Bejeweled, Beglamoured, Beglued
14 September 2010
Get ready for it. Today, when the Prince Consort gets home from work, he’s not going to look at the kitchen counter, sigh, and ask, “What did you break today?” Nope. Today the assembly line of breakables that threw themselves off tables, shelves, and counters as I innocently walked by has been replaced. Not that Gorilla glue is not raring to go on the kitchen counter, because my new best friend among my household tools is always up and ready, but today the kitchen counter is crowded with: drum roll please.
Arts and Crafts!!
Yes! I got an inspiration. The Prince Consort and I started doing Arts and Crafts a few Christmases back when we wanted to make personalized presents for little money. ( A scheme that backfired when it came time to mail them. Do you have any idea how heavy glass dishes are? Think elephant who’s just drunk a lake heavy.) We hit on painting glass dishes with Christmas patterns.
While I think we did a pretty good job, I begged my parents not to ‘save’ the dishes, but to go ahead and use them, break them, let them slip ‘accidentally’ … because as we mailed them, (see above about $$$ and ### ) I realized I had made a tactical error. One day in the hopefully distant future, my sister and I will divide up my parents’ things. And my sister is waaaay too smart not to put the homemade glass dishes on my side of the equation. Frankly, I’d rather have the Imari.
We decorated glass dishes for our daughter at the same time. She still has hers too. I don’t think she intends to will them to me. And she’s not afraid of me, so it’s not the ‘get that butt-ugly whatever out when Mom comes to visit’ thing. I think it’s more likely she’s saving them up to torture her own progeny. We are an ingenious clan when it comes to torture.
At any rate. This Time, I have a GREAT idea. Better than the cow the PC and I glued together from terra cotta pots and then hand painted. (I’m waiting for grand children so I can ‘gift’ that.) Bejeweled headstones!! Yep. I was in a Halloween store last week and there they were. Big gaudy jewels stuck on styrofoam ‘headstones’.
I have plastic headstones (which is good after the great melting styrofoam tree disaster a couple of Christmases ago). And Better, I have big gaudy jewels. I just have to pry them off my tennis visor. The beglamoured visor was another of my ingenious plans to torture someone. Back when I played league doubles, poorly, I made for my partner and I, matching ‘bejeweled’ visors with which to stun and blind our opponents. Unfortunately their sunglasses were sufficient to the purpose. No one even blinked.
So, and I love the irony of this, a new Life for the jewels.
Kath
