She is one crafty wench. When I look at her endlessly fabulous ideas in magazines, I alternate between "I could do that" and "She has staff, for chrissakes". No mortal human, even one such as myself who feigns towards artsy-craftsiness, could keep up with her enthusiasm for making everything she touches look like a million bucks. Of course, by the time you locate that "weathered antique fern pot" or the "German waxed paper" or the "vintage ribbon and tin quiche pans", you're about a million bucks in, anyway, before you even get to the lush millionaire surroundings in which each project photo shoot is set. Why do I torture myself? Because, one, I am sick to death of winter and being inside and I'm getting in that Spring mood to clean something, paint something, make something, or grow something, and, two, I'm looking for ideas to decorate the yard a little for the approaching day of nuptials with the partner. I picked up one of the many Martha Stewart rags and exclaimed "I could do that!" a couple of times, and so I actually laid out money so that I could continue to torture myself with her perfection in the comfort of my own living room. So far I have purchased some clay pots and some agricultural lime, and with patience I will be able to turn them from brand new looking to aged perfection in an afternoon. I'm just sure of it. They will go perfectly with the collection of hens-and-chicks I will plant in metal electrical supply parts, creatively juxtaposing nature and man-made forms. People will be amazed to see white wine chilling, artfully, in aluminum flower boxes, and the chocolate cake I have whipped out with mine and my beloved's initials gracefully stenciled in cocoa powder. This wedding will look like a magazine picture. (Or not, depending on whether I win the lottery between now and then.)
She is one crafty wench. When I look at her endlessly fabulous ideas in magazines, I alternate between "I could do that" and "She has staff, for chrissakes". No mortal human, even one such as myself who feigns towards artsy-craftsiness, could keep up with her enthusiasm for making everything she touches look like a million bucks. Of course, by the time you locate that "weathered antique fern pot" or the "German waxed paper" or the "vintage ribbon and tin quiche pans", you're about a million bucks in, anyway, before you even get to the lush millionaire surroundings in which each project photo shoot is set. Why do I torture myself? Because, one, I am sick to death of winter and being inside and I'm getting in that Spring mood to clean something, paint something, make something, or grow something, and, two, I'm looking for ideas to decorate the yard a little for the approaching day of nuptials with the partner. I picked up one of the many Martha Stewart rags and exclaimed "I could do that!" a couple of times, and so I actually laid out money so that I could continue to torture myself with her perfection in the comfort of my own living room. So far I have purchased some clay pots and some agricultural lime, and with patience I will be able to turn them from brand new looking to aged perfection in an afternoon. I'm just sure of it. They will go perfectly with the collection of hens-and-chicks I will plant in metal electrical supply parts, creatively juxtaposing nature and man-made forms. People will be amazed to see white wine chilling, artfully, in aluminum flower boxes, and the chocolate cake I have whipped out with mine and my beloved's initials gracefully stenciled in cocoa powder. This wedding will look like a magazine picture. (Or not, depending on whether I win the lottery between now and then.)
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-Bob