Of Jewelry and Squirrels
Procrastination comes in all forms. When one is creative, one can manufacture any number of distractions to keep one from one's appointed tasks. This morning, I provide you with but two examples (with pictures).
I haven't made any jewelry since I completed the necklace that I made for my sister-in-law last spring. But a couple of Fridays ago, when I had my pre-WorldCon clothing freak-out, I picked up an attractive gray blouse that, I decided, would need some bling to add a little something extra. Since I've been back from Reno, I've been putting it together bit by bit, and it's finally done. I like it--for the most part. It does exactly what I wanted it to do, which was to provide some interest on a fairly simple blouse. And yet, I'm not quite satisfied with it and I'm not sure why. It does everything I wanted it to do: it catches the light in interesting ways, it features a variety of beads and connectors in a random fashion, it's long and pretty and drapes well. But somehow, I'm vaguely dissatisfied with it. I'll figure it out, I'm sure. In the meanwhile, here's a picture of the completed piece. It includes white jade, rock crystal, Swarovsky crystal, onyx, and glass and ceramic art beads.
This second distraction only really counts for this morning. While I was having breakfast, I heard this peculiar sound, a clicking and a rustling. It was clearly coming from outside (I had the balcony door open to let in light and air) but I couldn't place it. Then Sophie sped past me onto the balcony, so I did what she has trained me to do if I want to see the wonders of the natural world: I looked where she was looking. And what did I see, but a squirrel with a leafy twig in its mouth trotting across the neighbor's roof toward a hole in the flashing just above the gutter and below the roof edge. It pushed its way into the hole. I then heard some scrabbling, and out poked the squirrel again. It ran across the roof to the big tree by the corner of the house, and jumped into the tree. The tree rustled a bit, and then the squirrel emerged with another leafy twig and repeated the process all over again. I've seen it wrestle with twigs of a variety of sizes, and solve physics problems that one might think would be beyond a squirrel's capacity. At this writing, I've watched it do this about a dozen times, and it's still at it. This squirrel means business.
Now, I've known for a while that the neighbor's attic is infested with squirrels. I've even told them about it on two occasions. Turns out that the house next door is a rental, and apparently nobody cares. Watching this squirrel do is nesting thing has provided entertainment, but I admit to a certain amount of concern. I want to leave copies of some of the pictures I've taken in their mailbox--to what end, I'm not sure, but I feel like an irresponsible neighbor by not providing some kind of evidence or assistance. It's just . . . odd. In the meanwhile, for your entertainment, here's a picture of the neighbor's upstairs house guest preparing for interior decorating.
First, we harvest the decor:
Then we carry it home:
And then we bring it inside:
I haven't made any jewelry since I completed the necklace that I made for my sister-in-law last spring. But a couple of Fridays ago, when I had my pre-WorldCon clothing freak-out, I picked up an attractive gray blouse that, I decided, would need some bling to add a little something extra. Since I've been back from Reno, I've been putting it together bit by bit, and it's finally done. I like it--for the most part. It does exactly what I wanted it to do, which was to provide some interest on a fairly simple blouse. And yet, I'm not quite satisfied with it and I'm not sure why. It does everything I wanted it to do: it catches the light in interesting ways, it features a variety of beads and connectors in a random fashion, it's long and pretty and drapes well. But somehow, I'm vaguely dissatisfied with it. I'll figure it out, I'm sure. In the meanwhile, here's a picture of the completed piece. It includes white jade, rock crystal, Swarovsky crystal, onyx, and glass and ceramic art beads.
This second distraction only really counts for this morning. While I was having breakfast, I heard this peculiar sound, a clicking and a rustling. It was clearly coming from outside (I had the balcony door open to let in light and air) but I couldn't place it. Then Sophie sped past me onto the balcony, so I did what she has trained me to do if I want to see the wonders of the natural world: I looked where she was looking. And what did I see, but a squirrel with a leafy twig in its mouth trotting across the neighbor's roof toward a hole in the flashing just above the gutter and below the roof edge. It pushed its way into the hole. I then heard some scrabbling, and out poked the squirrel again. It ran across the roof to the big tree by the corner of the house, and jumped into the tree. The tree rustled a bit, and then the squirrel emerged with another leafy twig and repeated the process all over again. I've seen it wrestle with twigs of a variety of sizes, and solve physics problems that one might think would be beyond a squirrel's capacity. At this writing, I've watched it do this about a dozen times, and it's still at it. This squirrel means business.
Now, I've known for a while that the neighbor's attic is infested with squirrels. I've even told them about it on two occasions. Turns out that the house next door is a rental, and apparently nobody cares. Watching this squirrel do is nesting thing has provided entertainment, but I admit to a certain amount of concern. I want to leave copies of some of the pictures I've taken in their mailbox--to what end, I'm not sure, but I feel like an irresponsible neighbor by not providing some kind of evidence or assistance. It's just . . . odd. In the meanwhile, for your entertainment, here's a picture of the neighbor's upstairs house guest preparing for interior decorating.
First, we harvest the decor:
Then we carry it home:
And then we bring it inside: