to do it a second time …

I’m hoping, when I make one again, (because I know I’ll have to), to refine the box a little as I think perhaps it’s a little chunky. But, on the whole, I’m happy with it. I’ll give it a 7/10.

A disturbance in the ranks.

The troops are gathering.

And they’re looking pretty determined.

Wally is keeping a close eye on them, whilst appearing nonchalant.

And Spencer is on high alert.

In a shrewd feign of guarding the jewels.

Pickles, not photographed here, is undercover.

Some might think that she is slightly ashamed of her body weight, but she is, in fact, a stealth cat bred for her amazing ability to avoid detection in covert operations.

Everyone is in their place. The atmosphere tense. Now, we just have to figure out why …

because it beats me.



Also started.

From past experience I can tell you that this last ‘started’ will probably not be ‘finished’ but will remain in a suspended state until I get my act together.

The act of which is also suspended …

Until un-suspended, it will bore a hole in my nerves until I throw all caution to the wind and decide to ignore my lack of faith and attempt to finish it.

Then I will promptly ruin it and vow never to pick up a paint brush again – until the next time.

Off now to make some more jewelry for Spencer to protect.

It’s going to be a Friday sort of day …

I love Fridays, even though it’s not the end of a work week for me.

You just get that feeling of,

don’t you.

Spencer’s had a hard day already, and it’s only 11:15.

It took him a while to get out of bed,

but once he did, he managed it to make it to the couch o.k.

He’s had a hard life … sometimes I wonder how he copes.

When did I become a (fat) blob? – or – What are you going to do, just stand there!

The problem is that I don’t look too bad with my clothes on, and, as I try not to look at myself naked (that’s just me) I kind of forget to pay attention. But suddenly, well over the past year or two, (that’s suddenly in big girl years), i’m getting a bit (o.k. a lot) flabby which doesn’t at all fit in with the super beautiful, classy, omg I wish I were her, image I’m going for.

I eat well – probably too well, but, and here’s the rub, I do not exercise. I hate exercise. I would rather have a root canal than exercise – o.k. maybe not. Sometimes I’m so still that, if you didn’t know any better, you might even think I’m dead – except my mouth moves a lot. I could easily get a part as a dead person in a movie or a stage play, except I don’t do well under stress, and sometimes I have to scratch something.

So, I have told the kids that they can’t get married until I’ve lost 25lbs. In fact, if they want to run away and just come back married that would be fine by me. In fact, why bother getting married at all – that was so ten years ago …

But, then I realised that that would be all about me, and at some point I have to give in to the fact that the kids are real people after all and not just some little people that hang around me all day.

So going back to the, what are you going to do, part of the problem. If you read my earlier post, you’ll see that I have a cunning plan. A wannado list. Which is to be the answer to everything. In fact the whole reason I started this blog in the first place was to be accountable to myself. If I blogged about it, I would do it – right? Well, first up, I haven’t done anything on my list – yet. Except I have been working on improving my jewelry and I did manage to get 100 peeps on face book, which isn’t really a good wannado but i’m going to count it anyway – oh, and I did clean the bathroom that one time.

Today’s post is to keep me accountable. I’m not going to say I’m failing at my wannado’s, but, that I seem to be motivationally challenged at the moment. I will say this, however, every day I wake up is a day closer to one of those kids getting married. I mean at 19, 21 and 22 now, how much longer do I have? Hopefully long enough to lose 25lbs.

So, the wannado list is back on, especially the 25lbs bit.

And here is what I’m working on today.

I know she looks a little bit scary.
And, as I finally finished The Secret History, what did I chose from here today?

Such a Pretty Girl, by Laura Wiess.
I’ll keep you posted …


I woke up dreaming that my dad had died :( Very sad. It set my day off badly. I called my dad and he was fine, but I still felt sad.

So, today has been a drooping day. All of me is drooping, especially my face which kind of bothers me as it also feels as though thick sludge stuff is trying to ooze out of my skin, and, of course, now I’m older I have more skin for it to ooze out of. So there is a lot of thick, heavy, sort of greenish/grey sludge stuff, everywhere. I’m trying to visualize it as a form of face mask, you know, the happy, nurturing, cucumber on the eyes sort of face mask, but it’s not working. Maybe it’s because I’ve never had a face mask before so my visualization is off. I don’t know.

So I made a cup of tea and found N sitting on the sofa watching Animal Cops, or something like that, about all the poor abused animals that the S.P.C.A. goes around rescuing. That cheered me up :(

So I went into the studio and stood there looking at all the stuff I could do.

Then I walked over to the chair and sat there looking at all the stuff I could do.

Then I came back into the house for another cup of tea – the procrastinator’s friend – but it was obviously an Animal Cop marathon, or something, because those animals were still on the t.v., and, to make it worse, Sarah McLachian kept coming on singing, The Eyes of the Angels, in that sad animal abuse advert. Look away people, save yourselves, is my only response to that. Especially when you’re having a drooping day.

Finally, Sarah, and the idea that I could listen to my new book, got me back into the studio.

I finished the Death Book the other day, which was quite handy considering, and had bought, and already started listening to, a Neil Gaimon book – Neverwhere. I chose him after I listened to his commencement speech, and because we already have a few of his children’s books in the house. Now he seems like a really nice person and I think we could be friends, but, and I hate to admit this, I had to stop listening to it. I liked listening to his voice, I liked listening to his words, I guess I just wasn’t up for listening to the story he was telling at that moment. Which is a shame. So instead I settled on my old, go to, genre, murder mystery, and chose (sorry Neil) The Keeper of Lost Causes by Jussi Adler- Olsen.  I can’t tell you that it’s any better than Neil’s book, but, a good murder sorts everybody out, doesn’t it. Put’s life into some perspective.

Here is an update of my finger painting.

(I have to admit to using a pallet knife also.)

This kept me happy this afternoon.

No drooping allowed when you get caught up with making something.

This week

I’ve been finger painting.

Which I love, except now I have paint all over my bra strap.

I’ve been pallet knife painting.

Which I also love and it’s a little less messy – bonus.

And, I’ve been doing, whatever the hell this is,

Really not sure at the moment.

It started off as an acrylic mess, don’t they all …

Well, mine do …

Then went on to be an oil pastel mess.

then it turned into a boring blur thing.

with a creepy rat like creature on wheels in it.

Like that’s normal, right?

And now it’s as you see in the first painting.

None of them are finished. All of them will probably never see the light of day again. But, I really enjoyed myself painting them, except for the creepy rat one which is a little disturbing and has been annoying me from the start.

So, get your paints out people, put on your old bra because it’s really upsetting when you get blue all over your new one, and knock yourself out painting with your fingers.

It really fun.

Hit and run.

To anyone reading out there, this is a hit and run, (sorry), but I just had to post this link.

I really enjoyed it and I hope you do to.

Neil Gaiman Addresses the University of the Arts Class of 2012 from The University of the Arts (Phl) on Vimeo.

Have a great weekend.

This just out. Guardian angel on sick leave until further notice …

Please, if you are sensitive, and can’t handle the gruesome,  look away.

This is not a happy sight.

I think I knew when he accepted the job that nothing good could come of it. Well, o.k., I admit I gave him no choice in the matter, but, as far as I was concerned the job was his from the minute I set eyes on him. All he wanted was to play football. Tomatoes meant nothing to him. But I needed him, and, in my obsession with growing the perfect vegetable, I disregarded anything that he might want.

In essence, I abused my power.

Just because something can’t walk, or talk, or feel, just because something is made from (what the hell is that, plaster?) something other than flesh and bones, doesn’t mean it was right to dismiss, out of hand, the look of pleading on his little (plastic?) face as I banished him to the far corner of the garden in order to satisfy some need in me.

I should have realized when he first turned up on our doorstep that he wasn’t here to interview. He wasn’t even dressed for the job. But, I ignored all that thinking how generous it was of me to open up my home to this small, lonely, creature. Admittedly  I felt a twinge of uncertainty each time I saw his desperate face staring at me from across the patio, but, in spite of this, I turned my back on him and walked away.

I would have the perfect tomato, dammit.

For a while, all seemed well. He seemed to have resigned himself to his fate. I truly believe that when he set eyes on the vulnerable seedlings I delivered into his care, he couldn’t walk away.

And so he stood, with nothing but his football to remind him of his hopes and dreams.

I’m sorry (resin?) gnome thing. I’m sorry that Willow tore your foot off and ruined your hat. I’m sorry that we eventually found you lying face down in a muddy puddle yards from your post. I don’t think I will ever be able to make it up to you, but, it hurts, you know, to be the recipient of your revenge.

O.k., so maybe I overlooked you, I abandoned you, I abused you,

but really,

what did these tomatoes ever do to you?

In better times …

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