Winter beading
It’s a wonder that northern countries like Canada and Norway are not world leaders in beading, because when the long cold winter sets in Beading becomes my passion, the longer the winter the more beading, the deeper the freeze the more absorbed I become in my little jars of beads. Ahh a harm fire is great as long as my bead jars are next to me, warming my hands with creative sparks and flames.
I all started on a long, lonely cold night-TV was beyond boring that night and my long neglected bead collection called out to me from a box tucked away on a high inaccessible shelf. The beads spoke eloquently “why have you left us alone up here? Did we do something wrong? Their tiny crystal mouths shouted. I decidedly lazy, thought the beads were crazy. “I’m watching the Gilligan’s Island marathon” I moaned to the petulant beads sitting in their glass prisons waiting for their winter liberation.
The beads finally won, Gilligan the skipper too, the millionaire and his wife, the movie star, the professor and Maryanne would all have to wait on my precious beads as they awakened from their summer slumber. Now they are dancing and singing and I am beading and stringing.