Don’t call me crafty
As I was standing in line at Walmart the other day I started to look at magazine covers.
I always pick the wrong line in Walmart, so while the employee is having to call for a price check or is waiting for someone to fix her malfunctioning cash register, I have plenty of time to look at the contents of the shelves, debate on whether I really need that candy bar and check out Kim Kardashian on the front of ‘Cosmopolitan’.
But then there are always the other types of magazines like ‘Better Homes and Gardens’ and ‘Good Housekeeping.’ These magazines promise they can help you become a better gardener, make you more beautiful, teach anyone to be a chef and help you design your perfect dream home. They sound like they have the secret to everything right?
The only way I will ever read these magazines is if I’m in a dentist’s office. Maybe it is because I don’t have a family to keep healthy or the perfect home to decorate, but they have no appeal to me.
I am not what you would call ‘crafty.’ My idea of fun on a Saturday is not sitting around making wreaths out of ribbons to hang on my door. I do admire the women who have the patience and skill to do this type of thing though. How you ladies look at a shoebox and somehow turn it into a beautiful lamp shade is beyond me. I don’t actually know if that is possible by the way, but I’m sure some of you could figure it out.
Another reason I am not crafty is because I have never learned to sew, knit, quilt or really do anything that would help me out if my clothes ever ripped. I crocheted on a pillow once for a project in eighth grade. We were reading “Uncle Tom’s Cabin” at the time and if I remember correctly, my pillow had a cute little cabin on it. I was actually quite proud of it, but clearly I was not proud enough to learn how to do more.
If you handed me a needle and thread and told me to make one piece of fabric stick to another...well I would tell you that you are crazy and call my grandma. She knows how to do everything.
Grandma cooks, sews, crochets and she used to make pottery. When I was younger she and grandpa would let my brother and I try our hand at the pottery wheel. Ours never really looked like pots.
I think I get my non-crafty gene from my momma. She used to crochet some when I was a baby and she has tried to make our yard beautiful by planting various flowers around. She has her few success stories, but most of the time they don’t make it. She says she is just a plant killer.
At one point I decided to try scrap-booking. I love taking pictures and capturing memories, so I figured that putting them in a book and adding pretty stickers couldn’t be too hard right? Wrong. I was never satisfied with how my pages turned out, always wishing that I had done something differently. I even bought the scrapbook and printed out all of the pictures I would need to make one for my trip abroad to Spain and France. The stuff is still sitting in my bedroom at home, untouched.
I can’t help but wonder if these things will interest me one day? Will I ever have the ambition to complete a ‘do it yourself’ craft? Does it make me less of a woman that I would rather spend my free time watching Netflix than learn to knit?
I’m not giving up yet though. I still have faith that I can learn to do something crafty and awesome. Maybe one Sunday when I am bored I can find something fun to do that will give my apartment a little more personality. I will be sure to let everyone know if I come up with something great and I am always open to suggestions. All of you crafty men and women give me a call.