I Don't

Once upon a time and what seems like long, long ago, I glommed onto every new craft project like it was a lifeboat, always have.  When I was a kid, my mother taught me how to crochet.  She didn't knit, so I taught myself and ended up making sox for boyfriends and those dice that hung from the rear view mirror in the 50-60s.  Knitting was a good skill to have later in life when I took up spinning wool and had a lot of yarn.  Spinning led to a loom, but that didn't get much use...too much math.  It's been years since I've picked up one of the hooks or every sized needle known to man.

I went though the polymer clay phase, making ornaments and jewelry.  Now I don't.

When I had milkers, I made goat-milk soap...lovely, creamy bars.  I still have all of the equipment.  Haven't used it in years.

I have the screen for making paper from scraps and even dryer lint.  I even think I know where it is...or not.

Beading.  OMG the beading.  Jewelry, ornaments, purses.  Not too long ago I gave Deb all of the pounds of supplies I'd garnered so the passion can continue.  (She's her mother's daughter.)

My mother-in-law introduced me to the Donna Dewberry technique of painting and I was off and running.  I painted walls, fence posts, cards, gates, the well house, you name it.  Steve used to tell Bessie Anne to keep moving or she'd end up like a walking flower garden.  I'm pretty sure all my paints are dried up by now.

I don't know when I lost the inspiration.  I only know it's gone.  I used to do all these things and more.  Now I don't.

Stay safe.  Be well.