I am not a crafter. Crafting is a genetic thing, either you have the gene or you don't. I have contacted the Genome people about this matter, but they have yet to answer. They are probably busy crafting -- making models of DNA strands with toothpicks and Styrofoam balls.
Even though I am not a crafter, when I watch those who are, I sometimes delude myself into thinking that I, too, can do dramatic things with plastic pomegranates, silk greenery and artificial woodland creatures.
It's the same sort of delusion I have when I watch the instructor on the 10-Minute Pilates tape. I begin thinking that I, too, am tall, flexible, willowy and can lie on my back and command my legs to lift completely over my head in one fluid motion. (Move legs! Move! Why aren't you moving?)
It's not that I haven't tried crafting. I have a long history of failure.
Gift Bag Made From a Sheet of Newspaper: I followed the instructions but it looked more like an '80s fanny pack than a gift bag.
Counted Cross-Stitch: This project lasted for two stitches.
Cornhusk Doll: Found out I preferred my cornhusks in tamales.
The last craft I attempted involved a pumpkin, glue and gold glitter.
Note that the skill set required for this craft involved nothing more than coating a sizable object and then rolling the coated sizable object in small sparkly particles.
I was pleased with myself. It was pretty, festive, dazzling even.
I took it to a family get together. My brother examined the creation and asked whatever possessed me to do such a thing to a pumpkin. He then began to laugh. He laughed so hard he began snorting and nearly lost control.
The last thing a reluctant crafter needs is to be taunted.
I have been on a hiatus from crafts until I recently was invited to a stamping party. The clever, hand-made invitations said there would be light snacks. If I couldn't craft, I could always snack.
The projects were adorable, a paper pumpkin, an owl bookmark and a broom made of candy corn, fringed paper and tags with seasonal messages.
The paper pumpkin went better than expected. My candy corn broom wasn't exactly like the demo, but in the "somewhat similar" category.
The owl craft was daunting. They had small jiggling eyes on small circles of paper and wore snappy little plaid vests. The best I could hope for would be a cross-eyed owl with uneven shoulders wearing a halter top.
A crafter repeatedly asked if I wouldn't like to make the owl. I said no three times and then offered to teach her how to lift her legs over her head. It was the last I saw of her.
I did learn this much: If you take a doughnut hole, frost the top third and roll it in chopped nuts, it looks like an acorn. If it doesn't look like an acorn, you just eat it and nobody is the wiser.