Archive for August, 2014

I’m back with the beads (ETSY!)

Hey! Here they are.

Click here to get to my etsy shop, or the thumbnails below to get right to the individual listings.

Minty Fresh Fireworks:


Fancy Boro Tabs:




Mmkay. Enough blogging and computering, I need to call my mom and tidy up the bead cave. I went glitter shopping this week (what a life I have) and it needs to get organized, because it got spilled and the cats have glitter on them and while it’s kind of cute, I don’t think it’s good for them to eat glitter.

Smell you later! Thanks for checking in.

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stretch, yawn, hmm, scratch

As the President of MORTAB, Inc, what can I get away with NOT doing today?

Welp… just grinnin’ and wavin’ does not a good President make, and I’m not so good at smiling OR waving, so thank goodness I won’t have to do any of that. Let’s see, I already did my taxes… I fed the cats… I stayed in my pajamas the entire day the other day. And that’s kind of a big deal because I’m famous for sleeping in my heavy sweaters in the cooler months and often in my jeans in the summertime. I’ve even been known to wear my shoes to sleep a time or two. Believe me, my husband LOVES that. He also loves that my memory is like a steel trap. I think he’s about ready to chew his own leg off to get loose.

I’ve been busy working on orders and steering clear of drug addled neighbors. We narrowly missed a drive-by shooting in front of the house last week because I suddenly got a wild hair to go antiquing and convinced my husband to come with me. Even though he really needed to be doing yard work right there on the curb, and shopping is something I usually prefer to do alone. (is anyone sufficiently convinced that I’m psychic yet? yes, that’s a big lol, sort of.) There are other prices to pay for cheap rent and zero pet deposits and no neighborhood associations all up in my hair. Some day I hope to have a slightly grander, sparklier illusion of security and some ice cold air conditioning to keep it from forming condensation.

I’ve contemplated the choices I’ve made that have led me here, to this moment, but I don’t regret them. Sure, I could already have something nice of my very own to cling desperately to, if only I had done a few things differently. The most significant being my avoidance of higher education. If only I had been willing to jump through their very special maze of flaming hoops and rack up overwhelming financial debt for the privilege of being stuck underneath the thumb of Management and a steady paycheck… A paycheck I wouldn’t be able to keep anyway because I’d have to hand it all over to the fatcats back at the flaming hoop joint. I’m sure there’s something else that I’m missing here, like, the whole point. And that’s fine because I’m reasonably sure that whichever path I had chosen, I’d be dodging bullets of one sort or another. Call me simple and uneducated if you must, but you can definitely call me mostly happy, most of the time.

So I guess there isn’t much I can get away with not doing, seeing as how I’m self employed and president of my own life… looks like I’ve got some serious bumbling about ahead of me today. Tossing some glassy things into my Etsy shop should be the first thing on the to-do list. I’ll get on that this evening, and I’ll post here again when it happens. Here’s a look at what’s to come:


we’ll be on etsy later…

See you guys later this evening…

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more air

My reward for all my sweat (besides all these boro beads) is another cold front. Can we have this every year? Pretty please?


bowlful of boro beads, 2014

bowlful of boro beads, 2014

As usual, the boro binge got off to a pretty sluggish start. This happens every time, even if only a few months pass between the binges. The work area is different, a lot more messy and much more hot. If I could ever learn to plan things better, I might manage to schedule these things for cooler months. Mom and I had dinner and pie Friday night and we put all these beads into sets for the long list of lovely ladies waiting for their turn to ravage them. Here are a couple of my personal favorites from past boro binges:

Melba: z-beads boro set from a few years ago

Melba: z-beads boro set from a few years ago

And another:

Colorblast Dots & Lines boro beads from several years ago

Colorblast Dots & Lines boro beads from several years ago


Meanwhile, I’m listening to:

The Knife: Shaking The Habitual

The Knife: Shaking The Habitual

Click the pic for reviews and snippets.

I’m wearing:

Bvlgari Black

Bvlgari Black

Click the picture for more reviews and descriptions.

Here’s the sequence: Satya Sai Baba’s Nag Champa incense in the box (not burnt), then the rubber tire aisle at the locally owned tool store, then back to Nag Champa and something very ordinary, and frankly bland. I’m not a fan of the Bvlgari house because the staying power is very weak, and their entire line seems to have been designed purely with “office friendly” in mind. Black is my favorite out of all of them, but as much as I admire it for what it is, it’s just not one of my favorites. I have my eye on a couple of perfume books in hopes of training my snobby nose to make better distinctions than “tire aisle”.

And I’m reasonably sure a sizeable opossum has been waddling around in my basement for a while. The landlord left the board off of the wall to the other part of underneath the house when he replaced a pipe. Every once in a while I hear a ruckus under the bathroom floor, which is at the opposite end of the house as the basement. Then I saw its footprints in the mud when I looked in the basement to check on the rain leak. I told Mr. Sarah about it and he asked if he had to replace that board right then? I asked if he was scared, but I smiled knowingly and reassured him that I knew it was because it was still a bit wet in there, and he probably didn’t want to get chased around by a opossum in a muddy wet basement and end up with rabies on top of all of that.

He scoffed and looked at me and without even looking at the keyboard he typed in “possum and rabies” and I told him “you forgot the “o” before possum, and he said “SEE? It’s nearly impossible to get rabies from a opossum” and I said “why aren’t you in there RIGHT NOW, then?” Anyway, he still hasn’t set foot in that basement, but I haven’t heard a opossum party under the floor in a long while anyway. I guess this is what living in a nearly 100 year old house is like. I’m quite sure our junk is what’s holding this place together – we joke that when we move, the whole place will collapse.

Thanks for reading, I’m off to take photos, which will probably be an all-day affair.

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