I am about to enter the void. I am about to buy a hot glue gun and do some serious shopping at A.C. Moore.
I may have to go incognito, because everyone in there knows about hot glue guns and 32 gauge floral wire and what the heck a pony bead is, and they may possibly ridicule my ignorance. I will maybe go, check it all out, and then go back later as if I knew what I was doing all along.
I am doing all this because I love my daughter and I want her to have a ridiculously cute fairy party. And because it looks like fun. And because when I was 12 I subscribed to Crafts magazine and made everything but the punched tin lantern which my mother deemed too dangerous. I remember making a very convincing hamster from fake fur, felt and googley eyes.
And when I was in high school I had a cottage industry making miniature felt teddy bears. I charged $2/ bear. Each one took me a few hours to make. I was not a good business person, but really, they weren't worth more than two dollars.
I miss this crafty nonsense. Admittedly, whenever I visit that DIY page I get intimidated and think, why would I even take the time to read the directions? I am not what one would call "handy". Or patient.
And yet, I can't stand spending money on stupid garbage to put in goodie bags when I can make some perfectly adorable flower petal wands. And some rosebud halos. Honestly, I kind of can't wait.
Meanwhile, Studley is getting hosed this year. I haven't figured out what to do for his party and I suspect he's getting a glorified playgroup in the front yard. It all depends on how much we've finished on our home improvement list because really, isn't that what entertaining is all about? I may have to plan another bender so we have another deadline by which to accomplish things.
FOR INSTANCE, Chris thinks he can build the first half of a two-part patio by Fairy Blast Off. Anyone out there in the betting mood?
Yes, we decided what to do in the absence of the patio that I started this blog with! Already! We've also decided what we want to do with our driveway, where the chickens will spend the winter, and which trees have to come down before they smash the house. After all, if trees smash the house then who really cares what kind of patio we put in?
So Chris will be out there with his power tools and Black & Decker remote control measuring tape and I will be inside, surrounded by disembodied silk flower blossoms, wielding a hot glue gun. We are The American Dream.