Okay, as I sit here diligently working, I've turned the TV on to catch part of Martha Stewart's show. Now, I have great admiration and respect for Martha. Talk about someone who has taken what they love and what they are good at and built an empire from it. Wow, she is the poster child for success there. She's extremely talented at many different things, possibly the universe's greatest self-marketer, and a huge flirt. She took herself from New England wedding caterer to virtual world domination.
However, five minutes into the show, I already feel like a hopeless slacker. Martha is cutting napkins into adorable heart-snowflake shapes. Why? I'm not exactly sure, because I have the sound turned down. I'm waiting for the second segment where she builds a waterproof ark out of leftover vintage milinery fruit. No, she's making homemade ramen. Seriously. I can't make this stuff up. Bless her heart. She probably has some Amish noodle making tool that she picked up at a tag sale on Cape Cod or something.
So I wandered over to her website, to see what she's doing there. Her organizing tip of the day is to use your leftover scraps for something brand new. I can certainly get behind that idea. I do it all the time when I'm making jewelry. Here is the photo of Martha's version.
Ummm, it could just be me, but my leftover scraps would not make a bed and breakfast oasis like this. I am such an under-achiever. Why, oh why, do I not have perfect leftover scraps of vintage wallpaper? Why am I not creating handmade party favors from tissue? Why have I not organized my recipe cards alphabetically in plastic protector sheets in labelled binders? Oh, wait, because I don't cook. That takes care of that one.
Several years ago, in her Christmas issue, she had an article about crocheting those lovely little snowflake ornaments out of thread. My mom crochets, so I took the magazine to her house and said, "We're going to make snowflakes!" So excited. According to the magazine, it's a craft simple enough for a school child. So, we both sat there, crocheting. My mom held hers out, and she had made this sweet little flake, perfectly formed. I held mine out and it looked like a small ball of snot. I was pulling my thread too tight. Okay, let's try again. I unravelled, Mom started a new one, and we crocheted. Mom held hers out. Delightfully whimsical flake of snow. Mine? Nasty little ball of snot. It went that way for a couple of hours until I finally admitted defeat. I kept one of my snot balls, and I put it on the Christmas tree each year. Poor phlegmy little thing.
Martha, I do love and respect you, but sometimes you make me feel like such an under-achiever. . . I need to take a break now and reconsider all of the choices that I have made in my life. Or I might make a tissue paper orchid. Oh, wait, now she's doing pet yoga. I'm going to go wake up Franklin. . .