Current mood:	pensive
Current music:	Walking Dead, Z-Trip, Chester Bennington!!! – Shifting Gears
Entry tags:	imp impique angora "furnace glass beads"

More Fun Than a Basket of Imps
Yeah, imps can be pain in the sitter downer, but they can be a pretty lot of fun if you catch them when they're babies (impiques) and teach them some manners. They're still going to be impish, that's their nature. Imps have little or no impulse control ;-), hence the name, or maybe hence the word. Huh. Never thought about that before. Anyway, I isolated them from their progenitor, so at least they didn't have that bad influence.

They have such a bad rep, but a lot of times it's totally not fair. Like today, well, later on that. I'm not supposed to give them treats because that just encourages them to stay. But I'm a planet healer, so it's what I do. My mom knows this, but that doesn't mean I won't get the squinty eye when she finds one of them playing in her bead bowl.

I'm mentioning this because we had an imp reproduce in our storeroom. Why everything goes for the storeroom, I don't know, but they do. I mean, I guess I can see why the angora bunnies keep trying to hide in there, all that fluffy, fuzzy yarn must feel like Mom to them. Heh. But full grown imps really make a mess.

Anyway, Stace was here on the weekend, helping me unpack a shipment of beads. The fragile beads like the glass, or the ones that can be marred or scratched, like pearls, we keep in special containers that are padded and lined. Well, Stace was putting away some handblown furnace glass beads (don't worry what this means, just know they're expensive). So, he opens the special case for them, and there, stretched out, sound asleep, in one of the channels was an impique.

Stace squealed like a girl and threw those pricey beads in the air. My mother came running from the front, along with every customer in the place. When she saw about $500 worth of stock hitting the floor, I was glad she's a white witch, or I'd have been been jumping around, croaking like a frog or something. And it's so unfair. The poor impique was just taking a nap. I was really steamed at Stace, but it's only a few more days until he leaves for Scotland, and I don't want to fight with him.

So, now I don't get to go down to Oregon with her to visit the wool sculpture lady, Raven. She does some really cool stuff, but I love to go to visit the little sheepies. The lambs are so precious. Their legs are stiff like sticks, and they fall over if you startle them. And they startle easily. I'm home baking scones, while my mother's down there. Pout.

Stace is coming over in a few minutes, and we're going to work on this role playing game the little geek is coding. I meant that in a nice way. Those smooth guys are so boring. At least Stace can talk about something besides sports and cars. But, who knows, maybe he'll be a car geek when he gets his license. ;-)))

Griz