Beads? Really?

Oh, boy, ya'll, I got into so much trouble last night.
And by "trouble" I don't mean to imply that Hubby was yelling and throwing stuff, he totally isn't that type. It was more a matter of spousal disapproval brought on by the fact that I was supposed to be picking up the Chinese take-out for dinner, but didn't get home until 8 p.m.
Oops.

It's his own fault, really.
We bailed on going grocery shopping Sunday like we should have, which resulted in me going alone on Monday.
I thought to myself, "Since I'm all the way down there anyway, I might as well swing wide and go to Micheal's and get the thread for the Damn Doily."
Of course, since I hardly ever go there, I had to scope out their yarn section. Even though I'm a yarn snob, it's good to know what is available.
Then I thought, "I wonder what is in the bead section." Which I never do.

Depending on your definition
I don't consider myself a "craft" person. I suppose some people would say knitting and crochet are crafts, but when I hear the word "crafts" I think scrapbooking, stenciling, and decoupage.
Although I guess decoupage is really more of an artform...
Anyway
I think crafts are any of those activities that involve glue and paint and glitter, so I'm usually pretty immune to the stuff that store stocks.

Needs Must
There was a method to my madness on this occasion.
When mom, Aunt K, and I were out in California, uh, two years ago for my younger cousin's wedding we went to Fisherman's Warf.
(The wedding was in October so Hubby couldn't come because of school. This is my younger cousin who is now pregnant for whom I still haven't started a blanket or other type of baby gift.)
I wandered into a store with imported goods from Africa and bought some beads with the grand scheme of turning into stitch markers. (Those are the loose ones in the picture.)
They came with a length of leather cord, which would be handy if I was making a necklace, but no help at all for stitch markers.
So the beads have floated around in my notions box all this time because I was stymied, because I don't do crafts.

Magpie
But I took myself in hand and braved the bead isle.
And was immediately fascinated by all the shiny stuff.
I was just after some wire, but then thought I should get some beads as well since I'll have tons of leftover wire and nothing to do with it.
Then, of course, it was a matter of deciding what colors to get.
And there were these little boxes full of assorted beads—"Enough for 8 bracelets!"—but that seemed like to much of a commitment.
And a bunch of stuff was on sale. "Look, it's only $1.50!"
So I $1.50ed myself into a $10 purchase (including the crochet thread).
I got a baggy of red beads shaped like flowers, green beads shaped like leaves, silver spool spacers beads, and silver crimp tubes.

Enough to be Dangerous
Yeah, no, I just read those off the bags, I have no idea what they mean.
I based my purchases on the elements that are in the stitch markers I made in Lake Placid.
I was rather pleased with myself for thinking to get the crimp tubes because I think those are what they used to clamp the wire shut at the bottom of my markers.
I figure I'll be able to combine these all into a variety of mutant markers. Since they will be my unique creations, I will think they are adorable while other think they are hideous.
But everyone will be too polite to say anything.

Will Power in Action
The other side of the isle was hung with strings of stone for making jewelry. Some of it was on sale as well.
I spent quite a bit of time dithering over getting some, but none of it really jumped out at me.
I realized I was just getting caught up in the excitement of it all and managed not to buy any.
I hightailed it out of there, but it was already after 7 p.m. If I stuck with just the grocery shopping I probably would have been home by 7.
When I called Hubby at 7:30 to see if he had called in the food order, he was stunned at my lack of progress. (I had called him for the grocery list when I was heading into Micheal's, so he thought he had a handle on my timeline.)
So when I finally got home, he was scandalized—and hungry.
But at least he had fed the dogs.