Friday, September 18, 2009

Crafty Like A Fox

Given I don't own any flouncy shirts, and we're almost out of rum, what better way to celebrate Talk Like A Pirate Day than with a trip to Spotlight, I thought.  This is no small excursion - it involves driving interstate (yes, yes, only to Queanbeyan, but I want to impress my Adelaide readers), finding a parking space in a small carpark that is shared with Supercheap Auto (second only to Bunnings for attracting blokes on a sunny weekend), and then waiting for twenty minutes in a queue of talkative older ladies who are buying fat quarters* and 10cm of this polarfleece and 50cm of that twill, and 4m of each of these poplins.......

Anyhow, before I got to the queue I found myself in the scrapbooking aisle.  I know I have been a little disparaging of scrapbooking at times, but I'm big enough to admit that they have some quite practical little tools, and I needed something to cut circles more neatly than I can do, and with less cussing.  As the Fella was not with me, I was enjoying touching all the tools and pressing buttons without being asked why I needed to touch everything, and also could we go home, surely we've been here for four hours, and where are the crochet hooks I'd rather dig my eyes out than look at any more Martha Stewart crap?

As I was poking things, a lost-looking woman with an armful of fat quarters approached me and said, "Hello, you look crafty."  I narrowed my eyes and engaged my wary face.  Did she mean I looked like someone who could make a wonderful planter using only a glove with the fingers cut off, two egg-cartons and some PVA?  Or did she mean I looked as though I might take her wallet if she dropped her guard?  In fairness, both are reasonable assessments of me, but I would never choose to do the former.  "I'm looking for ribbons," she continued.

"Arrrgh, there are ribbons, to be sure," I replied, in a confused blending of Talk Like A Pirate Day and Talk Like A Leprechaun Day.** "Ribbons aplenty, over yonder."

Actually, I didn't say all that, but I wish I had.  I just directed her to the ribbons.

And I found my circle-cutter, and my Big Interstate Adventure ended happily.

*for you non-crafting types, a fat quarter is like a regular quarter. But fat.
**which doesn't exist, but should.


  1. a confused blending of Talk Like A Pirate Day and Talk Like A Leprechaun Day.

    Heh, I just had a mental image of my Irish boss talking like a pirate. Happens a lot around here.

  2. livebird, you're the second person to ask me that. I cut circles for all sorts of purposes: ranging from making my own budget coasters from newspaper to making crafty little decals to cover wine stains on walls. This week, circles are required for joolry-making purposes.

    On my own I can only manage things shaped vaguely like a gibbous moon with splintery edges, so I've sought help from the world of scrapbooking. I feel dirty, but at least I owned up to it.


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