Beading, and Fishing, and All Things Irish

Look what I did! Wait, you can’t look. You can’t look because my darling angel, Nate, who put himself to bed tonight before I found out he had drained the battery power from my digital camera. Goddess, love his heart. Little booger just got up to go potty. What a young man! And he’ll go back to bed without any recollection and cuddle Marco who is his favorite kitty now while I attempt to explain my new beadwork and why I haven’t been by to visit you. *Sigh* Wednesday is D-Day. Or B-Day. Well, that doesn’t really work either. Perhaps J-Day, not to be confused with J-Date, as the day I go before the jury for my beadwork. I had a couple of pieces that were almost finished, with three actual pieces done and now I have five because I found this simple as hell pattern for a cocktail ring in the new Bead and Button magazine, so, I made two of them. One is made with 4 and 6 mm bicone Swarovski crystals, light siam (fancy name for red) and this orange iridescent crystal called frosted opal. I’m not sure why they call it frosted because it’s not. If you saw my amulet bag "Phoenix," it would go perfect with it. So, the frosted opal is more of a sparkly tangerine. The other one I made from 4mm siam, clear purple, and frosted purple, sorta. The names just don’t do them justice. And alas, I have no camera. Bummer. Also instead of using thread, I used Fireline, which you angling aficionados with recognize is fishing line. I used 6 lb. test, just so ya know. The edges of the Swarovskis will cut through thread so you have to use something you can’t cut from the spool with your teeth. This is fascinating, right? Yeah, I didn’t think so. How about something plastic fell on the floor furnace and is burning? Yeah, I can see it from here. *Drip* *Drip* *Sizzle* How about I was sitting here last night feeding my H.I.M. obsession when I saw Lola run past the door with one of Ireland’s newborn kittens in her mouth? (Ireland had three babies on Friday. How’s that for IRONY??? If you don’t get it, Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day, get it? Yeah, try to keep up.) Two seconds later I see Ireland heading back the other direction with the same kitten in her mouth. Bwhahahhahahaaa! How about another kitten woke me up at 11:50 p.m. and then 3:25 a.m. because Lola had stolen it, deposited it in the bedroom floor, and then was in a hissing, growling, "stop fucking with my babies" stand-off with Ireland and I had to get up and deposit said squalling baby back under the couch, where I found Lola’s seven week old kitten lookin’ pa nub? No, that’s not funny. How I chastise the sister cats like they’re humans, now that’s funny! Like they’re going to fucking listen to me. Some names in the running for Ireland’s babies? Celti, Siobhan, Seamus, Flanagan, and Flaherty. And since I’m of Irish stock, well, they’re Irish through and through. Mazel Tov! What, that’s Hebrew? Aww, quit your kvetching.