The Year of Domesticity

I have never claimed to be Martha Stewart, nor would any one ever classify me as "crafty". Every now and again I get a bug - one that would make me look like June Cleaver (minus the apron and hairdo).

The husband always says I am crafty, but I'm not. Not in the traditional sense of the word. I don't go to craft shows looking for ideas. I don't have wooden signs hung around my home adorned with kitschy sayings. My home is actually pretty bare except for the few art works hanging on the walls.

The "crafts" I do enjoy are few and far between and pretty random. I do enjoy sewing, although I would never offer to teach anything other than how my machine works and how to sew a line. I have made a few articles of clothing, a few bags and some curtains, but I would never call myself a pro. I have attempted knitting, not much success and every now and again I will crochet, but it's usually the same, basic stitch that turns into a scarf (or if I am feeling especially crafty, a baby blanket). I have many long pieces of crocheting that have yet to turn into anything. And on occasion I have been known to paint the odd flower pot.

My latest attempt I am holding out hope for success. Mainly because I don't think I can screw it up. Although maybe I should wait until I am finished, because with me, I could probably find a way to screw it up.

I made bread once. Well, rolls actually. It doesn't really matter though because they were inedible and found their way into the trash pretty quickly. I think they may have been harder than hockey pucks. Maybe even harder than the hardest material known to man. I haven't made a second attempt...until today. I got a bread machine this Christmas. It seems pretty simple. I can't mess up too badly when all I have to do is throw in the materials, plug it in and press the buttons, right??? I guess we will see, but I won't drop dead if it comes out like a brick or in crumbs.

Stay tuned.