Crafty

I am not crafty. 


I cook. I bake. I can sort of wrap presents. I can think of art projects for kids. I can doodle. I make nice-looking lists. I write letters.


I do not coordinate rooms of my house. I do not tie bows. I do not make jewelry. I do not sew or scrapbook or sculpt or turn old shoes into centerpieces. 


I would love to do these things. I cut out ideas in magazines, usually the most-simple ideas like just putting green glass bottles together or doing a kitchen with shades of blue, but I do not execute these ideas. 


I desperately want for my house to be coordinated. I want my random items on a shelf to look smartly put together. I want our bedding to work with the other stuff we have. I want to put new knobs on something. I want to get rid of stuff and make my heaps look like clever clutter. I want to put up some art (seriously, what is my problem?). And I will do some of these things. I will! 


My mom gives me magazines, which I love paging through before bed. I keep looking for ideas. And I plan to join the yuppy-crafty-land of Pinterest during my upcoming two-week break, but I do not have high hopes for my crafy ways developing. I will try to find ideas and make those ideas become something nice. But I will not expect magic from my uncrafty mind, just something nicer.