A Lot of Things Different

So yesterday I went on...and on...about trying some new things. I was going to do the yarn dyeing and I was going to try my hand again at making stitchmarkers this time making them with Mr. Honey because he likes that kind of thing.

Well, maybe he doesn't. I'll tell you all about it right after this photo of the end results:


It started out innocently enough. I made a very good dinner and asked him if he wanted to see the idea of the stitchmarkers I had and he came back with 'sure.' So, I showed him and showed him the part I needed his help on. He made one and looked as if he wasn't happy with it and then I asked him: "Would you like to see the written instructions?" Oh, the look.

What? I didn't mention there were written instructions?

I printed them out and he read them over and made some grunts and noises and we put together a couple of markers he announced it was frustrating and since this was 'my thing' it wasn't a frustration he needed.

How could I have been so wrong? Perhaps, I wasn't. Read on.

I certainly understood the frustration and so I asked him to just talk me through it and I would learn the part that was giving me fits.
He did that....after making about four more markers.

Huh?

Mr. Honey (and other Mr. Honeys around the globe, I suspect) has this habit of making noise about something being frustrating or hard or something other than the easiest thing in the world and when given the choice to leave it alone, will not leave it alone less their card and membership from the Testosterone Club for Real Men be revoked. When I reached for the tools he moved them away from me and gave the gruff order for me to 'start lining up words.'

Of course I did what I was told and it was maybe twenty minutes later he showed me his tricks and left me with the instructions to do ten more before I came to bed.

I did my before bed homework and when I came downstairs, he was at the table tidying up those that I left imperfect. He had split the pile in two: acceptable and not so much and declared when he went to the Testosterone Temple (Menards) on the morrow, he would get me a set of the proper tools I needed and one of those trays where I could keep my beads and supplies in order.

So what will happen with the completed stitchmarkers? The ones declared really good will go on sale in the shop. The ones that are flawed will go on sale in the shop as flawed with a price reduction - because Mr. Honey's definition of flaw means he didn't do it himself and he could tell mine from his. My definition is: None of them will snag yarn, they are fully functional, the wire is not as pretty. And they will be called Mr. Honey Stitchmarkers. He got a kick outta that. Get this, he thinks we should offer to personalize them.hu

Do I know my Mr. Honey or what?12804