I make all my pieces to withstand the rampages of a marauding gorilla, because I hate repairing anything. I always double thread, double crimp, glue all knots and generally do anything that results in something that is going to outlast me. However, I did not plan on the amazing wrecking powers of my DD.
Let me explain: a couple of weeks ago, I made a right angle weave bracelet out of olivine FP crystals, accented with little lavender flowers. DD loved it, and asked for it. She especially loved the magnetic clasp, and I added a little "safety chain" out of more beads, just in case the clasp came open. She put it on, I forgot I had even made it, and life was good.
Fast forward to yesterday. DD asks me if I can repair her bracelet. I am atonished, saying that quadrupled passes of Fireline don't usually break. But I'd like to see the bracelet, and I'd fix it. She tells me that the bracelet needs to be washed first (?), but will give it to me later, when I'm in my bead chair. (I bead in a recliner in the living room, so I can be with the family)
Some time later, DD brings me the bracelet. It is unrecognizable. The beads are scratched and scuffed, the thread is all pulled apart, and a few forlorn lavender flowers are hanging from the tatters. The magnetic clasp is still there, though. I asked what happened. The child tells me "she dropped it."
"From where? into a bullring?" I say.
DD blushes, shuffles her feet, and I know that there is a good tale coming. "I dropped it in the schoolyard. When I picked it up, it was like that."
"Ummmmm, when did you pick it up?" I probed.
"The next day. Or maybe a couple of days. Some of the school buses might have run it over, I think. Can you fix it?" she finally confesses.
No can do. I'll make her another bracelet. This time, I think I'm going to use E-6000 and glue it to her arm. :-)
Kathy N-V