Scrapping Scrapbooking

By Lynn Rebuck       

I am, to put it kindly, crafting-impaired.

It’s not that I haven’t tried. I have often attempted a new craft, only to discover that I am not well-suited for it.

For instance, I tried Scherenschnitte, the intricate German art of paper-cutting. It didn’t take long for me to figure out that I am just not cut out for it. 

I bought the special scissors, learned the quick cutting strokes, and cut my heart out (well, I almost did, when one day I quickly tucked my scissors in my bra and forgot about them). In fact, I became a little compulsive about my new hobby.

I was creating doily-like decorations out of every piece of paper I could get my hands on, including my daughter’s permission slip for a class trip, our tax return, and the children’s birth certificates.

I became so obsessed that it started to show around the house. I was cutting corners on housework so that I had more time to cut corners. I was like Edward Scissorhands on a caffeine rush. I was just a hop, snip, and a jump from a rubber stamp room.

I tried tole painting a few years ago, but there was a misunderstanding on my part. I thought it was “toll” painting. The turnpike workers didn’t seem to appreciate the detail and shadowing of my artwork on their booths. I still have the first EZ Pass that I painted.

Next I tried scrapbooking. When I went out to my car on a break during my first scrapbooking class, I discovered I had received a parking ticket. I brought it back in and affixed it to a page in my album. It was a special memento moment.

Soon I was scrapbooking every scrap of paper, including grocery receipts, medical prescriptions, and the tag off our Thanksgiving turkey. 

Instead of investing in costly embellishments to adorn the pages, I started removing buttons from my husband’s clothing. When he went to put on a favorite shirt and found three buttons missing, I blamed it on an overly aggressive washing machine. 

In my frenzy to finish scrapbooking some pages, I snatched zipper pulls from the kid’s jackets, slipped the rabies tag from the dog’s collar, and ripped the numbers off the front of our house.

A number of years ago, when women’s ministry leaders in the church I was attending passed around a list of craft activities to determine interest for upcoming workshops, I realized how much I disliked crafting. I felt inept when I compared myself to clearly gifted artists. 

As I sat surrounded by my myriad unfinished projects from workshops past (I was being stared at accusingly by a one-eyed soft-sculpture angel who was still awaiting a corneal transplant), I was struck with inspiration.

I wasn’t interested in any of the class offerings, and in my frustration I came up with a “list” of my own, a humorous parody of their proposed classes. I shared it with the leaders, and they loved it. They laughed.

Then it dawned on me: God gave me a different creative talent, one that didn’t require that I scramble to craft stores for supplies.

These days, the closest I get to crafting is when I cut and paste in my word processor. 

Lynn Rebuck is an award-winning humor columnist, speaker, and comedian who once decorated her husband’s golf bag with sequins. Read more of her humor at www.LaughtertheCheapestMedicine.com © 2009 Lynn Rebuck