Well, you'd think someone who has a blog would bother to update it fairly regularly, but clearly that doesn't happen, not on this site anyway.
Silly really, as I enjoy it.
Four weeks ago, in anticipation of a visit from my mum, who lives in France and I hadn't seen for over a year, I was tidying the flat. A good many bead makers suffer from houseworkitis, they just cannot do it anymore, (it's So Dull compared to melting glass) but the reality of anyone actually witnessing the state of one's home strikes and a last minute panic of resentful tidying and cleaning ensues.
At about 2.45am, my arms being too full of things I was taking upstairs, I decided not to pick the jacket up from the stairs that I had put there earlier to be taken up when I could, and 15 minutes later, when I came back down the stairs to get my phone, which I so rarely forget to have in my pocket, I slipped on said jacket and broke my ankle.
Ow Ow double OW - and Bugger, truth be told.
I clutched at my leg, waiting for the wave of pain which I knew was coming, realised that it wasn't just a bad sprain, glanced at the foot which was definitely not where it normally was at the end of my leg, and tried not to faint. It was only a couple of steps to where my phone was, but with a shattered limb it might have been a mile. I will spare you the detailed description of bone knocking on bone as I hopped to fetch it for a very different purpose than I had originally intended. It was unfortunate that I was totally alone, my husband being in Amsterdam at the time. I called the ambulance service and told them my address in a robotic voice, assuring them I wasn't drunk, just trying not to black out. I managed to wake my downstairs neighbours by persistent phone calling till Jane answered. Later she said pleadingly 'Min, couldn't you go to bed earlier?' which still makes me laugh. Somehow I managed to get down a hallway and two flights of stairs to unlock the front door. It was not fun - two things learned the hard way - don't leave stuff on the stairs and make sure a neighbour has keys to my house.
Excellent people that they are, Jane and Geoff took charge of dogs and cat, and house keys, and off I went to hospital, calling my son on the way, whom I can normally rely on to be awake at similar times to me, night owls that we are. I told him what was happening, 'It's OK Mum, as long as you don't die' he said, practical boy that he is. I decided not to bother my husband with the news while he was unable to do anything, but that I would tell him in the daylit part of the morning. Lying on the trolley on the way into hospital, I surprised myself by saying, 'I wish I had my cat'. After a hard day's work coming to terms with my slovenly house I had been looking forward to cuddles with kitty, who had been sitting on the bed miaowing at me as if to say, 'and about time too!' The dogs were in their night time places, all was on track for mum's visit, trips planned, walks on the beach with the dogs, a bit of gardening...hah! Dashed.

X-rays revealed that I had had a lucky escape and didn't need to have my bones pinned, the nice men in the masks just manipulated things back into place, added about 50 kilos of plaster of Paris and Jane and Geoff picked me up from hospital and took me home. Husband called frequently, Very Upset. I said he should stay and complete his trip, which he did, although he wasn't entirely happy about it. Next day my Mum arrived, suffice it to say we muddled through, she saw how unscrupulously I dust, wipe or vacuum (I had four white pets, it really doesn't help when they throw their hair around indiscriminately) but we managed to make beads, which was good. I was surprised that the pain levels were such that I had to remind myself to take anti-inflammatory tablets, for the first week at least it really wasn't that painful.
 
I didn't know that when one has a plaster cast on, one is not supposed to wear nail polish (to keep an eye on circulation using the nail beds of relevant limb as indicator)...the cast became loose as swelling went down, I thought I'd re-do my nails, and in the attempt my ankle twisted in the cast. I heard and felt it go...result? I had to have it pinned back together a few days later, really very annoying, painful and set me back by three weeks. That was a week ago, and on Monday our oldest dog was so unwell that we had to have her put down. Yes, I did consider what might happen next, as duff stuff traditionally comes in three's...well, here it is - we have to put the house on the market! In a world of financial crisis, not the best time...but I just keep thinking that it's OK, my family are well, my pets are well, the old one doesn't suffer anymore, and in the end the worst thing about moving (should we get an offer) would be the packing up, particularly with a broken leg. It would be miraculous if we have an offer before it has healed, so I'm not stressing out, such a waste of energy.

After the pinning operation I was given a bunch of pain killing tablets to take home, and knowing that I have a fairly low tolerance for drugs, I thought the recommended eight a day would be a bit much for me. As it transpired, two nearly finished me off, if not physically, mentally. Yesterday I decided that I'd rather have a bit of pain than feel so floppy and unable to play, play being a far better distraction from pain than anything else I know. I'm no fun when I can't knit, sew, embroider, write, update my website, respond to emails, prepare for craft fairs, or make beads. Christmas is around the corner, I have pledged to give only handmade gifts, I need to increase my bead stock, and have a go at felting. I've had a lovely selection of brightly coloured Merino tops since I last attended the Alexandra Palace knitting and stitching show a couple of years ago. I treated myself to a book on felting processes yesterday, after a trip to hospital where I got my fourth cast put on (in colour order they have been white, white, green and white again). Note that there is no mention of housework...I love being in a clean and tidy environment, but not more than I love being creative. Cleaning does not make me happy, more than 45 minutes of that activity makes me cross, exasperated, irritable and resentful, unless it is properly shared with someone else of course, teamwork makes the difference. Poor hubby gets to do it all at the moment, he's even learned how to use the washing machine (fortunately he adores cooking, a peculiar condition with which I have never identified) and the older I become, the more I cannot rise above the feeling that I am wasting my precious time by cleaning. I also have bouts of chronic fatigue syndrome, what energy I have needs to be properly channelled, and that means that creativity must be honoured first, after all the only thing that suffers when I am found out to be a slacker on the housework front, is my Pride...and is not 'Pride' one of the Seven Deadly Sins? And does not housework bring up feelings of Wrath? Can't be good. However, I am not Slothful, now that would be a terrible sin indeed.













 

Hmm, mostly I've been thinking about blogging, usually at about 2.30am when I've gone to bed because I've run out of steam rather than will.
I had my Very First Craft Fair recently, at Troon Concert Hall. I'd been planning it for months, wondering if all the effort I was putting in was worth it, and despite the length of time I had to be prepared I was still packing things up at 2am that morning. When I arrived (with my trusty friend Linda as help for the day) I was just so happy that I'd made it, that  actually having customers seemed irelevant, and by the time we had set up, my brain had officially gone on holiday. It didn't take long before people started drifting in, and the real fun began, I love chatting to people and being surprised by their choice of bead - I sold two that I was wearing myself, and even though one of them was a little tricky to let go of, I knew as it went away with it's new owner, it was going to a good home where it was genuinely appreciated.
I particularly enjoyed interacting with the children who passed by, and had a selection of small beads to give away (I confess that wasn't my initial plan but it evolved like that) so with strict instructions not to put beads in mouths, ears or noses, off they went with a little bead given with pleasure. A friend and my husband tutted at me for that, but they're my beads and I can do what I like with them, not everything is about money. Two girls, who looked about 12 years old, stopped for a look and were especially fun, they were so on the ball that I would have happily left my table in their charge for the rest of the day. They gave me some good ideas and pointers for things they would like, so I've put plans in action so that I've got stock for my next craft fair. After the success of the day (which I pray wasn't just beginner's luck) I booked five more craft fairs, details of which can be found on the Art & Craft Fairs page. It's a good feeling to go to my shed because I have to, not only because I want to. I can't just sit on my laurels (or that other thing) there's 'work' to be done.

My (our) son James came to visit recently. We were a bit slow to get to the shed for the first bead making lesson, which meant that his second session was in a hurry on his last morning, but I was glad that he knew enough to get in there and make beads. He was quite excited about a bead he made, which I had to post to him as it was still in the kiln when he left. If he's bitten by the bug even in a small way, then I am happy. Does that make me a flamework pusher? I don't know. I just think it's nice to be part of someone finding something they are fascinated by and enjoy doing.
 

   

I had a lovely 'commission' recently, a very small one, but one that I appreciated very much. I was asked to make a bead for a friend's five year old daughter, the only proviso being that it must be red, as her little girl loves the colour above any other. I was immediately struck by this, a red girl among so many pink girls? I couldn't wait to get started.
I forgot to take pictures of the selection I came up with, but out of about five beads two were chosen, one was a flower shape with poked dots and the other was quite a large clear bead with two twists of red running through it. 'She can wear the flower bead round her neck' said her mum, Gina, 'and she can keep this one in her pocket'. I loved that. A bead for her pocket!? I almost welled up.
Best thing is, the little girl loved the beads but would like a red heart too...oh dear, tut, that means I have to spend time in the shed again, how awful...    

Geoff and Jane Austin, my new downstairs neighbours, had a look at my website recently, and when I saw them yesterday they wondered (cheerfully, as ever) why I hadn't blogged about a day trip the four of us took last Monday. The fourth person being my husband, David.
'Well,' I told them, 'it wasn't about beads'
'Ahhh...' they said.

I always intended to keep the blog bead orientated, also, I don't know how people feel about me exposing their movements online (after all, millions read my blog everyday and I know so many dodgy people)...but it seems right to mention a Great Day Out, and to say that despite the beastly hour at which we had to set off (6.30am) it was worth every effort. We took a 'five ferries' trip starting out at Ardrossan, via Arran and Bute, ending at Largs (where we never find a parking space) and there were other places in between, the names of which I do not recall - what I do know is that wherever we went, it was absolutely gorgeous. We had perfect Spring weather, bouncy lambs, calves, shaggy cattle, birdsong, the fantastic smell of gorse, birdsong, sparkly seas, mountains and picturesque villages. We had white bread Pringles sandwiches. It was perfect. Best of all was the double act that is Jane and Geoff. Even though I had a looming sinus/migraine attack, there were moments when they had me in stitches (where laughing almost turned into hysterical and embarrassing crying) and I was perilously close to losing control of my bladder. I doubt that readers need to know that, but there are people out there who know exactly what I mean, they are just more discreet than I.

When I heard that new people were moving in downstairs, I had some trepidation. Would they play Celine Dion, or Whitney Houston, at top volume at unsociable hours? Apologies to fans of both artists, but they're not my bag. Would they be out in the garden getting drunk, would they be smokers (one whiff can make me so unwell on a bad day, as can perfume) would they have six small children running and screaming about the place? We've moved house before because of noisy neighbours, it was a rotten time and we just don't want to experience that again.
How bright are we, falling in love with a flat and buying it?

Anyway, the grapevine had it that the 'new people' were a Minister and his Wife, it was unlikely that they'd be ramping up the rap then, phew! I enjoy short bursts of rap by the way, but when I choose, not when someone else chooses. But what would Mr&Mrs.Minister be like? I'm not familiar with people who are actively involved in church life. I'm afraid of people who ram their religion at me, they're scary. I steered clear of the unnaturally enthusiastic Church parents at the school my son attended (it was the glint in their eyes, I wondered what they were on) and as for people knocking on my door with the assumption that I don't have God in my life, well! They are Very Very Naughty.

So, I didn't know what to expect. I completely forgot that one of my good friends has a partner who is a pastor, and my husband has a cousin (a woman! Yay!) who is a Reverend. Their outstanding qualities? Both fun and approachable, no hellfire or damnation, or condemnation of those who do not see things as they do. And that's exactly how Jane and Geoff present, they are great ambassadors for their faith, gentle, generous, funny, hilarious, thoughtful, inspiring, motivating, and above all, human. Geoff is here to gee up the Church of the Nazarene on Glasgow Street, Ardrossan, which has had faltering attendance and needs money spent on the actual building. He has energetic and heartfelt support from Jane, who has a belter of a voice; it's worth going to a service just to hear her sing. She also paints, and she makes a mean rhubarb crumble.

They haven't been here long, but already they have a brought a sense of completeness to the property which we share. It may seem a little early to be declaring delight with our new neighbours, but I haven't seen reason not to celebrate their arrival. It just goes to show that past experiences will not necessarily be repeated, and good things do happen, even when one has no control over them.

Oh, and they have to live with us too, and our noisy dogs...and there we were being picky! Which reminds me of the shock I felt on hearing this 'When you point a finger at someone, there are three fingers pointing back at you'.

Unless you don't have quite the full complement of course, which would change things, but you get the gist.

Well, I'm busy making beads again after a little backing off period, and have found (again) that if I don't make beads for a while I have to fight to get back into the happy beader zone. It's like having a row with someone and then taking those tentative first steps to making up. The good bit is getting back onto the same page as the glass and becoming as one, which makes opening the kiln in the morning a pleasure rather than an anti-climax.
My new neighbour Jane, and I, bustled up to West Kilbride recently, the home of Scotland's craft town http://www.westkilbride.org.uk/ to see if The Gallery would be amenable to selling my beads, and after a meeting with Maggie a couple of days later, I am happy to have another outlet. This means actually having stock to take up there, hence the renewal of my rampant affair in The Shed of Destiny, and what with the four craft fair bookings slowly creeping up, I absolutely must be in there lustily following my passions.

I met Louise Nelson, a glass artist, at The Gallery, and we had a fun day when she visited, her main comment being 'I thought you'd have a sign on your shed with 'The Shed of Destiny' on it, I'm going to get a sign on my garage before you get your sign up'. So, a challenge. Hah! Will I be beaten? We shall see. Somehow I think her sign 'Gorgeous Garage' (don't tell me anything you don't want in my blog he he) will be more professional than mine. I might get a plank and write on it in white paint, then nail it over the door, done in ten minutes. Luckily that look works by the seaside. The long term plan being to totally rebuild my shed and have a big neon blue sign Vegas style, arrow pointing downwards, lighting up the Saltcoats sky.

We've had fab fab fab weather, absolutely beautiful. People have flocked to the beach, and I love watching them enjoying the view and the space, although I am a bit baffled by those who bring folding chairs and sit on the verge by their cars, they are most fascinating. Yesterday there was a marvellously pot bellied granddad in full topless glory kicking a football (while attempting to avoid the dog shit) with his grandson...this is people watching paradise on a sunny day. But who are the people who spend a day on the beach and see fit to leave piles of rubbish behind them? Who are the people who don't pick up after their dogs? All the facilities are there for them. They are candidates for being made to run naked through briar patches, that's who, and me behind them if they snivel (I would be dressed by the way, don't get your hopes up). The alternative would be quite simple, a full month of spending all daylight hours litter and poo picking (NO fag or burger breaks) and signing a promise that, 'I, the Foul Rubbish Tipper & Dog Poo leaver, promise never to litter again in any way (including chucking stuff out of car windows) or Min will be allowed to punish me however she sees fit'. The consequences would depend on whether I was pre-menstrual, or not, and one would hope for the latter state.
In South Africa they have 'PIKITUP' written on bins, which I find humorous and direct, an almost subliminal instruction to be tidy, no threats. 'Huh?' you think, 'and there I was thinking that Min condoned threats after what she said in the last paragraph'. Well I do, and I don't, it depends. That's a whole new blog.

I've been making beads and not taking pictures of them so my best ones are currently unrecorded. I hope to turn that around soon and give my visitors something new to see, a couple of days should do it. Unless I find myself back in the shed, in which case we're back to square one.

Probably I should get dressed and make a plank into a sign now...and of course when I have, there will be a photo of it on the site, and an email of triumph to those who doubt my true dominance in shed signage, he he he...

I loved my weekend at Towcester, and in Enderby, where I stayed. In fact, although I said I'd write about the weekend, I haven't found it easy to begin, because some aspects of it feel too precious and private to shout about here. I was welcomed and looked after so kindly, I am still very touched by that. I doubt I can ever return what I was given by my hosts, but maybe one day I will be able to do what was done for me, for someone else.

I was delighted to swap two of my beads for one each of Sally Carver's and Sarah Downton's, they seemed to like my animal beads...from now on to be known as 'Minnie-Moo's' according to my husband, which means that I have the option of changing the name if I want to, especially as it sounds fairly cow orientated and I haven't even made a cow yet...but who knows, maybe I should. Perhaps I'll call them 'Minnie-Who's?' or 'Minnie-What's?' - but stop! this is reminicent of choosing band names before there is a song to sing. I love the beads I received in return, and having started a collection am now planning a driftwood hunt so that I can display them beautifully.

I'm also the proud owner of one of Diana East's beads, the more I look at it the more impressed I am. I left a couple of mine with her, and she gave it to me in return, which meant a lot, but by then I was already a bit overwhelmed so I don't know if it showed. You know when you meet someone and feel proper, real, heartfelt respect for them? That.

It was fab to meet people at the Flame Off, especially the FHF members, I didn't have a FHF badge (I will next time though) so I collared people who did have one on and said 'hi'. It was so nice to feel part of a greater movement, everyone is at a different stage in their flamework journey, and I think I was struck by both ends of the spectrum - Virginia (Madbunny) with her box of first bead treasures and then people like Dora Schubert, Sally Carver and Emma Green who are inspirational, a lot of us aspire to talent like theirs.

It was good to see total newcomers to bead making having a go on the various torches downstairs at the Flame Off, and the patience with which they were being taught what to do. The look on their faces as they take their first steps must be reward in itself for their teachers, no matter how often they hear the same questions and concerns.
I remember being so desperate to make glass beads that when I finally got to my weekend class I was in a state of anxiety for every moment that I needed to watch a demonstration. I was the only one who didn't have equipment at home, I didn't want to stop making beads.

The demonstrations upstairs went on all day, and were brilliantly presented on a large screen and several tv screens. The room was packed, and it wasn't small. I learned a few new things that I hope will improve my bead making, but some techniques, like stringer control, come naturally to some - just check out Dora's work.
There were so many people sitting in silence, just watching the demo's - apart from the man who wasn't silent and I felt my blood begin to boil as he talked, obviously about an important issue to him at the time, but eventually I had to move because I could hear him better than the demonstrator. Later I found myself induging in a similar scenario and felt quite awful about it, even though I was having a lot of fun at the time. I left the room feeling as if I had been disrespectful towards the demonstrator, not only that, I missed Mike Poole at work. So, it was a case of doing the things that one judges other people for...oh to be perfect!

The Tuffnell's made UK bead making history this year, I can't wait to see what other events they come up with in the future, and I hope I can be part of every single one. There's a link to their site on my links page, for some reason I can't add one to this blog. Technology is great, when it works!

The Flame Off/Enderby glow lasted a few days, but of course eventually reality stuck it's horrid head around the door and I'm still looking for work, which is soul destroying. I'm so busy and running over with creative ideas, I resent having to fit my round self into a square hole, but it must be done. I just need someone to trust me when I say I'll turn up and do the work, no matter how dull. I have my bead shed to look forward to and the prospect of selling my beads (six more sold yesterday, some hadn't even made it onto the website), that's enough to keep me happy while I earn a more reliable income.  

Well, I'm looking forward to blogging about the Big Event this weekend, I, along with many others, have been looking forward to it for sometime. I'm hoping to hook up with like minded people and get some feedback on where I'm at with my bead making, and I'm especially interested to see some well known and excellent bead makers giving demonstrations.

see more details about the bead fair and flame off here -
http://www.beadshows.co.uk/index1.html

After last week's crazy, obsessive time in the Shed of Destiny I decided to step back from bead making a bit, it was all getting too much. I want to be good at what I do but in pursuit of that I became hyper-critical and perfectionistic, it was so tiring! I banned myself from the shed and took photos of beads and posted them in my website shop instead, something I had meant to do for ages but always opted for making more beads, whereupon I felt bad about making beads and letting other important things slide. Ugh, it's tough being a wiful artist! Anyway, I felt much better for the break and managed to get a better perspective on life for a few days.
Today I fired up the torch and had the pleasure of introducing a creative friend, Tako, to the process of bead making, his beads are in the kiln right now, and we have the anticipation of seeing the beads in the morning.

And here they are - Tako didn't really think they were that good, but most bead makers would acknowledge that they're pretty amazing for first ever beads. If I remember correctly, the bead on the right was approx 3cm high, so he's started out big. Excellent. Shame he doesn't have access to bead making equipment where he lives, but who knows, maybe one day...





I got my replacement phone today. Apparently this Nokia model will 'improve' my image. Hah!
 
Now I must do a bit of ironing for my trip, which is why I'm writing this, anything to avoid ironing! Actually, being overweight is quite useful at times, providing one can actually get the item on, filling out a piece of clothing with plumpness means less ironing : ) Silver linings and all that.

Two things happened to me today -

Firstly, I dropped my Nokia 9300 into the sea. Expletive, Expletive, Expletive! I'm going to borrow hubbie's wellies in a minute and go for a wade as the tide has gone out again, my own wellies are still soaked from an earlier rescue effort. I'm pretty good about backing up info so that's not a worry, but I've had that phone since mid 2005, and suddenly I don't...there was nothing wrong with it, it wasn't even on it's way out and about to be replaced. In fact, I have an LG Chocolate still in the box, rejected in favour of my 'old' phone when I took out a new contract. I really ought to ebay it.
I lost my phone today because I was juggling three dogs, leads, poo bags, a dog toy, and a camera, and I lost track of coat zippers. Oh well, as they say, 'worse things happen at sea', and they do. Ha ha.
                                                                  

Hmm...I haven't made beads for a couple of days and am having withdrawals. Today I decided to be 'good' before I rewarded myself with a bead session, as I really do need to get myself a regular income. I began by updating my cv, which doesn't represent me very well at all. A dry old list of school qualifications and subsequent employment through some difficult years does not reflect who I am today, or what I can offer. I think I can offer a lot, but how to put that on paper?
In the process I managed to give myself another migraine...it was as if Clariss Cliff and Kandinsky had come to play, great colours and shapes where my vision was missing, and then the flashing patterns. Thank God the doctor prescribed tablets to kill the migraine before pain sets in, but of course I had to crash out as a result of taking them. Still, I'm up and about on the same day, which is miraculous, but I do feel as if I've lost hours to migraine again, and it's quite simply due to stress. I'm sure that once I'm earning I won't be so prone.
When I got up from my restful slumber (accompanied by Cat, as usual) I saw the Bodyshock programme featuring 31-year-old neurofibromatosis sufferer Huang Chuncai.  It was very touching. 
Have I got problems? No!
It baffles me that I need reminding of my good fortune quite so often, gratitude is so important.
Happy Day!
Min X

I'm pretty excited about going to the Flame Off, I'm particularly looking forward to the demonstrations by glass bead makers whose work I admire, I'm hoping to learn.
Every now and then I pull something out of the kiln and think 'Hey! I'm actually doing quite well at this bead making lark' then I see a piece on another website (Judith Johnston and Dora Schubert, JCHerrel, Melanie Moertel, to name but a tiny few - I see a links page coming on) and feel slightly deflated, the benchmarks are set high. I expect everyone has those moments of inadequacy, and that's where meeting other beaders is essential, they seem to be a friendly bunch, and I hope to get a better perspective on where I'm at by the time the event is over.
I did a bad thing the other night. I melted some silver wire and forgot about fumes...sore throat, and feeling horrible for a couple of days ensued. Fool Woman!!! Will not melt metals without some kind of mask on again, it's just plain idiotic.

I had migraine today. It sucked.
I cancelled my trip to Glasgow to go to the Art  Fair, which meant having to  tell the person I was going to meet that I couldn't make it, I hate having to cancel plans. I know the migraine arrived uninvited and there's nothing I can do about it, but I still felt like a flake. Having sent the message that I wouldn't be there, I felt able to take a migraine pill and went to bed. There was no way I could take it and then go out because they make me drowsy. Probably that's the best thing about them. I know pill popping isn't the answer, but as I lay there contemplating the alternative, which involved sharpened six inch nails and a hammer, I thought it best to take the least messy option. One day I might take inspiration from Frida Kahlo and paint my pains.
Feeling nauseous, I fell asleep. Hurrah. A little while later I woke up because the dogs were barking at the sound of the doorbell, and I heard my husband take in a delivery for me, from Tuffnell Glass.
So, I was lying in bed, feeling horrible, knowing that there was a glass order waiting for me downstairs. Now that is torment! Also, when Tuffnell's send out an order, there's usually a sweetie in it somewhere. So I lay in bed wondering what kind of sweet it was, and looking forward to it only fractionally less than the glass.
I've got a sample pack of Northstar Precision 104 glass, I'm looking forward to seeing how that works out, I'm likely to be unable to resist giving it a little go this evening. Mind you, I'm having trouble using the computer because of mild tunnel vision, so why I think I'm going to fire up the torch, I don't know.
I've been making lots of new beads, and have even been disciplined enough to make sets. I seem to have found a way to do this successfully, the main aim being to make repeats of beads in size, shape and design. Sounds so simple doesn't it? I've booked a table for the Ayrshire Art & Craft Fair in Troon on 12th July, 9th August, 13th September, and 4th October, so I have to dive into The Shed of Destiny and spend hours playing, hurrah, hurrah, hurrah! People ask me if bead making is a 'hobby'. No, it isn't. My mum came up with a good word, she's German, so when I translated it as 'obsessed' she said, 'no, worse than that', 'what?' I asked, astonished, 'there's something worse than being obsessed?' we figured out that the word she was looking for is 'possessed', which I think is a fair description. I came to the conclusion many years ago, that when I honour my creative urges, they are my friend and I feel content, and when I ignore them and don't go with the flow, I am their enemy and feel unhappy. Soon I hope to find work that brings in a regular income, and am quite concerned about how that might impact on my beading time. I'd hate to be rich but unable to follow my heart, I'd rather be poor and able to go into my shed and make glass beads.

This is Mr.Snake, (such an original name) he turned up one night right out of the flame, and I was quite surprised to see him there, and then, a few days later, through my own careless handling, I broke the tip of his tongue off.
I still love him though, imperfections and all.

There are a few more like him cropping up here and there, and very welcome they are too.
 
This is Rosie's 'giraffe', he has a nostril discrepancy. There's a 'Dragon' waiting in the wings for his debut, and another wee beastie that hasn't yet been identified (that task would even tax David Attenborough) thus far they have neither great imperfection nor discrepancy, so they will go to the shop. Behind bars. Longing to be given the chance of a new life in a caring home, just waiting for someone to love them enough. You get the picture : ) he he he



Here's Kitty, she should have her new home by now...she's so cute!

I always worry a bit if I don't fancy making beads, I think 'Oh no... the passion and interest have waned, I'm a fraud...' but I know myself well enough and the moment does comes round again, suddenly I just can't wait to get in there and fire up. 

That's how I woke up on Sunday morning. The Shed was calling to me, and Rose and I didn't have to run the gauntlet of a high wind between front door and Shed door (for a change) so off we went over a few puddles. 

I demonstrated the making of a few beads, then Rose had a go and managed a well balanced bead, I was very pleased for her, but she wasn't bitten by the bug (this time) and I soon found myself back in the hot seat, during which some unexpected but welcome beads emerged. 

It was a real treat to make beads with such a great (and patient) friend by my side, thanks Rosie!

'Okay...' you're thinking, what's this all about? 'Minnie Mandr'elle & the Shed Of Destiny'?

Well, it's my blog. Everyone's got a blog (well, almost everyone), and it seems that hardly anyone keeps a hand written diary anymore. I used to, and now I don't. Arial is my own personal font, it's more familiar than my own handwriting. If I try to write as much as a birthday card by hand, my fingers ache by the time I've finished, and I am always surprised by what comes out of the end of the pen, 'Oh look! That's my writing!'. Blogging is the modern journal keeping, and the great thing about it is the word processing aspect. I have a beautiful leather bound gilt edged journal, it remains as blank as the day I bought it, about six years ago, I couldn't bring myself to 'spoil' it by writing in it. I like being able to change things around without using an eraser, and lots of sprightly arrows redirecting sentences. Hence easy conversion to blogging.
What I don't understand is the urge to jump in and put myself out there with the rest of the world. I mean, who reads this stuff anyway?
So...I'm setting up this website. Occasionally I know what I'm doing, then things get a bit fuzzy and I'm lost. Right now I want to upload some photos to the shop, but realised that I need to compare actual bead colours with the colours that show on the site, because I don't want to misrepresent my work. So, I thought I'd take a break and do something that comes relatively easily to me, namely writing.

A mandrel is the steel rod around which one wraps the hot glass that eventually becomes the bead. On removal of the bead, there is a hole where the mandrel was. My nickname is 'Min', I love alliteration, I thought Minnie Mandr'elle was fun, and as for The Shed, that's where I make my glass beads. Yesterday I went into it with the intention of taking a picture of my work space, because I appreciate seeing photos of other lampworker's studio's on their websites, but it would have made such a dull photo I wondered who'd want to look at it. Maybe I'll revise that decision soon.
Should I explain the 'Destiny' part?
I've wanted to make glass beads for AGES and ages and ages. I'm finally doing it, and I feel as if I've found my place in the world of creativity. There's nothing else I want to do more than make beads out of glass. I am so happy to know what I want, it's taken a long time to get here, and it feels good. It is my destiny for sure.