From time to time I’ll see something online or in a magazine that looks like a good craft project or a tasty meal. I gather up the ingredients, print out the instructions, and get to work.
A niece posted a picture of a lovely wreath on her Facebook page last year. It was a fall wreath made with burlap ribbon and with fall flowers affixed to it. I watched the online video and it looked oh-so-easy. I decided it would make a fun craft project for the residents in the assisted living facility where I work. I bought wires to bend into circles, yards and yards of burlap ribbon, and an assortment of colorful leaves, flowers, and berries. Once I arrived at work and distributed the materials to my residents I attempted to demonstrate this supposedly easy-peasy wreath-making procedure and they attempted to follow along. All I can say is that though working on the project provided a lot of laughs, it did not produce a wreath that any sane person would care to hang on their door, and I threw the supplies away.
While following Rachael Ray’s recipe for cherry chicken, I had a bit more luck. Even though the process ran smoothly, and I anticipated wowing my dinner guests with a new and different take on chicken, at the last minute I grabbed the red pepper flakes to sprinkle on the few dashes called for in the recipe. But I opened the wrong side of the jar, so instead of a dash of red pepper flakes, I had about half a jar. Need I say that no amount of scraping could eliminate the fiery substance? Fortunately, I had made a few other entrees, so our dinner wasn’t a complete disaster.
I college I took up knitting and crocheting as a way to relax. I still don’t quite understand where I went wrong, but the scarf I so painstakingly knit somehow turned into a blanket, and the hat I crocheted could have covered a beach ball.
So it was with some surprise that I realized the chocolate-covered Oreo cookies I made to bring to Thanksgiving dinner didn’t turn out so bad! Well, OK, they didn’t exactly look like the picture I saw on Pinterest, but at least it was obvious that they were little smiley faces. Even though some of the faces resembled the old, squished Mr. Bill from the early days of Saturday Night Live, at least they tasted good!
And so it is with my writing. I may have a vision of what I want a story to say but I can never seem to get the words to come out exactly the way I imagine them. At least they seem to come out a little closer to my warped smiley-faces than to my cherry chicken or disastrous crafts.
I’m grateful for that!