My ears, now they are pretty.

For quite a long time now, I’ve been wanting to try my hand at jewelry making. I’ve wanted to make bracelets and necklaces and earrings. I even bought a little cheap set and sat down with my daughter to make a few things. We made a necklace and a couple of bracelets. They didn’t turn out too badly, either. But they were very pink and little girl looking, so it was nothing I’d really wear.

(This is the point when my husband says, exasperatedly, “But you don’t wear ANY jewelry!” And I say to him, “I know, but I want to MAKE some.” And his head explodes because he cannot understand to desire to make something you don’t even wear. Men, they always need a REASON.  Sheesh.)

So anyway, this desire to make jewelry had reached a point that I could not take it anymore. While I was in the craft aisle buying things for my son’s class, I picked up some supplies to make earrings.

And look! I made an earring:

And now, earrings (plural!)

And more earrings!

And I am sitting here typing, wearing my earrings, and remembering why it is I don’t wear earrings. They feel a little funny in my ears. I feel like I should sit really still, lest these things I have put through holes in MY EARS decide they need to get caught on something a rip themselves violently out of my ears.  Okay, deep breaths, deeeeeep breaths.

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