And a Beader is born

10 years ago, Octoberish I think, a friend and I took an Art Gallery Course called Introduction to Jewelry making. Neither of us realized it was all about bead weaving, not fixing or stringing necklaces. Neither of us were prepared to meet Gail ,a USA transplant who owned at one time the largest bead emporium in the Eastern U.S. and who with amazing foresight brought the majority of her beads with her when she moved to B.C. We took the class. Learned Peyote and were hooked on the lost art of native bead weaving. Following the end of the course and faced with two "all or nothing" personalities, she did a wondrous thing. She invited us weekly into her home to continue to learn more Native Weaving techniques. Neither of us knew who Gail was or knew of her reputation in the bead world and that she had apprenticed with Tis Mal Crow, legend in native bead weaving and Shaman herbal healing circles. Had we even a clue we would never had raised our eyes or stood erect in her presence.Ten years later our passion for seed bead weaving has only grown stronger. We watch with amusement  beading fever hit the craft world and the thousands of dollars spent in wire, crystal, findings and glass blown beads always returning to our roots and first love, the cheap and simple seed bead, beading needle and Nymo D thread. Above you see some of the Peyote bags we first produced. We later discovered we could adjust our designs to be a modern piece with a foundation firmly set in the versatile Peyote stitch. Over the next week I will display many of our designs in an attempt to lure you into the wonderful world of Native Bead Weaving.

To swim or NOT????

First of all....I hurt my knee yesterday gardening.....second , It is 29 C and it is 9:30 am....third, It is Friday better known as Hell Highway Horror day.....four, My head hurts and heat makes it hurt more as does moving, driving, breathing....fifth, I need to go out tonight so need to conserve, preserve the body parts. Whatever???? On my way......

Aha Moment

Morons hate being called Morons.

Preparation continues

Washed, waxed, polished, vacuumed and emptied of necessities....ready for her rest. This might be my biggest challenge. More than the pain, immobility for 2 months, more than not being able to shower for 2 months and more than 13 months of physio. Parking my Ruby Girl and relying on others for transportation for 6 months is far scarier than the actual surgery. Yes, that will be me eating my Tim's sitting in the drivers seat....parked in the garage......

Erotica in the garden

It was brought to my attention yesterday that the sculpting of my front court yard trees and shrubs has an R rating. Apparently the over 50 group is quite sensitive to shape and form even when it comes to trees. This I knew when Art was the topic of discussion but when it comes to foliage, I am somewhat surprised and yet bemused..... It seems my spruce look like Penises and my shrubs like a variety of sizes of breasts.....Is it me or is it them?

Barber to the flora

I have discovered an alternative Worry Bead substitute that might possibly have some actual usefulness.Spring ,summer,fall and early winter in this neck of the woods is greenery bonanza. Plants,good and bad thrive in our tropical paradise, growing any where, anyway they want. Though I bow to their sense of survival  and the resourceful direction they take to get to a drip of anything liquid; I hugely detest hacking my way to the gate every time I want out. In light of the fact I have sorted and reorganized all that is within my realm of power this Greenery has become my new obsession during these long sleepless (21 remaining) nights prior to OP Day. The upside is I can clip and dig long into the wee hours disturbing no one..and... vacuuming at 3 AM was beginning to be a bone of contention between me and the Dude.....go figure???