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Crafty Isn't Her Calling Card

After she was unable to find garland adorned with ornaments, the Brunette Lucy set out on a mission to make one ...

I often tease about being crafty; I’m being facetious. Martha Stewart would have a heart attack at my house. The only thing we have in common is cooking. Crafting is for people with patience.

I was watching her show the other day, and she was showing off obvious labor- intensive homemade Christmas presents. I’m sure if one of my kids had made one of them for me, I’d be thrilled. However, these were produced to be gifted upon your children. All I could think of, though was what 16-year-old wants a set of coasters made out of gift wrap? As an adult, I’d think they were adorable. My kids, however, would be unwrapping them as they searched for the real present.

And if I’m being honest, I don’t own coasters – a magazine or newspaper works just fine, if we use anything. Plus, we have “kid-friendly” furniture (translation: really cheap, easily replaceable, and with no sentimental value whatsoever). A hole in a sock can easily be fixed with a safety pin, super glue, or just thrown away. At my house, a sewing machine would be purely decorative. But, we would get a good laugh if someone remarked that they didn’t know I sewed.

All that being said, I have to admit I actually did something really, really crafty one year. I’d been out shopping at a mall, and fell in love with those huge, bushy garlands, dripping with ornaments. I went everywhere in a quest to buy one for my banister. Sadly, I had no luck.

Well, I’ll just make one myself, I thought.

That should have been my first clue – that I was thinking about crafting anything - ever. But, once I get an idea, it’s pretty much a done deal. Don’t judge me.

I realized that I was going to have to buy several artificial garlands and figure out a way to secure them together. I was determined to imitate the lush decorations that I’d envied at the mall. After several failed attempts, I knew what I was afraid would be the case. I needed to use wire; and even sharper wire cutters.

You know, you’d think I’d have stopped when I had that revelation. Take sharp wire, sharper cutters, then add me to the mix and you’ve got the recipe for guaranteed disaster. And unfortunately, this wasn’t going to be any different.

I began the difficult task of cutting the wire, then wrapping the sharp wire around the garland. The week after my fingers healed, I set about stringing the lights. At this point, I should add that one of the few things I’d never experienced in my life was an electrical shock.

That has now been rectified.

Two weeks, several trips to the craft store, countless bloody finger pricks and a few glue gun burns later, I stood back and congratulated myself on a massively bushy garland fit for any mall. It was time to light her up and gloat.

I probably should have considered making it closer to the banister, though – all 15 feet of it. I had to call the girls, a bunch of times. They had pretty much avoided me during this project; it was probably better that way. I’ve never been one to curse, but that, too, was rectified during the project.

We began to lug what was now being called, “The Beast” to its resting place. It took a few hours and we broke several ornaments, but we finally had The Beast up.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t half bad. And after we’d vacuumed up the mess all over my living room floor, the hall, and down the stairs, it actually looked pretty. We were ready to light it up.

And the cursing began anew.

Stay tuned for Part Two – Revenge of the Beast.

 

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