Today’s post is NOT about jewelry design. Little or no work took place yesterday, but there certainly was a good deal going on.

One of my Blue Heelers delivered her first litter of puppies yesterday. It took all day long. The bitch (a female dog, of course) had been staying in the house at night since I feared she might whelp in the dog pen where one of the other females could hurt the puppies. She was up and down all night on Wednesday and I finally gave up and got up to sit with her at 4 AM. It was nearly 3 PM before she delivered her last puppy. If a dog could just talk, you could tell by the look on her face that she would be saying “halleluiah” after she finished with the last puppy. I just know that dog was smiling!

I’m well aware that dogs have been having puppies by themselves for centuries, but I wanted to see these puppies as they were born. It’s a good thing because the first puppy was breach, not uncommon, but it needed assistance since it was “stuck in the door”. Two of the others needed help to get started breathing. So, if a midwife helps a woman deliver a baby, does that make the assistant who aids the dog a “midbitch?” hmm . . .

Following the births, I needed to change the newspapers in the bottom of the whelping box. Now think about this. How are you supposed to get the sheets (of paper) out from under the dog and seven puppies when they won’t move? My tired mind pondered this for a while, asked the dog to move, poked and prodded, but to no avail. Then I remembered how you change the bed sheets when someone is ill. You roll the person to one side, remove the dirty linen and replace it with a clean sheet. Then you roll the person to the clean side and take care of the other side. OK, I can do that. The dog was already on her side, so I removed the old newspapers and replaced them on the vacant side of the box. Then I attempted to roll the dog to her other side. You know, dogs just don’t roll well when you want them to. Finally, I moved all the pups to the clean side and tried to drag the dog (humanely, of course) over to that side. That dog is heavier than she looks and this didn’t work either. She grabbed her pups and moved them back close to her on the dirty side. At this point, I admitted that the dog had more fortitude than I did and called for reinforcements. My husband came and put all the pups in a basket, moved the basket away from the dog, and thankfully, she followed. Then I was able to change the papers without incident.

Although both of my females who have had puppies are black, the puppies are all born white except for markings on their heads. In just a few weeks, they will get their dark coloring. The first time this happened with a litter, I wondered if my dog had been out visiting the sheep dog next door rather than the great male heeler I brought her. No, this is just an interesting phenomenon.

I guess the lesson I learned yesterday is that motherhood makes you strong. This dog, which can normally be persuaded to do something if there’s a treat in my hand is not to be reckoned with now.

More earrings swung into place after yesterday’s post. These are largely composed of small pieces I had played with for several days. I lay all the pieces out and was then able to see what should come together.

Does this mean that I should never throw any doodles away?

I’m NOT one, but I do like jewelry in motion. I also like designs that have dimension. Following the post here on January 2, I took the bracelet shown wrapped around the pasta can into one of the stores where I market my designs. (I took it sans pasta can!) Although it didn’t have stones on it yet, the owner especially liked the depth to the bracelet armature.

Since then, I’ve been playing with how depth might be suitably worked into various designs. I made several “something or others” out of wire and they sat on the work table for 10 days. Finally, some of these came together as swingers last night. It’s difficult to see the depth on the necklace pendant, but there is about 3/4 of an inch between the front and the back swirls. The stone dangle wraps around both the pendant swirl and the necklace allowing it to swing.  

It’s a bit easier to see this on the earrings which, by the way, didn’t want to quit swinging long enough to have their picture taken.

Whether these are winners or not, they were certainly perplexing as a design project and will, hopefully, spawn other dimensional ideas.

Now, I wonder about that other kind of SWINGER . . . sorry, I can’t write about a topic that I know nothing about. You’re on your own with that one.

I started beading ten years ago and remember spending considerable time searching for an appropriate way to store, yet have available, the many beads in my stash. At that time I had no idea that my hobby would eventually require so many different tools. While stringing beads requires several tools, working with wire and metal in jewelry design takes many more. Today, I spent most of the day rearranging my studio and realized just how many great tools I’ve acquired. Most of these came my way as a result of generous gifts from my family and friends. (Thanks!)

I’m not a big tool buyer. I try to make do with what I have, but have learned several lessons lately about how having the correct tools can make things easier. This, of course, doesn’t just apply to making jewelry, but to many other things.

For example, yesterday I visited my mother at the nursing home., I meant to take my good scissors because she has been considering having me cut her hair since before Christmas. I put it off by saying, “Let’s wait and ask your granddaughter.” This seemed to be a good idea and it worked well until after the holidays and everyone, including her granddaughter, went home. I had my nerve up to cut her hair this week, but forgot to take the needed tool – my sharp scissors. When I told Mamaw, she announced that SHE had scissors. “But Mother,” I said, “ those are for paper”. “Well, I don’t want to be butchered up,” she replied. To show her that they wouldn’t work, I took her scissors and whacked through the nearest thing I could find – a Kleenex. Unfortunately, the scissors worked great and we took on the task of cutting her hair with the old pair of scissors meant for paper. Now grey hair is not the same texture as a Kleenex, but by the time I thought of that, I was worn down and resigned to my task.

We started with a towel around her shoulders to catch the falling hair. She couldn’t see how much the towel was catching, but she could see the tiny pieces of hair that kept falling on her sweatshirt and so she kept wiggling as she flicked them off. Eventually, we removed the sweatshirt, but that didn’t help much. I hooked up her hairdryer and used it to blow the hair off of her, but she insisted that it was “too hot.” She hollered once when I got the comb hung in her earring and we had to stop to remove them. We stopped again to remove her hearing aids since she was sure I was going to cut them and another time to move her glasses (I thought this might help if I got the hair a little crooked, but it didn’t help at all. That woman has great eyes for spotting uneven hair whether or not she’s wearing her glasses.)

A couple of times I thought I was finished, but when she looked in the mirror, she found places that needed more whacking. She was sure one side was longer than the other and I was unable to convince her that her head was just leaning. When I thought I was finished, she still complained about her fly away hair, full of electricity due to the full-blast heating of the room. Thinking I could cure it, I used hair spray and announced her complete. Then she took the comb and, of course, when she ran it through her hair, it flew away again. Eventually, we agreed that we would stop for the day realizing we could always cut a bit more since she had her own scissors. I donned my coat to leave only to see her looking in the mirror and pointing to her neck. Yes, I had left a little long hair that was now showing. I whacked it off and exited quickly.

With the right “tool”, I’m sure I could have done a better job cutting my mother’s hair, but we might not have had such an interesting time. Part of the problem was not the tool, but rather my lack of expertise in cutting hair. I guess you can have the best tools in the world, but without technique and practice, you can’t be an expert.

While I don’t plan to become an expert at cutting hair, this Mamaw episode does bring light upon my wire work. I have good tools, and creative designs, yet much of my work still looks quite amateur. Those great Lindstrom tools that I bought just can’t do it all by themselves. So I guess I’ll keep asking questions of my expert friends and keep practicing. I used to try to teach my highly creative students that they couldn’t get by on just great ideas. They had to learn how to bring them to fruition and that takes practice. Now I need to practice what I used to preach.

As for my wire and metal work, I believe there is hope.  Besides, now if I need to really find out how my designs look or whether the wires are even, I’m just going to ask Mamaw, with or without her glasses.

The word for today in Central Texas is warm . . . as in try to stay that way. With temperatures lower than we have seen them in over 10 years, the men here at the ranch have raced to stay ahead of the freeze and provide water for all the animals. We’ve worried about how our cattle would get water if any pipes burst since our animals largely get their water from above-ground containers. Trying to keep the pipes warm, every water outlet has been covered and/or insulated along with other precautions. Getting ahead of any potential pipe problems, many of the animals have been moved to different pastures where natural tanks are located. In other words, warmth for the pipes has been a big deal.

The dogs and cat get to stay warm in the garage at night (in separate rooms, of course) and the pregnant dog gets to come indoors. The people at Dreamcatcher are on their own.

Before the coldest snap hit, I was happily warming copper with a torch outdoors. Yesterday, that activity took place in the garage, but today it’s even too cold for that. I like the colors produced by the torch on copper as shown in the cuff below.

I also torched a flat piece of copper and then cut out earrings in the places where the colors were most vibrant. I think this may be a good process as opposed to cutting out the object and then hoping to achieve good colors. “Warming” the metal is intriguing and I’m anxious to get going with other designs. Check back for more pictures.

Of course there is another connotation for warm. What warms your heart? A couple of pictures from Christmas morning tell most of the story for Nanaw and Sir (the name my husband said the grandchildren should call him).

   Here’s hoping you can stay warm one way or another.

I went out looking for curves yesterday, hoping to cure a case of cabin fever. The local book store seemed the perfect start for the hunt and it didn’t disappoint. First, I grabbed the latest bead and wire magazines, a cup of coffee (yes I donated money for this free cup) and then I headed for the books.

The word curves, of course, has numerous connotations and since this is the famous week of fat following the Christmas gorging, I went straight to the books on exercise. Wow, those before and after pictures were outstanding. I want to see that in my mirror! Then I read what a few of the exercise programs entailed. hmm . . . There must be some other meaning for curves.

Moving on, I unashamedly sat at a table with a stack of magazines and didn’t worry as store employees walked by. They know that I will probably end up purchasing one of those magazines as I did yesterday. Unfortunately for my cash reserve, it was the most expensive, $14.95 magazine. But I REALLY needed it!

Thankfully, the bead and wire magazines, unlike those books containing before and after curve pictures, brought me back to reality. With pen in hand, I captured several curves to try in new jewelry designs. While I usually solely examine the illustrations found in the magazines, I did read an intriguing tip for shaping wire bracelets. The author suggested freezing a small juice can and then forming and hammering the bracelet on the can.

Last night, I made a couple of wire bracelet armatures and this morning I hunted a juice can. While there were none in my pantry, the tomato paste can appeared to be an appropriate size and I hammered my bracelet on it. The can approach didn’t help much with front of the bracelet since it was too rounded, yet, it was somewhat useful in forming the back of bracelets. You may note from the second photo that the can is dented. This occurred easily since the tomato paste was not frozen. I will try it another time with a different, frozen can.

Until I decide to purchase a suitable bracelet mandrel, the frozen can initially appears to be a viable option for curving the back of the bracelets.

The last picture shown here is of a curvy armature conjured as a result of yesterday’s hunt. While I didn’t see this design in anything yesterday, it spawned as a result of actively looking for cures. This bracelet is interesting looking on the wrist and I’m debating about embellishment for the piece. At any rate, these “curves” were much more easily accomplished than the curves found in that before and after exercise book. Perhaps I’ll just write a before and after jewelry design book called “No Sweat Curves.”

Today is the day people think about their New Year’s resolutions, those things they are going to do better in 2010. These resolutions are really a good idea since conjuring them causes us to think about self improvement. They also help many health food gurus, fitness specialists and diet clubs. Book stores love them because many flock in to pick up the latest self-help editions.

Most New Year’s resolutions are positive. For example, they might include things like this year, I’m going to . . . speak kindly even when I’m angry. . . walk the dogs every day . . . call friends more often . . well, you get the picture and could probably fill in a litany of your own ideas. Here’s the problem with these resolutions. I don’t keep them and then I feel worse than I did before I made them!

This year is going to be different. Let the NOT resolutions flow! (cheer, cheer) Here are a few of mine.

• I resolve NOT to worry if the dinner dishes are still on the kitchen counter at bedtime. Eating is more important than cleaning.
• I resolve NOT to feel bad when new lines appear on my aging face and new bulges appear . . . you know where. Some things in life are inevitable.
• I resolve NOT to fret when friends and customers find my house in a mess. I’m helping them feel better about their own places.
• I resolve NOT to try to keep my studio neat and tidy. Creativity does often arise out of chaos . . . if you can stand the chaos.
• I resolve NOT to iron my mother’s clothes when she tells me I let them get too wrinkled. I’ll just run them through the laundry again.
• I resolve NOT to feel bad when we run out of bread. Someone else could have gone to the store, too.

These NOT resolutions could go on, but you’re probably getting the idea. Why don’t you try a few of your own. Go ahead. Take a little pressure off. It could make for a happier 2010!

. . . Mean A Lot . . . or so the song goes. I had forgotten some of the words to this piece and looked them up on the internet. That’s where I found a vocal rendition by Kitty Kallen which you can hear at the following address:  www.youtube.com/watch?v=501bwTRmkYY     Some days I might think the song a bit sappy, but today it’s a reminder to quit rushing around and try to be nice.

This song has been tuning its way around my head for about a week. I first thought of it when someone asked me to make some necklaces for little girls – little things. I enjoyed making those and then I realized that most of the jewelry pieces I’ve made lately are fairly large. Where are the little things?

With that in mind, I dove right in and designed some different pieces. First, I tried to picture the women I know who wear smaller or lighter weight necklaces. I thought about the particular style of each and went from there. I was pleased to find a heart in my drawer of turquoise and accented the necklace for it with black onyx and sterling silver. It was looking awfully traditional until I added the donut achieving an asymmetrical look.

The fossil in the next piece is an unusual gray color; therefore I used hematite and pearls with it.

In the brown necklace, I tried to get a semi-chunky look in a small, short necklace. I wanted it to be completely eclectic and that proved to be quite a chore. I didn’t have quite enough beads of any one kind and must have restrung this one five or six times.  

The fourth piece  is my favorite. Again, I wanted something that was a mixture of beads and this one also was restrung numerous times. I particularly like this little pendant and the Celtic bead that adorns it. I’ve just started trying to work with sterling silver wire and think I’m going to like it.

There’s a line in the song that says  . . .”never cared much for diamonds and pearls” . . . “little things mean a lot”. . . While the connotation has to do with sentimental demonstrations of caring such as “touch(ing) my hair as you pass my chair” and “say(ing) I look nice when I’m not” . . . , let’s hope someone likes my “little” things. In the mean time, I’m going to try to remember the small gestures I can make that will be meaningful to others.

I hate to clean! There’s just no way around it, though; it has to be done. Whether it’s cleaning the kitchen after cooking, cleaning the house or cleaning the studio, I just don’t like it. As we can all attest, cleaning doesn’t last. Yet, ever once in a while, I decide that I just can’t stand it any longer and I plunge into the chore with great gusto. Today, was one of those days.

Today was the day I finally cleaned the inside of my car. Anyone who has ever lived on a ranch can easily tell you what the inside of the ranch vehicles look like following a few days of muddy weather. Not only was the inside dirty, the outside of the car window had been licked by several hungry cows who thought the car might be housing their food. Muddy boots, shoes and jeans certainly left their mark on the inside of the car. I could, of course, go into great detail about the yuk I cleaned up, but I’ll just let you use your imagination. Be sure to apply all your senses, including sight, touch and smell to the conjured image!

Some say that out of “yuk” may come something good and today it happened. It’s always interesting to vacuum my car because I can’t see what’s under the seats and the cleaning often finds all sorts of things. Today was no exception. I found my long lost emery board, a receipt that I needed and then something I didn’t recognize emerged. I quickly turned off the machine and see what rose from the depths of the yuk. At first, I thought the vacuum had discovered some puzzle pieces, but I was wrong. The small sack under the seat contained three little hand cut cabochons that had been missing for quite some time.

This was a great find and I’ll be using those in my work tonight.

Before putting away the vacuum cleaner, I couldn’t help but wonder if anything else of value had been in the yuk and eaten by the machine. I opened the machine’s dirt container and found a small stretchy bracelet that was intended for the nursing home bazaar and a mustard colored bead. I retrieved the bracelet, but as I held the bead in my hand, I realized it was only a berry that must have fallen from an artificial plant. Following the pleasure of finding the cabs, I decided to forego cleaning the car windows, It is, after all, a ranch vehicle and it could rain again tomorrow and wash off those cow licks.

This car cleaning made me wonder what surprises await if only I would vacuum the couch or under the beds. Hmmm . . . should I do it? No, I think more cleaning can wait. Perhaps the anticipation of more buried treasure will motivate me another day.

At dusk the other evening I drove past a yard surrounded by paper bag lanterns. This is a sure sign that Christmas is upon us. While I realize that those lights take many more sophisticated forms than they used to, such as some that use light bulbs rather than candles in the bags, they still remind me of Rudolpho Anaya’s children’s book, The Farolitos of Christmas. Anaya tells the story of an old San Juan tradition wherein some of the people dress like shepherds and enact a play showing the journey taken to visit Jesus. On the way to the church these pastores stop and sing in front of the house with the brightest lights. Although this has always been the little girl Luz’s house, one particular year, her abuelo, grandfather, is not healthy enough to chop the wood and build the fire and her father is away at war. A disappointed Luz wants to help, but can’t find an answer. Although she is too small to build a bonfire, she continues to think about the situation until one day she makes an analogical connection that guides her to a solution. The girl watches at the store while the merchant pours sugar into a brown paper bag providing the idea for building little bonfires, or lights made with bags, sugar and candles. These beautiful farolitos light the path for the Christmas celebration.

I was fortunate to meet the author, whom some may know from his adult books such as Bless Me Ultima, when I was teaching at Texas State University. I told him that I was so pleased to know the story of the little lanterns and asked how he learned about it. He laughed, saying, “I made it up.” I suppose the gift we give in writing fiction is to make others believe our stories are true. He certainly had me believing.

We simulate little lights in many ways. In our designs, certainly the bright faceted crystals sparkle to simulate light. Since I love a more natural, earthy look, one of my favorite sparkles is citrine, pictured in a double strand here. It reminds me of the color of the farolitos.

Sometimes we create our own lights. My mother had little lights sparkling in her eyes as she told me about her “date” at the nursing home and my friend sparkles when we talk about her upcoming marriage. Both of these occurrences put a little sparkle in my own smile.

Some of us buy our sparkles while others bring their own. Those that bring their own seem to pass them on as in the single candle that lights the others. Let’s just hope that in this season of tough weather, heavy traffic and busy schedules we can still “pass it own” with our own farolitos.