Before the proper middle-aged, mid-life crisis of sports cars and menopause comes the less well-documented early-to-mid-life drama that occurs when you hit 30. It affects everyone differently, but in my case it appears that I am careering into my fourth decade with a desperate need to somehow mark my time on this planet by Making Stuff Out of Things. Sewing, cooking, crocheting - if it sits still I will craft it.
I try to justify this as some kind of natural nesting instinct, or an environmentally-and-economically-conscious way of preserving resources and making something from nothing in the way of my foremothers. But if I'm honest, that's not it. What has actually made me pick up my crochet needles and pinking shears for the first time since school is much more akin to a small child proudly handing over a picture of a tiger (or is it an orange? Or is it mummy?), to be stuck on the fridge.
I'm not etsy-ing or folksy-ing or ebay-ing - I'm not even very good at any of it. I'm just furiously creating stuff to be stuck on the Fridge of Approval. Next to the 'Welcome to Vegas' magnet and the remnants of rude fridge poetry.
This blog is just an extension of the fridge, really. Feel free to smile, nod, and pretend that you know what it is I have drawn in the yellow crayon. Next to the tiger.
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