Birds Buttons & Fire

I love it when friends come to visit and they're willing to spend time with me in my studio.  M and I spent yesterday enameling in ye olde workshop.  It was far too hot to be running a kiln but it was so much fun, we were able to ignore our sweat trickling down our backs.

It was hot as Hades in there.

So I dressed the part and wielded my little pitchfork with glee.

The results:

Mexican fire opal, sterling silver and enameled copper buttons (made by me in my kiln here at The Gables).

Photographed and in the Etsy shop later today!

Happy Monday to you all!

Let's leave last week behind

 and stroll into the new week 

with bright flames atop our fingertips.

XO

Morning in the Garden of Eden

STOPPING TO SMELL THE ROSES

AND THE CAT

MY FIRST POPE JOHN PAUL THE II BLOOM

NECTAR OF THE GODS I TELL YOU

SO FRAGRANT

I'D LIKE TO CLIMB INTO THE HEART OF IT

IN THE CABBAGE PATCH

I THOUGHT TO MYSELF:

PEOPLE ARE A LOT LIKE CABBAGES SOME ARE PLUMP AND ROUND AND LOVELY AND OTHERS HAVE WORMS IN THEIR HEARTS

A BIT CYNICAL...I KNOW....BUT SO VERY TRUE

RAMBLING PAST THE DELPHINIUMS

TARRYING AT THE LUPINS

BEAMING DOWN ON THE YARROW

PRAYING FOR SQUASH

ACROSS THE PETUNIA PATCH

OVER TO THE SPRADDLED HOLLYHOCKS

WHAT'S FOR DINNER

LOVEY DOVEY MISTER PINKY

THINNING THE BEETS

BECAUSE GOOD THINGS NEED SPACE TO GROW

SQUASHING THE TWERP

SENDING YOU LOVE AND SMIRKS

SQUANDERING SUMMER LIKE IT'S A HANDFUL OF PENNIES

Post Script:

1.  New water main = perfection.

2.  Had RW on the telly line at midnight.

3.  Going to the market with M.

4.  Zucchini fritters for breakfast.

5.  And a huge thank you to all the ladies and gents

who were kind and gracious to me this week.  It's a joy to know 

you, to have your support and to feel the warmth of your

goodness.

There aren't any worms in your little cabbage hearts.

No not one.

XO

The Death of the Hold

I do so hate to do a blog post without a photo or two but this one is strictly business:

It is with great regret and a dash of sadness that I am announcing the death of the "Hold" in my Etsy shop.  Placing holds is a service I have offered my dear ladies and gents for the past two years I've had an Etsy store.  I  was always more then happy to hold an item for a gal who had to wait on a paycheck before making a purchase.  After placing two holds this week I've had a heap of feedback and questions about it and have officially decided that I can no longer offer holds.  So sorry.  I'm quite sad about it.

Also, I've had a good deal of feedback from people this week on my rather unorthodox shop updating tactics.  Some of you like it when I list jewelry randomly and others like it when I post an update time on my blog so that an entire day isn't spent refreshing an Etsy page.  I've been trying to do a combination of surprise and organized shop updates but when I'm holding the fort in the summertime it's even harder for me to nail down a time when I'll be able to list new work.  This said, I will make a divine effort to do more scheduled shop updates from this point forth as well as smatterings of surprise listings (which I love so very much).

Sorry for putting on this stiff and starchy power suit to wear to work today

thanks for attending the meeting!  Hope all is clear as crystal!  

MMMMMMMMMM  CRYSTALS...

Warmly,

Jillian Susan Lukiwski 

PS  I took a bath in a rubbermaid container in my backyard in the dark tonight.  Skinny dipping alone is a bore.

And this from Dorothy, among some other wonderful notes:

"Thanks for creating such a warm bright space to visit in the ether."

...buoying me up.

Rhythm:

Last night,
late,
my phone rang.
It was him. Up in the North country where the taiga rambles for miles before shrinking into the tundra and the black spruce fade to grey in the eternal twilight.
The call came from up North and he told me of his travels. The long flight from Boise. The bumpy trip by road and then a helicopter flight into a remote section of the state.

A place that has no roads.
Not for miles.

For a moment. For what felt like eternity. I felt panic coursing through my veins. I felt it pounding in my temples. I felt that I might not ever see him again, that the North might claim him and swallow him up whole. The North leaves no trace of a person when it takes them like that. I thought the fires he fights might turn him black and leave only his band of gold upon the muskeg.

When he disappeared on the end of the line, abruptly, I was very still in the dark of my room. Eyes wide open. When the sun began to rise I finally drifted off to sleep. When I rose from my rest I found my rhythm again, even though life seems to be missing a beat.

*I blogged about this necklace two days ago but I wanted to share the prose I wrote to go with the piece here, in this space.  True story.  I meant to write it all down the other night when I was swimming in my tears in the dark but I couldn't bring myself to rise up off my back and grasp a pencil and paper.  So here it is now.  Rhythm.

A Quick Life Update:

My most sincere apologies 

for the non-update I performed today!  

The listing dilemma did NOT stem from computer issues or other technological mishaps but from the large leak/break in my main water line beneath my lush green lawn in the front yard.

Old Faithful has relocated, apparently.

RW is in Alaska on a fire so it's been up to me to bandage the pipe wound (or at least find someone who can rip the old one out and install a new one--hardly as simple as it sounds...the ripping out part that is...) and I spent nearly the entire day phoning around, gathering quotes and bids for the fix-it job.  Then the lovely M arrived at my house so sister Toby Beth and I whipped up a couple of pizzas for dinner and now I'm just getting to work, in my lonesome old bed.

I really don't know what to say.

Despite the good company, I feel defeated today.

Like Raggedy Jilly.

Yep.

I do.

A few ladies asked about Pinkerton the other day so I thought you'd enjoy this sequence of snapshots I took this afternoon between consultations with the very best excavation experts Pocatello has to offer:

PAUL MEWMAN

WATCHING TOBY BETH FINISH HER MILK

...

...I wonder if he could squeeze his entire body in there?

Peaches For Sale

You'll find these ladies in the Etsy shop tomorrow, whenever I have a chance to sit down and list them:

From left to right:

laguna agate, green rutilated quartz, green chrysoprase

in Soul Garden format and random happy format.

...and this one?

Well, God made the stone and I set it in silver.  

AMETHYST.  Simply.  Purely.  

In its intended form.  

Last gasp reaction at its very finest.  

Exposed, jagged little crystals thrusting themselves upwards.  Yeesh.  Someone get me a chair.

Meant for a woman with a majestic heart and soul.

I always get a little bit swoonish when I'm around my birthstone.

Newbie Newbertons

Everyone, this is Sharlee!

Sharlee, this is everyone!

This little lady is cute as a button quail and she's my new helper here at Plume Gables.  She and I just finished up packaging and shipping the jewelry orders from this week.  I like her quite a lot and you will too!

I THOUGHT AN INTRODUCTION WAS IN ORDER SINCE YOU'LL GET THE ODD ETSY CONVERSATION AND EMAIL FROM HER.

Back to work now.

XO

Outrageous. Oui?

Good day to you kittens and tom cats!

I'm home from Canada.  I feel like I was away for an exorbitant amount of time.  But it was a very good exorbitant amount of time.  I feel well rested, fat and lazy.  I need more vacations.

Top five things about being home in Idaho:

1.  THE ROSE GARDEN!!!  Oh good gracious.  I'm gazing at it while I type this.  It's so delicate and feminine.  I'm caught off guard when I go to clip bouquets for the house and I'm prickled half to death by their testy little thorns.

2.  RW.

3.  Having my little sister, Toby Beth, in my Idaho home for the first time ever.  What a delight!

4.  My neighborly friends dropping in for coffee and hellos.  How nice.

5.  Those green mountains and that lush garden of mine.  Perfect companions.

6.  OOPS.  I have one more thing for the list!  I arrived home to the perfect mountain of snail mail from some of you.  Good grief.  I'm working my way through it.  It's like peach pie that pile of mail; I'm savouring it bit by bit.  Thank you! XO

I opened up the Etsy shop late last night and will be listing this and that as I slowly off-load my Missoula inventory as well as the things I'll be crafting this week.

Heading for the shop today is this outrageous ring I made a couple of months ago:

It features dendritic opal of the snowiest persuasion as well as a hand cut snowshoe hare.  I had a dream about a rabbit on the tundra and built the dream when I awoke the next day.  Some dreams exist to be made -- this is one of those.  You will find this little fellow in the shop today!

I hope you are all well!  I missed you so while I was away.

Hope your Canada Day and Independence Day were well spent in the company of friends and family!  What amazing countries we live in!

Smoochie smoochie,

Jillian Susan

PS  Thank you for your kind and wonderful comments on my photo blog posts from Saskatchewan.  I'm going through flatlander withdrawal today.  Le sigh. 

A MA CABANE

BETWEEN ME AND THE SAND

A GREAT WHITE MAN FROM THE GREAT WHITE NORTH

AUNT ERICA AND LITTLE FARLEY BRAVE THE WAVES

POINTING PIPERS

A MA CABANE

AVAILABLE: ONE FINE FISHERMAN

RACING WIND

HEADED TO THE GREEN BEYOND

SISTERS

FINDING THE DOOR

ENTERING IN

PRAIRIE LILY

STALWART

DESPITE THE WIND

WE CAN DRIVE IT HOME

WITH ONE HEADLIGHT

COMING ON

BRACING AGAINST THE BREEZE

A THISTLE WEARS ITS HEART ON ITS SLEEVE

KEEP A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW

SO I CAN ALWAYS FIND MY WAY HOME

HOME

is such a delicate word

defined in so many unspeakable ways

written on our hearts where no one can see

home IS where the heart is

home is with my man

home is the northern great plains: Saskatchewan

home is Idaho with my grape vines wrapped round me, tendrils tight, fruit bright

Some places draw me to them.

Some places I will forget.

Some places perch upon the throne of my heart

for now and evermore because when we are together, there's no telling where the one begins and the other ends.  I've got prairie beneath my nails: I'm named for the lilies there.  My blood runs black as the soil in a wheat field.  I don't ever leave, I just let the land play tug-of-war with my soul until I see the light in the window and return home.  Wandering.  I'm wandering.

KEEP A LIGHT IN THE WINDOW

SO I CAN ALWAYS FIND MY WAY HOME