August 1, 2015

I think about this blog several times a week right before an idea takes hold and I have to hit the torch. Which is not a bad thing, except Hi there!


I've lost track of the bead sets I've made in the last few months at 1111.  It seemed like a good place to stop counting.  I'm having more fun than one person should be allowed which I should maybe feel guilty about but I don't because I'm working my noassatall off, y'all.

There's a long not perfect story behind this cross, and I'm going to share it if only to cinch the healing that it has brought.  Y'all know I lost my Nana last year, and y'all know that wreaked a whole lotta havoc in my life for a couple of months.  Fast forward and a long time friend inquired about a custom cross for her parents for Christmas.  I agreed, thinking it was exactly the thing I needed to focus on to get right in the world again.  And then December 9th my daddy died.

You know that girl who holds her head up and goes about life through trauma appearing to be untouched and capable and FINE?  I'm that girl.  Everyone kept expressing concern and I kept assuring everyone that I was completely fine.  Because y'all please just let me be fine.

December 23rd I had to help my sweet Chelseagirl cross the rainbow bridge.  And I was no longer fine nor capable of pretending to be fine so if everyone could just please leave me alone that would be great thanks.

Do I need to say here that the cross wasn't finished by Christmas?  Probably not.

In January my oldest friend of 44 years died, and my giveadamn completely busted.

In February Poppop died and the utter numbness that followed...well, no words.

I threw myself into making beads, and by threw myself I mean I sat in front of my torch for 12-16 hours a day every day 7 days a week.  It let me keep breathing with at least a tentative grasp on the world.

I pulled this cross out periodically to try.  To try coming back. To try feeling something.  There were days I did nothing but stare at it for hours before tucking it away again.

I took it to the beach, just me and it in a room for 5 days, and found myself slowly moving forward.  On it.  On acceptance.  On me.

After 9 months it is finished.  And I don't feel so broken anymore.  In fact, I might even say I'm fine.




~~





May 29, 2015

30 Word Thursday ~ except it is Friday because I missed it this week. Sooo....


Let's talk beads, k?

Trunk Shows.  I've been doing them in a sweet little group that I co-manage on FB.  If you haven't signed up yet, get that booty scootin'.  There are many beautifully talented bead makers having trunk shows every month.  Lampwork Bazaar


Here's the sorta thing I've been offering~

 




Come play with us!

~~





May 21, 2015

30 word Thursday ~ On turning Fodee Fo (In April)

I haven't written here in so long that I think I must be writing to myself. 
 
 
That's okay though, because I've reached the age when my
oDdiTies
have
become
acceptable.

(not that I ever cared)
(I am way over 30 words now)
(well, not way, at least I wasn't until I tried to clarify)
(yeah.  me and rules)
(not so much)

~~

December 6, 2014

Hi there, Saturday.

The maid finally showed up this morning....drug me out of bed at way too early thirty and proceeded to start washing clothes and cleaning things making it impossible for me to fall back asleep.  Across town a boy started texting right about the same time asking what time we could go get lottery tickets and sounding way more chipper in black and white than I'll probably feel in color all day.

So the kitchen now sparkles inside the appliances and out, but the floor is laying there being all tiley and mockey because the mop is still hanging around in its bucket tucked away in the closet and I'm sitting here being all master ignorer/procrastinator.   Because by maid I meant me and me might have had a couple of celebratory cocktails with the Lita last night.

A chunk of yesterday was a mix of What...the... and face palming.  I spent a few hours of it perched on one of those hard wood church style pews that you also find in courtrooms and while I understand a courtroom is probably not a place where one should expect to be cozy comfy, I can now check Get Splinter Butt off my life list.  Right after I add it.

Lita's ex, who I've also known for 30 ish years is ...hm.  I don't really know what word to put right here.  R was once someone of whom I thought very highly.  Someone to whom I would have given a kidney had he needed it.  I guess I probably still would, but the good graces, he no longer resides there.  They've been court signed divorced for over a year, and there were a couple of orders from the Judge that R had a limited time to attend to...like refinancing the house to get Lita's name removed.  He failed to do so.  Court yesterday?  He hired a very expensive lawyer and put his own negligence in front of the judge because...I have no idea why.  I can tell you this though, every person in the courtroom looked him with raised eyebrows, a mix of Bless His Heart and howcananyonebethatstupid?  So Meh.  Its over now and ended as it should have, which is why celebratory cocktails and also why my head is on sideways and there is fur growing in my mouth.   

I think I'm finished with the typing now.  There was never a point to this post save to waste my time...and apparently yours, too.

I have to do that mop thing and change out laundry.  I'm pretty sure if I go get super busy doing other actual cleaning things, the toilet will scrub itself.  I'll let you know.

~~
 

Roll Tide, y'all!

December 5, 2014

We totally look related, and I'm the only one who looks happy about it.

I recently played a little FB game that involved going to Google, typing your first name and the word meme...and then posting the first picture you saw.   Some of them were quite funny and since I like me some funny I decided to play along.

:
I found Golem saying my name.




And I laughed out loud. 
A Lot.

Because last New Year's Eve
 I photobombed a couple of friends
and this happened~



...
 
 

~~