Living In Harmony

Here I am, living the good life as my sister’s housekeeper while waiting for my social security disability checks.  I’ve read a veritable mountain of books this summer.  The house is clean, the laundry is folded, the plants are watered (most of the time) and the stress factor is manageable.  Still licking my wounds, so to speak.  Still dealing with lupus.  Still trotting off to the hospital every three weeks for IVIG treatment.  It could be worse.

However, I need to do something productive, creative and profitable.  So I decided to design and make jewelry.  I had the basic tools and materials, as I toyed with the idea a couple years back.  At the time, I made bracelets and earrings for Christmas gifts.

Living without a paycheck is a great motivator for thinking outside the box.  I have plenty of skill sets in a traditional work setting.  But my life is no longer what I consider “traditional.”  So after a lot of soul searching, I decided to launch my little jewelry making enterprise.

My business is called Harmony Beads.  “Jewelry in tune with every occasion.”

I know absolutely NOTHING about the jewelry-making business, but I’m a quick learner.  So far, I’ve managed to enter into a giant art fair in November, sell a few pieces to some friends, and sign up for a wire wrapping course at the university.  My sister, bless her heart, is hosting a jewelry premier party in October.  We’re serving wine and I hope everyone drinks and spends money.

In the meantime, I spend most of my time working at the dining room table where the light is good. I bought a stronger pair of reading glasses for obvious reasons.  I love making jewelry. The design inspirations are endless.  It fulfills my need for creativity.  The final products are tangible and satisfying without any calories.  There’s something fantastic about making something and being pleased with the results of your creation.  It’s akin to the joy having children without the hassle of raising them.

My cat Tigger usually keeps me company.  He likes to lay on paper and plastic things.  He also waits around to chase the occasional “flying bead” when I knock something over.  Last Saturday night he hit the jackpot when an entire tray of pearls spilled all over the floor.

I’ve managed to stay out of the pool halls and biker bars.  So far.

If this little enterprise takes off and does well, I’ll be a happy camper.