I know you can but why can't I?

After years of partially completed scrapbooks, ridiculous looking centerpieces and millions of dollars spent on nick-knacks and miles of ribbon that will never become frames or barrettes or tablecloths or whatever the heck was in that month's magazine, I give up.  It's time to admit to myself that I am the anti-Martha Stewart.  No matter how hard I try and all the time I spend reading and going over every little detail in the hopes to create this year's Easter basket masterpiece, it's safe to say that it ain't gonna happen.  Nope, it's not. 

It must have been the huge box of unused scrapbook ditties and swatches of mismatch fabric I unearthed in the back of my daughter's closet, along with the old stacks of Martha Stewart Living that has forced me to finally admit that I am just not crafty.  Uncrafty Sally.  Yep, that's my name.  Life can be so unfair sometimes, and you want to know the worst of it?  I was totally content making ordinary birthday cakes and purchasing Christmas ornaments until that dream killer Martha came along.  Oh Yes!  A simple chocolate cake with 16 candles and those edible Spiderman thingys will just not do.  Only good Mommies will make a 3 foot tall 3D talking Spiderman cake that will swing itself outside and onto the picnic table from the kitchen.  Only terrible blah people would hang store bought chintzy ornaments on their Christmas trees while the rest of the "Marthies"  hand roll and bake their 8 point intricate snowflake ornaments, finishing them off with crushed sea glass that you should've been collecting this entire year.  Who needs the stress?  I do.

Deep down in my simple cake soul, I want to be a Marthie.   I live on the beach.  I collect shells regularly and I have possessed a glue gun at some time point in my life, so you'd think that with all of my extra time (ha) I should be able to assemble a lovely shell wreath for the next door neighbor with little or no effort.  You would think.  Gathering all of the ingredients is not the problem, it is the execution that I have trouble with.  What "should" take a hour of your time is still sitting on my dinning room table months later along with the June 2002 partially monogrammed with cut potatos, tablecloth that was supposed to be someone's wedding present.  I can only hope that their marriage has lasted longer than my willingness to complete their gift.  To be honest it was hideous and quite possibly saved our friendship since the 'D' looked like a 'P' which was the last name initial of an ex-someone.  Who wants to explain that?  Check please!

I should start my own revolution where un-craftyness is celebrated and a lopsided, barely cooked strawberry surprise is the go-to desert of the month.  Having a dinner party with the chipped plates you've had since college and using the soup spoon from your daughter's play kitchen to serve your bag of salad, would bring cheers from your friends and make your dinner table the place to be!  Chicken nuggets and all.