Posted by: diywannabe | December 17, 2010

She’s Crafty

No, not like a fox.  More like a grandma.  You need to watch out for those grandmas…they’ll getchya.  Not really.  But what I mean by crafty is that I want to be crafty like Martha Stewart but in a less there’s-a-stick-up-my-butt kind of way.  You see, when I see a project idea that I can fake/copy/reproduce I get excited.  Simply giddy.  Kind of like this guy:

Sometimes these grand plans I think up in my head keep me awake at night.  And let’s be clear about one thing- I am usually not creative enough to think of these things on my own.  Rather, I see a project or craft that gets the wheels turning and sends me down a trial-and-error path of how I can modify that same deal for my own home.  And more often than not these projects don’t get completely finished or blow up in my face.  I’d like to think a lot of it has to do with lack of time.  I work full-time, have a puppy that needs attention, and a husband whose idea of a good time is not sewing. 

Another hurdle that I’m constantly faced with is lack of supplies.  When I see a project that interests me I want to do it and do it NOW!  Unfortunately, the only big box craft stores are located in a very inconvenient and seedy town some distance away.  I think my husband wakes up each and every morning and thanks his lucky stars for this fact.  Otherwise we might be poor and up to our eyeballs in scrapbook paper and thread.  And on that note, I’d like to ask those stores why they thought it was a better idea to locate their ONLY stores smack dab in the middle of the ghetto and crack dens rather than near all the suburban stay-at-home moms with money to burn?  I’m talking to you Michael’s and A.C. Moore!

Okay enough of the rant.  In the next post let’s take a look at some examples of my craftiness attempts.  Personally, I’d declare them each an overall success but I had to jump some of those hurdles to get there and in a case or two I actually came up to the hurdle and gave up.  Hurdles are hard.  Ask my husband…he jumped those things on the high school track team.  Crazy son-of-a-bitch.  And no, that is not an insult to my mother in-law.

And since I don’t want anyone coming after me for stealing, that giddy photo was found here.


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