One year I made mason jar lamps filled with pine cones and gifted them to almost everyone in my family. Another time, I upcycled the baskets used to hold wedding paraphernalia on my big day. I painted them white and learned to sew by making liners out of fabric filled with tiny gingerbread men.
I think it’s pretty safe to say my family hated every one of my gifts. They didn’t even pretend with me…no putting out my lamps when I visited or filling my baskets with junk and stashing them in a corner. Nada.
I’ve long since come to my senses and stopped gifting handmade, unless I purchase my handmade on Etsy; however, when it comes to the world of arts and crafts, I tried my best.
I scrapbooked through the early days of nursing and two, four, and six o’clock feedings. I stamped a handful of cards that were never signed, sealed, and delivered, and I sewed my daughter cute dresses when she was little. I even made my son funny cartoon themed pants that lasted him through pre-school.
Once I stenciled a chair.
Through the years, I’ve released so much bad art into the world, it’s a wonder I keep trying. I think I must have inherited a randomly tenacious gene.
I wasted, in total, an entire semester of college on art classes. Now, don’t misunderstand, I wasn’t naive enough to think I harbored any talent. I just loved to make something out of nothing. I was the worst student in my drawing class. I think my professor broke out into a sweat when he saw me registering for Introduction to Graphic Design. I only passed my classes because someone had to get a C. The other students were way too talented to be considered mediocre.
My aunt, the one who has a shrine to her son, did not even save the portrait I drew of her beloved offspring.
That ought to tell you something.
Despite rejection, sneers, and a bundle of extra worthless college credits, I continued in my pursuit of creative genius. I have a six-foot long, 2 foot wide afghan. My husband says it belongs in a Mexican restaurant. The colors do suit a quesadilla, but who can use a blanket that’s only two feet wide, if that? Tacos and beans generally don’t make a person skinny enough to stay warm under my blanket-ette.
And now, I’m certain my children inherited this tenacious gene. Did you see our chickens? Or worse, the cows? My international cow??
When will the madness end?
Not anytime soon if my son can help it.
He’s officially creating practical and very usable duck tape art.
At least they make pretty duck tape nowadays, because he’s in the wallet making business.
Can’t beat something made in the U.S.A.
They are durable, large enough to fit quite the money roll, and water-resistant…not to mention the lovely color that matches my nail-polish almost perfectly.
What more can you want or need in a wallet?
He asked if he can get a credit card to go in his designated card slot. I told him he has a library card and he’s already overdue on that bill. There will be no credit cards for many, many years to come.
I wish John’s Wallet Co., Made in the U.S.A., much success – more than even my mason jar lamps.
FringeBoy declined a photo shoot with his wallet.
What about you and your family? Do you too share this tenacious creative gene?
BTW here is the nail polish FringeKid and I are loving.
There’s nothing like having disco-ball nails on a dreary winter day. They turn SAD to G-L-A-D.
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It was just an ordinary day.
With my extraordinary family.
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