Calamine. It’s a mineral. Did you know that? I learned this while reading about Pierre Curie’s early experiments with the crystalline structure of minerals. One of them being calamine. I just knew it as the stuff that saved my sanity when I had chicken pox. Calamine was the lotion which made those blisters stop itching, at least temporarily, and that was all I cared about. I didn’t know what went into the making of calamine lotion, whether it was named after its contents or after somebody’s daughter.
Dreadful sorry, Calamine.
I also learned that it is possible to be humorously holier-than-thou via one’s license plate. While I was out running errands, I saw a Prius sporting “53 MPG”.
I learned that once again, my mother was right: you always find something in the last place you look. Yesterday I found several knitting magazines, a knitting book, and another two cubic feet of order (as opposed to entropy) in my studio, before finding the box containing my jewelry-making supplies.
I give you BEFORE:
You know that I am excessively fond of rich monochromatic color schemes. I had a necklace that was a little too choker-y for my tastes, which had serendipitously separated itself from its clasp, just before or just after the move. I had tossed it into a snack-sized sandwich bag for safekeeping, and every six months or so it would bubble up to the surface. When it surfaced most recently, I determined to restring it, incorporating semiprecious and/or glass beads to add variety and real value. (I probably paid $15 for the original when one of the vendors came to our office building, four or five years ago.) That carved pendant is plastic, not jade.
Here are the beads which I bought.
And the worktable, also occasionally known as the coffee table.
I wanted to find an old pair of onyx earrings from the mid-80’s. I had two large pairs of gemstone earrings, which dangled from something that looked like a clip from the front, but had a bail that came up over the post in the back. The onyx earrings are now too heavy to wear (my geriatric earlobes would hang nearly to my shoulders if I tried), and I want to make a bead lasso around one [earring, not earlobe] like the one which suspends the original green pendant. So here is where I stopped this morning.
I spent fifteen or twenty minutes rummaging around in the closet in my studio until I found the box which holds the jewelry boxes that Dad made for me, and one which belonged to Mom. But victory is mine! I have the earring I was looking for. After church, and maybe a nap, I will get it properly lassoed and start working on the fifth (perhaps final) strand. I have not used up all the original beads at this point, nor the ones which I bought yesterday. I would like to have few or none of them left when I am done.
Just to show that my world is not all about what goes on inside my head, here are two pictures which I took on Friday night, coming out of The Shabby Sheep.
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!