I can now write formal papers and spew back memorized facts. But ask me to draw a picture, and I would stare at you, eyes blank, perhaps a bit of drool coming down my chin...
I remember as a child, doing crafts on the living room floor. There was the weird wax paper we colored and then shrunk in the oven to form necklaces, the animal keychains we formed out of brightly colored beads and string, the holiday ornaments and cards fashioned from scraps lying about (including old dry macaroni). When did I loose this?
I come from a long line of crochet-ers, so I decided to give it a go. Teaching myself from a book, my first project was a red tea towel with a white boarder. It went well.
Don't you think?
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