Well, I’m busy making beads again after a little backing off period, and have found (again) that if I don’t make beads for a while I have to fight to get back into the happy beader zone. It’s like having a row with someone and then taking those tentative first steps to making up. The good bit is getting back onto the same page as the glass and becoming as one, which makes opening the kiln in the morning a pleasure rather than an anti-climax.
My new neighbour Jane, and I, bustled up to West Kilbride recently, the home of Scotland’s craft town to see if The Gallery would be amenable to selling my beads, and after a meeting with Maggie a couple of days later, I am happy to have another outlet. This means actually having stock to take up there, hence the renewal of my rampant affair in The Shed of Destiny, and what with the four craft fair bookings slowly creeping up, I absolutely must be in there lustily following my passions.
I met Louise Nelson, a glass artist, at The Gallery, and we had a fun day when she visited, her main comment being ‘I thought you’d have a sign on your shed with ‘The Shed of Destiny’ on it, I’m going to get a sign on my garage before you get your sign up’. So, a challenge. Hah! Will I be beaten? We shall see. Somehow I think her sign ‘Gorgeous Garage’ (don’t tell me anything you don’t want in my blog he he) will be more professional than mine. I might get a plank and write on it in white paint, then nail it over the door, done in ten minutes. Luckily that look works by the seaside. The long term plan being to totally rebuild my shed and have a big neon blue sign Vegas style, arrow pointing downwards, lighting up the Saltcoats sky.
We’ve had fab fab fab weather, absolutely beautiful. People have flocked to the beach, and I love watching them enjoying the view and the space, although I am a bit baffled by those who bring folding chairs and sit on the verge by their cars, they are most fascinating. Yesterday there was a marvelously pot bellied granddad in full topless glory kicking a football (while attempting to avoid the dog shit) with his grandson…this is people watching paradise on a sunny day. But who are the people who spend a day on the beach and see fit to leave piles of rubbish behind them? Who are the people who don’t pick up after their dogs? All the facilities are there for them. They are candidates for being made to run naked through briar patches, that’s who, and me behind them if they snivel (I would be dressed by the way, don’t get your hopes up). The alternative would be quite simple, a full month of spending all daylight hours litter and poo picking (NO fag or burger breaks) and signing a promise that, ‘I, the Foul Rubbish Tipper and Dog Poo leaver, promise never to litter again in any way (including chucking stuff out of car windows) or Min will be allowed to punish me however she sees fit’. The consequences would depend on whether I was pre-menstrual, or not, and one would hope for the latter state.
In South Africa they have ‘PIKITUP’ written on bins, which I find humorous and direct, an almost subliminal instruction to be tidy, no threats. ‘Huh?’ you think, ‘and there I was thinking that Min condoned threats after what she said in the last paragraph’. Well I do, and I don’t, it depends. That’s a whole new blog.
I’ve been making beads and not taking pictures of them so my best ones are currently unrecorded. I hope to turn that around soon and give my visitors something new to see, a couple of days should do it. Unless I find myself back in the shed, in which case we’re back to square one.
Probably I should get dressed and make a plank into a sign now…and of course when I have, there will be a photo of it on the site, and an email of triumph to those who doubt my true dominance in shed signage, he he he…