PotW 2/13/13

Hi, Everyone!

I'f you've tolerated these messages for a while, you know that I've written about Valentine's Day before.  The history of it.  When the first card was created.  The increasing commercialization of it. The ads whose less-than-subtle intent is to make men (for the most part) feel like they ought to go splurge on a dozen over-priced, long-stemmed red roses, fine wine and chocolates.  Oh, and maybe a little something from Tiffany & Co. if it's "true love".  Failure to do so is punishable by guilt.

Not at my house.

Because evidently, according to the marketing gurus, I am not a "normal" female.

First off, I prefer yellow roses to red.  They were my favorite Aunt's favorite flower as well, which makes me cherish them even more.  Yellow roses mean 'friendship', and I made sure that my best friend, Andrew, knew early on in our relationship that he was not only under no obligation to buy me red roses on Valentine's Day, he was actually forbidden to do so.  No florists are getting rich off this girl on February 14th.

Second, I make jewelry.  And I try to wear what I make. (Otherwise it's a little hypocritical, right?)  So Tiffany & Co isn't making any money off this girl on February 14th, either.

So what do you get a "not quite normal" woman on Valentine's Day?  Or on other "commercially-sponsored gift-giving holidays"?

Well, I'll tell you:

One Valentine's Day, I got a case of beer. 

Hold on.  Before all the women at the bank start to beat Andrew to death for being a totally bad husband, I confess that it was exactly what I asked for: A case of "Crimson Voodoo" from New Orleans.   As the name would indicate, it is red, thus appropriate for Valentine's Day.  We had visited NOLA the prior Spring, and I had this beer during our trip and I really liked it.  So my sweet husband went to extraordinary lengths to get it for me.  Had a case of it flown to a local store just for me.  And it wasn't cheap (as beer goes).  A dozen roses?  Phooey.  I got TWO dozen reds, and they lasted a lot longer than flowers would have.  [*ML--remember sharing some of this with me??]

Of course, this did set a dangerous precedent for what constitutes "a good gift for Kim".....

One Mother's Day I got a riding lawn mower.

Ok, ok, ok... I may have asked for that, too.  I do all the rider mowing, and Andrew does all the push mowing (we mow 3+ acres), and the old mower I had was on its last leg...or wheel, to be precise.  So I asked for a NEW mower:  A John Deere.   (I may be abnormal, but clearly I appreciate quality.) Years later, I still love telling people I got a rider mower for Mother's Day and watching their reaction.  Priceless.  Usually followed by "You've been married HOW MANY YEARS???"

Then there was the Christmas that I got a hammer.

Now don't get your panties in a bunch on my behalf.  To this day, I LOVE that hammer.  I use it all the time.  And, as you may have guessed, it isn't any kind of ordinary, from-the-local-ACE-hardware-store kind of hammer.  Oh, no, no, no.  It is a hand-made silversmithing hammer with dual chisel faces and a perfectly balanced, hand-carved bloodwood handle that fits perfectly in my palm.  It weighs all of 7 oz...and price per ounce it was not inexpensive, (as hammers go).

Are you starting to agree that I'm not normal?

I've asked to go boating on my birthday, to play golf on our anniversary, and to hit the hay early on New Year's Eve so that we could get the first chair on the lift for New Year's Day.  Not normal, according to the "pamper your woman with extravagant gifts, spa weekends, Tiffany blue-boxes and new-cars-with-a-bow-on-top" Mad Men.

So what if I mess with their demographic studies.  Good for me!

A couple of weeks ago one of Andrew's friends commented that of the 50 or so skiers who were out in sub-zero temperatures for first tracks at 7:30am, I was one of only a couple of women.  He said "Where did you find her?"  Translation: "Not Normal".  I feel a little guilty that I am not a trophy wife every now and then.  Then I rip down Narrow Gauge--a trail at Sugarloaf that has been used for World Cup competitions and think: "Why would I want to fit that mold?"

I know there are others of you out there.  Recently a customer posted on FB that she was "exuberant" about an early Valentine's Day gift:  Down mittens with zipper pockets to hold hand warmers.  Ok, so she's another skier, and maybe we suffer from brain freeze...  Not normal.  But it's good to know I'm not alone.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day.

 And since I haven't made any 'overt' (think catalog pages and post-it notes that say 'I want this') abnormal gift requests, poor Andrew is probably getting a little nervous, knowing that the old fall-back for most guys of a dozen roses is not an option for him.  NOT an option.  (They will wilt and go to pieces while I am skiing for the next 10+days and I'd rather have a box of hand-warmers). 

Even though they say there is "a lid for every pot", and Andrew clearly has found a way to put up with me for going on 30 years, I feel bad for him sometimes.  Having to put up with an "abnormal" wife like me can't be all fun and games.

Well, sweetie---here's the most abnormal gift I've ever requested for Valentine's Day, and it's a HOT one.  Not sure you are up for it, but ready or not....here goes:

I'd really like an acetylene torch.

I know, I know, it's short notice.  And kind of scary.  But totally abnormal and just what you should expect from me at this point.  I have the page flagged in the jewelry supply catalog for you.

However, since we will be skiing together for 5 days and then you're waving good-bye so I can go to WA and ski with my sister, her husband and their littles, I will be perfectly happy with the following:  (I've tried to make it easy)

A GOOD bottle of red wine (Go see Mike Fear at Now You're Cooking and tell him I like Pinot Noirs or Malbecs) and

some GOOD dark chocolate, bonus points for truffles. (Bath Sweet Shoppe).  

Wine and Chocolate on Valentine's Day?  How cliche.  Confound you, conformity!  

But when you really think about it--I may be abnormal, but I am female.  Wine and chocolate are always a safe bet.

Until next week---Happy Valentine's Day!     (Check out the "NOT NORMAL" PotW on the website!)

  

Kim

PotW 2/7/13

Hi Everyone--

We interrupt this season of ski-bumming to bring you a new piece of the week!  Actually, I made 2 new pieces this week.  Got the website all updated a day early, too.  In my excitement, I published the photos of the two pairs of earrings I wanted to offer to you on Facebook.

And....within a matter of hours, I sold both pairs.  Leaving me with a big, gaping hole on the website and the need to find another item to offer you.

Then I posted a photo of a custom order I had just completed.  It was too lovely not to share.  You know, just to inspire y'all.  A kind of "Lookie what you could order some time" kind of thing.

And I got 7 orders for those.

So...here I am in the weeds.  Scrambling to create substitute items for the people who wanted one of the first two photos I posted.  Hustling to shop for beads for the 7 pairs of earrings from my second photo posting.  Slaving away to get them done for Valentine's Day...delivered, mailed...whatever it takes.  

Eyeing a certain Nor'Easter that is headed this way with the promise of lots of new fresh stuff for Friday skiing....

Like Bullwinkle, I managed to pull a rabbit out of my hat only to find it was a lion.

But I'm busy.  And happy.  And somehow managed to find something totally new to offer you in spite of myself.

Red.  For Valentine's Day.  ONE OF A KIND.  Get 'em while you can.  

See them on the website.  Link below my signature.

Until next week--If I'm not at the bench...I'll be on the hill!  Day #31 on deck!
Kim

Two Willows Jewelry

http://www.twowillowsjewelry.com

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PotW 1/23/13

Hi Everyone--

Here it is mid-January, and after a few days of January thaw last week, many of us find ourselves back in the deep freeze.  Although sunny, it's so cold outside that even my winter-loving dog doesn't want to be out for long.  It's a good week to stay inside and try to get myself back on track, a task I have been doing my utmost to postpone, with amazing success.  That is, if you define success as being measured by the number of ski days I'm racking up.  Which is 26, by the way.

It's time for me to admit that I've been in 'work avoidance' mode.  Upon reflection, I believe that this happens every January, but this year it has been worse than usual.  I don't know how to explain it, and I wouldn't have thought anyone else out there could relate, until I received an e-mail from a fellow artisan that mentioned a sort of 'depression' that sets in time of year.  Not wanting to go into the shop.  Being in a bit of a creative rut.  Not knowing what to do next.  Dreading getting started on taxes.

And I thought: "Wow.  That's exactly how I feel!"

There is a kind of 'high' that comes with the rush leading up to Christmas.  A sense of urgency.  A sense of fulfillment as you receive customers and see their happiness with items you have created.  A warm glow that comes from being able to make something with your own two hands that someone else actually wants to give as a gift to someone they care about.  Sure, it's hectic at times to look at a work queue that's longer than you should ever have allowed it to get.  But that, too, brings a little bit of adrenaline- (and caffeine-) charged focus that in turns yields a sense of accomplishment as you check off and deliver one item after another.

Then comes January.  And, frankly, in terms of creative energy and impetus, it doesn't offer much.

Sure, I could be making a bunch of stuff to re-stock my seriously depleted shop displays.  I could at least be twisting up a new pair of earrings for the Piece of the Week.  I could be putting away the Christmas decorations that are still on display in the shop, and getting a jump start on items for summer retail accounts.  I could (perish the thought) be working on my taxes.

Why should I?  There is no sense of urgency!  There is no steady stream of visitors to the shop this time of year.  Everyone is tapped out from buying Christmas gifts, and this just isn't a busy time of year for us artisans, as my friend J.D. and others of you out there know.  So, to deal with my own creative crash following the Holidays, I've been skiing.  Call it "Downhill Therapy".

But now I'm home, and I realize that I have 4 pairs of custom earrings, one custom bracelet, and half a dozen retail items to make.  And I should probably start thinking about Valentine's Day items, because it'll be here before you know it.  Time to go turn on the heat in the studio. Re-stock the supply of cookies for Shop Doggie.  Put some fresh water in the quenching dish and some new diamond-coated bits in the drill.  Time to get busy and focus (on anythingthat will keep me from having to get started on taxes).

Check out the Piece of the Week on the website, made from Garnet, January's birthstone.  (I've also provided a link to another website if you want to read more about the historical uses of garnet.)  

Until next week---find your own kind of therapy to deal with the January slump!

Kim

Two Willows Jewelry

http://www.twowillowsjewelry.com

PotW 12/20/12

Christmas Greetings, Everyone!

I hope this finds all of you with things well under control, looking forward to spending Christmas with family and/or friends.  I'm a little behind here.  Architect of my own dilemma, I admit.  In the last 18 hours I have taken 4 more custom orders--once again pushing house cleaning, gift wrapping, grocery shopping etc. to the back burner.  It'll all get done...eventually.

The requests for custom work this year have been numerous, and I thank each and every one of you who has honored me with your orders.  I love the stories that come with each custom piece.  The names of loved ones that I get to stamp.  The locations of meaningful places.  The birthstones, favorite colors or "I need something to match..." design requests.  Creating a custom piece with a particular recipient in mind brings an emotional connection to the work that is gratifying in an entirely different way.  Thank you for entrusting these jobs to me.

Because I have been so busy, I haven't had time to create any new "Piece of the Week" designs, nor to do any new PotW messages.  I resolve to get back to both after the Holidays.  Until then, please allow an encore run of a message from Christmas past....

 
I present to you:  "Nativity Scenes"
 
Scene 1:
Nathaniel was 3, I think  and we were on our way home from his daycare provider one dark December evening.  As we did each morning and evening, we passed a lovely little country church, which had a beautiful nativity scene displayed on its lawn.  
 
Having read Nathaniel a children's version of the Christmas Story, I stopped the car, pointed at the nativity scene, and I said "Look, Nathaniel, it's baby Jesus!"   
 
To which he replied,  "Yup, just laying there in his sweaty clothes."
 
It's something of a Christmas miracle that we didn't end up in a ditch, I was laughing so hard.  I surely must have been under the protection of a Guardian Angel that evening.  One with a priceless sense of humor who just had to point out that 3 year olds don't see any difference between 'swaddling' and 'sweaty'.  I never see an outdoor nativity scene without flashing back to that evening.
 
Scene 2:
When Nathaniel was 5, I learned the Angel's name...   We were at Andrew's Mom's house, (whom we have lost since this was first written).  Nathaniel was playing with what I have come to regard as what may be "The Original Action Figures".  With that grand-motherly look of equal parts amusement and annoyance, My-My and the rest of us were watching Nathaniel re-arrange the nativity scene.  
 
In his version of Bethlehem, the Wise Men had been job-shifted into the role of shepherds (since they were on bended knee they weren't very 'action' like, I suppose, and were perfectly well suited for tending the flock by night when all the sheep were asleep anyway).  The shepherds were peaking out between the balusters of My-My's staircase on some kind of commando mission.   And the Angel was flying laps around the kitchen table (powered by Nate, who was powered by candy canes, no doubt).  Baby Jesus, was, as you guess, still lying around in his sweaty clothes.
 
"Now, Chicky-Bicky", said My-My (I hope he doesn't find out I let this nickname out of the bag) "Who do you have there?" 
 
"Gloria", he said as he did a fly-by of the table.  
 
"Gloria???", we asked.
 
"Yes, that's her name."
 
"Why do you think her name is Gloria?"
 
"It says so on her name tag".  
 
Indeed, the Angel was holding a banner between her outstretched hands that said "Gloria".  He must have asked someone what it said, had the question answered to his satisfaction and decided it must be her name.  So now, the Angel in any nativity I see is, of course, "Gloria".
 
Scene 3:
I was talking to my sister on the phone one day before Christmas, and there was a bit of a ruckus in the background.  When I asked her what it was, she turned to my then 4 year old nephew and said "What do you have there?"  
 
To which he replied, "A helicopter with Baby Jesus in it!  Mary and Joseph are in the airplane!"
 
It was a short conversation because we couldn't stop laughing.  I just wish I was there to see it.
 
Like I said, the "Original Action Figures", once again escaping the confines of the creche, thanks to the pure, uninhibited spirit of a child.
 
As I finish writing this, it occurs to me that 3 of my all-time favorite Christmas memories center around the Nativity.  Not Santa.  Not presents.  Not the hustle and bustle.  Just the gift of a child, bringing joy and light into our lives.  Like that very first Christmas.
 
There is no Piece of the Week this week----Just a wish that all of you may be surrounded by family, friends and your own precious memories of Christmases past.  
 
Until Next Year- God Bless us, Everyone.
Kim

PS--In re-reading this, I can't help but think of those CT families who have been robbed of seeing theirbeloved littles beam with innocent joy during the days, weeks and years ahead.  Please, keep them in your prayers.  And hug your own littles tight every chance you get.

PotW 11/20/12

Good morning, All!
 
Along with everyone else, I am scrambling to get ready for the big eat on Thursday, so I thought I would re-share this Thanksgiving-related story: 

(If you recall this story from its original 2009 distribution, GOOD FOR YOU!  Pat yourself on the back and scroll to the bottom for a special announcement*)

 
Our tale began over 170 years ago, on the island of Nantucket in a small, family-owned shop.  The young hero of our story, Rowland, though from a comfortably prosperous Quaker family, was determined to strike his own path in life, and at the age of 15, left his father's business and set sail aboard one of the many whaling ships that called Nantucket home.
 
After 4 years at sea, during which time he acquired a tattoo that we have all seen-- (I'll get to that later), he returned to Nantucket and worked in his father's shop for 3 years, until the tired of island life and moved to Boston.  There he opened his own needle and thread store, which soon went bankrupt.  Determined not to return home and to make his own way beyond the confines of Nantucket, he tried selling dry goods, but this store, too, went bankrupt.  Grudgingly, he worked briefly in his brother-in-law's Boston shop, but fled to California when the gold rush began in 1849.
 
Finding no wealth out West, and having lost a substantial amount of money on a land investment scheme in Wisconsin, Rowland returned to Massachusetts in 1851 and in partnership with his brother, opened a dry goods store. The store was a modest success, but Rowland was soon bored with small town living, and moved to New York City, where he opened a small shop in a low-rent neighborhood, a fair distance from the prosperous retail district of town.
 
Rowland's store became known for its then-innovative policy of marking prices on items rather than haggling with customers, and advertised its prices in eye-catching newspaper ads which featured the store's logo--a replica of Rowland's tattoo (more on that in just a bit).  Shrewd with public relations, Rowland made sure that reporters learned that he had promoted a floor saleswoman to the position of Store Manager in 1866, making her the first woman to hold an executive post with a major American retailer.  In another clever marketing move, Rowland employed the first in-store Santa Claus, and is credited with making Christmas a major retail event in the U.S.  By the late 1860's, the store's sales were thousands of dollars per day.
 
By the time of his death in 1877 at the age of 55, Rowland's store had added multiple product lines to its offerings and had bought up 10 neighboring buildings, creating what was dubbed the first "department store". 
 
In 1896, Rowland's business was purchased by the Straus brothers, who moved the store 20 blocks uptown.  There, it continued to grow and prosper, again buying up surrounding properties until it occupied all of a single city block...almost.  You see, there is a little brownstone whose owners refused to sell out as the retail giant gobbled up everything around them, instead negotiating a VERY lucrative annual lease with the retailer that continues to this day.  If you've ever been to Rowland's store, you know exactly where this little brownstone hold-out is, even if you don't realize it.  It's hidden behind a giant banner with Rowland's tattoo (more on that very soon!) and the words "The World's Largest Store". 
 
So Thursday, when you are stuffing your turkey and watching the Under Dog balloon as he rounds the corner into Herald Square--where you see the large banner with the Red Star (Rowland's tattoo)--feel free to go all "Cliff Clavin" and amaze your family with this bit of retail trivia about Macy's department store and what lies behind the banner!
  

 Until next week-- Listen to "Alice's Restaurant", count your blessings and have a Happy Thanksgiving!
Kim

www.twowillowsjewelry.com

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PotW 11/14/12

Hi Everyone, and Happy Wednesday!

Hear that humming in the background?  Not yet?  Listen carefully...its the unmistakeable sound of the holiday treadmill warming up...going just a little faster each day, until it hits warp speed and all of us are running around out of breath.  Next week is Thanksgiving, for Pete's sake!  How did that happen?  Makes me wish that life had an emergency stop button like a treadmill.  

This is the time of year that I start kicking myself for not starting my shopping earlier, planning menus sooner, etc.  Each year I swear that I will take more control and procrastinate less, and breeze through the Holidays with a beautifully decorated house, special appetizers, cute cookies, stylish outfits and aplomb.  Just like all those people on Pinterest do.  You know Pinterest?  That place where all the Martha Stewart wannabees and food bloggers post photos of their latest creations to show us all how we should be living?

Hear the humming yet?

I DO get a kick out of Pinterest.  I especially like reading the short snippet comments below the pictures about how this or that is "literally so good that your head will explode".  As if that would that be an incentive to try something?  Sounds painful to me.  Perhaps I am taking the comment too literally.

It's my new favorite grammatical pet peeve.  Literally.  Every time I read or hear someone say something like "I literally fell out of my chair", I think to myself:  Did it hurt?  Maybe they just felt silly and literally wanted to die of embarrassment.

I am still annoyed by the mis-use of your and you're.  I get riled up about the improper employment of their, there and they're.  Don't get me going about to and too or its and it's.  These little trip-ups literally make me insane.  Well, maybe not literally.  (Or maybe yes, literally...I am not a qualified diagnostician).  But nothing has come close to my new obsession with the epidemic mis-use of "literally".

I literally want to pull my hair out.  I could literally shake these people until their eyes pop out of their heads.  

The point is, literally should be used much less than it is these days.  And then, only when the speaker is trying to paint a graphic mental picture of what REALLY happened or what they REALLY want to happen.  Literally.  Otherwise, what is probably intended is "figuratively".  Not as sexy a word, I'll grant you that.  Literally doesn't roll off the tongue quite as smoothly.  Perhaps "metaphorically" should come back into vogue?  At least that one sounds brainy.  I have promised to re-pin any recipes or pictures that use the word metaphorically in their description.  Whether I like the featured food or not.

Anyhow....I have literally thousands (yes, literally) of pictures and recipes to hurry up and pin so that I know what I should look like, how my house should smell, and what I should be serving my guests as the Holiday treadmill picks up speed.  So I will close this message, with a reminder to get started on your shopping...place your custom orders soon to ensure they will be ready for Christmas.  Shop local whenever possible----you will literally have the thanks of your small business owner neighbors. 

A new Piece of the Week is posted.  No particular tie in to this week's message.  An unusual pairing of pearls with copper---avant garde styling that goes perfectly with cookie baking, garland-twisting, cranberry sauce making, light stringing, card signing, gift wrapping and all those other things on your to-do list.  Or Pinterest boards.  

Hear that humming sound yet?

Kim

Two Willows Jewelry

http://www.twowillowsjewelry.com

POTW 11/8/12

Hi All-

I was trying to think of an appropriate post-election offering for this week's feature---but I don't want to make any kind of a "red" or "blue"-aligned statement in the process.  We all have our opinions.  Some of us woke up to happy news yesterday and some of us didn't.  Yesterday morning the negative ads on tv were gone (finally, thank you), but taking their place in the steel cage match of opinion were the negative and gloating comments on FB and the Tweet-o-sphere.  

I opted for a status update quote from the Rolling Stones: "You can't always get what you want."  It may apply to you.  It may apply to me.  It is neither a red comment nor a blue one.  It's just a statement of fact.  You start to learn this lesson as a very young child.  You spend the rest of your life practicing your response to it.  I retreated to the studio for the day until the malay subsided.

A friend reflected on yesterday's lack of civility thusly:  If we can't get along and set aside our differences to find common purpose, how do we expect our elected officials to?  Very insightful.  Begs the question:  Are we setting the example for them or are they setting the example for us?   Think about it.

The only thing I know for sure is this: We are all in this boat together, and if we could stop bickering and start rowing together, we might actually get somewhere.  Or, we can sit stubbornly, refusing to row anywhere because it is "our" direction, and continue adrift.  Complaining all the while, no doubt.  Some that others aren't rowing at all or enough.  Some that we don't want to row 'in that direction'.  Some that we are rowing harder than others.  Who would want to Captain this crew???

If WE, the People, are sincere in our pleas for compromise, for civility, for a change of 'tone', for reduced rhetoric, for productivity, for RESULTS, then, perhaps, WE should set an example for our leaders.  Set aside the labels of red states and blue states.  All that does is help tv producers whip up some snappy graphics.  Personally, I prefer the Rockefeller Plaza ice rink white.

It's time for some new colors.  Something less blue than navy.  Something less red than a fire truck.  It's time for.........

The Piece(s) of the Week.  See them on the website--link below my signature.

Until next week--Promote civility.  Elect to be kind.  Choose softer words.  Set the tone.

Kim

Two Willows Jewelry

http://www.twowillowsjewelry.com