Last time I crafted anything was a papier-mâché Christmas tree decoration of… another Christmas tree. It was 1987, and my mum still has the decoration now. This is more a testament to her refusal to throw anything way than to my ability to make the good make.
A non-exhaustive list of the things I refuse to get involved with includes: home-made candles in tea cups, home-made jewellery, home-made, hand-printed Christmas cards, and flower pressing.
Home-made is good, craft is good. On the other hand, consuming too much, buying too much, wanting everything to be shiny, new and factory made, are all bad. Which means I’m a bad person, right?
The thing is, I don’t get any pleasure, or sense of achievement out of making things myself. I don’t enjoy scrubbing glitter out of surfaces, my hands sticky with kid’s safety glue.
Am I merely a pragmatic grown up in her thirties who doesn’t want to find dried flowers in her airing cupboard? Or am I a woman without soul?