The link is under ‘Etsy site’ in my blogroll on the left……………..

On a lighter note, I’m working hard on the instructions for ‘Sonya’ - I’ll let you know why if I get ‘em done before the end of the month!

The next necklace will be called ‘Circe’ - I can’t remember why at the moment, but she’s down on paper, I have to see if the bits go together now!

That will do for now - it’s surprising how heavy a laptop can be when it’s pressing down on a bad leg. Next blog more positive - I promise!

Chicken Surprise

A couple go for a meal at a Chinese restaurant and order the ‘Chicken Surprise’,
The waiter brings the meal, served in a lidded cast iron pot.

Just as the wife is about to serve herself, the lid of the pot rises slightly and she briefly sees two beady little eyes looking around before the lid slams back down.

‘Good grief, did you see that?’ she asks her husband. He hasn’t, so she asks him to look in the pot. He reaches for it and again the lid rises, and he sees two little eyes looking around before it slams down..

Rather perturbed, he calls the waiter over, explains what is happening, and demands an explanation.

(You’re going to love this………………..
You’re going to hate yourself for loving this!…………. )

‘Ah! sorry,’ says the waiter, ‘I brought you Peeking Duck!’

The cabochon is a 4cm x 3cm Kambaba Jasper, and the shiney bits are Swarovski jet navettes. All hung on a St Petersburg weave necklace using Miyuki delicas and Toho seed beads.

I will not be making anything spectacular for a while, I have a project ongoing which will take most of my time, but I was e mailed a  very interesting design from my sister……………………who’s a better artist than me! That’s going to be the next piece!

Artemis

The ironic thing is that now Marcella’s been voted off I can watch the new series of The Mentalist next Friday at the same time as Bernie Nolan is wiping the floor with pretty boy.

See? I said I wasn’t going to mention it.

New design - Artemis - is nearing completion. I got talked into making it a ‘work in progress’ on my Facebook page, so it won’t be too much of a surprise when she’s finished!

New knee a week on Monday. It should be better than the left one was, there’s more to work with for a start!

Here’s some camels in Saudi Arabia…………………….

Here’s a photo of me looking like Leonard Cohen…………………..

Lets see what 2010 brings shall we………………..? I’m quite looking forward to it! Here’s the graph for last years blog visits -

With the expert aid of Codeine, wheatbags, and frequent Lavender baths I might get the front room liveable by next Christmas - which is why this one has been cancelled. This could be the long awaited ‘white christmas’ as well - typical!

Happy Christmas…………………………..or if you don’t celebrate it - Bah Humbug!

It was such a tight weave, and I was playing ‘how many times can I get a needle through this little glass bead’, that something had to give - anyway, she’s finished, and this one is Nina’s!

I have also discovered beading is not like riding a bike - the first two rivolis had to be pulled apart, as did the triangle, because they looked as if I’d never picked up a needle before! So, after using fingers as pin cushions, breaking beads, and shredding Fireline, I’m back to normal - oh, wait, that is normal.  Katya is definitely looking good though, I’ll let you know when she’s finished!

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“‘Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.”

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Lenore-
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Nameless here for evermore.

And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door-
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;-
This it is, and nothing more.”

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore!”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”-
Merely this, and nothing more.

Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
‘Tis the wind and nothing more.”

Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed
he;But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door-
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door-
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Nightly shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door-
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”

But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than muttered, “other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never- nevermore’.”

But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and
door;
Then upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then methought the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there balm in Gilead?- tell me- tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore-
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend,” I shrieked, upstarting-
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven, “Nevermore.”

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamplight o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!

www.poemuseum.org

Here’s this year’s figures for hits on this blog - thanks for looking!

Now……………..have I got a Ferrari piccy……….? Nope, thought I had.

Aha!!!  found one!

Shoulder healing very nicely, had a bath this morning and put a new dressing on, so as long as this keeps up I’m happy. Sketched and laid out the next necklace - sparkliest to date! I’m not starting until I’m up to it though, for once I’m going to do what the physiotherapist tells me instead of doing it my own way………………..which usually hurt more..

I shall concentrate on finishing the blackwork penguin I started with the intention of it being my sister’s christmas present………….last year.

Looking at that last paragraph I may have a look at my Oxford book of English grammar when I get a moment.

Oh, and I beaded a ring - nothing fancy, but it’s a start…………..

NUUK - THE CAPITAL OF GREENLAND…………………….COOL EH?

So here’s Veronica, very purple, and very nightime-y……………………..

On a lighter note, I’ve taken the leap of faith and submitted three of my designs to ‘Beadwork’ magazine for publication. Now I realise I am leaving myself open to comment if they don’t accept any of them, but I thought you may like to know - I always said I wouldn’t go down the ‘magazine’ route to fame, and I don’t think fame is the reason for doing this, it’s probably more of a ‘joining in’ game with my American contemporaries who dazzle us all with their own designs in print! I’ll keep you posted.

I haven’t aged much you know……………………..

Snake

A snake came to my water-trough
On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat,
To drink there. In the deep, strange-scented shade of the great dark carob-tree
I came down the steps with my pitcher
And must wait, must stand and wait, for there he was at the trough before
me.

He reached down from a fissure in the earth-wall in the gloom
And trailed his yellow-brown slackness soft-bellied down, over the edge of
the stone trough
And rested his throat upon the stone bottom,
And where the water had dripped from the tap, in a small clearness,
He sipped with his straight mouth,
Softly drank through his straight gums, into his slack long body,
Silently.

Someone was before me at my water-trough,
And I, like a second comer, waiting.

He lifted his head from his drinking, as cattle do,
And looked at me vaguely, as drinking cattle do,
And flickered his two-forked tongue from his lips, and mused a moment,
And stooped and drank a little more,
Being earth-brown, earth-golden from the burning bowels of the earth
On the day of Sicilian July, with Etna smoking.
The voice of my education said to me
He must be killed,
For in Sicily the black, black snakes are innocent, the gold are venomous.

And voices in me said, If you were a man
You would take a stick and break him now, and finish him off.

But must I confess how I liked him,
How glad I was he had come like a guest in quiet, to drink at my water-trough
And depart peaceful, pacified, and thankless,
Into the burning bowels of this earth?

Was it cowardice, that I dared not kill him? Was it perversity, that I longed to talk to him? Was it humility, to feel so honoured?
I felt so honoured.

And yet those voices:
If you were not afraid, you would kill him!

And truly I was afraid, I was most afraid, But even so, honoured still more
That he should seek my hospitality
From out the dark door of the secret earth.

He drank enough
And lifted his head, dreamily, as one who has drunken,
And flickered his tongue like a forked night on the air, so black,
Seeming to lick his lips,
And looked around like a god, unseeing, into the air,
And slowly turned his head,
And slowly, very slowly, as if thrice adream,
Proceeded to draw his slow length curving round
And climb again the broken bank of my wall-face.

And as he put his head into that dreadful hole,
And as he slowly drew up, snake-easing his shoulders, and entered farther,
A sort of horror, a sort of protest against his withdrawing into that horrid black hole,
Deliberately going into the blackness, and slowly drawing himself after,
Overcame me now his back was turned.

I looked round, I put down my pitcher,
I picked up a clumsy log
And threw it at the water-trough with a clatter.

I think it did not hit him,
But suddenly that part of him that was left behind convulsed in undignified haste.
Writhed like lightning, and was gone
Into the black hole, the earth-lipped fissure in the wall-front,
At which, in the intense still noon, I stared with fascination.

And immediately I regretted it.
I thought how paltry, how vulgar, what a mean act!
I despised myself and the voices of my accursed human education.

And I thought of the albatross
And I wished he would come back, my snake.

For he seemed to me again like a king,
Like a king in exile, uncrowned in the underworld,
Now due to be crowned again.

And so, I missed my chance with one of the lords
Of life.
And I have something to expiate:
A pettiness.

Taormina, 1923

So, the point of this is to say that although you may not see much new stuff for a while, it doesn’t mean I’ve stopped beading! It just means I have to draw my ideas instead of making them…………………for now.

I shall try to keep you updated without descending into the depths of hospital anecdotes and constant pain updates, I might even get out the Blackwork I’ve been keeping from you all!…………………..didn’t know I did Blackwork did you?

Now, where’s me funny piccy……….?

As a small contribution towards the amount of work he put in, his wife Jane now owns ‘Elinore’ - that’s as it should be.

Which is why I shall remain quiet about LloydsTsb, The Beadworker’s Guild, blondes who think I’m mentally subnormal because I’m doing 30 in a 30 limit  past the school which probably has their kids inside, the Inland Revenue telephone line which lets you press numbers for five minutes and then cuts you off because everyone’s having tea, morons who think anyone under the age of 70 uses a walking stick as a fashion accessory, and the bloody BNP.

So I won’t mention them.

http://www.physlink.com/Education/askExperts/ae502.cfm

Scroll down to  Natalia Ivanova’s beaded flowers as well - lovely stuff!

On a lighter note……………………….

Pictures of ‘Zara’ will be uploaded tomorrow hopefully - if my necklace stands find their way home - meanwhile, another funny……………….

Very sparkly and blingy, mainly because they’re made with sterling silver and fire polished beads…………………….

If you need to ask me anything drop me an e mail - beadsage@googlemail.com

…………….and now for something completely different…………….

Huge thanks to Mike at Glasgow and Jo at Haddington for looking after me, and thanks to Andy for getting me through Edinburgh on a Monday morning!

Watch this space for the next Scotland workshop!

The next workshop at Ossett is on the 9th May, and we’ll be making the ‘Lara’ bracelet using a Russian ‘rhombus’ weave - it’s like 2 needle RAW with a bit stuck on!

I shall now continue to get some kits made up……………………..I’ve promised a few by the end of April, so it’s a labour of necessity now! Time for another funny……………….

9.30 to 12.30 - £15 with all beads.

Next Saturday I’m at The Bead Company in Glasgow teaching the 2 needle RAW  ‘Catherine’ choker, and Sunday and Monday I’m teaching the ‘Zoe’ workshop at The Bead Shop Haddington and Edinburgh.

The next Ossett workshop will be the 9th of May, when we will be making the ‘Lara’ bracelet……………

LARA

……………….and the needle after I finished! 

This is one of my best designs, and thanks to Nina’s input, the pendant is removable for daywear!