Disney In My DNA

Those of you who have been following along with my story know my obsession with Disney. There is a long family mythology that links me with Tinker Bell on many levels. I grew up three miles from Disneyland, watching the fireworks from my backyard in the summer. When Max and I decided to move out of California post-retirement, living within easy traveling distance to a Disney park was high on my list of priorities. I have a wardrobe that is the envy of four-year-old girls everywhere.

I may have hit a new high. Or a new low, depending on how you look at things.

This month, my chapter is hosting the general meeting of my church’s ECW (Episcopal Church Women) organization. The general ECW is made up of four small discussion groups or “chapters.” The whole general membership meets monthly, and each chapter also meets separately each month. The chapters take turns providing food and decorations for the larger general meetings. My chapter is handling the February festivities.

We met on Monday to decorate the parish hall in our be-blossomed Valentine’s Day theme. Now, there was a time when decorating meant laying out pink or red paper placemats and scattering a few cut out hearts on the tables. Those days are gone. Somewhere along the line, somebody upped the game. It was not me who upped it. It is fun to have everyone contributing creative ideas and working together to implement them, as long as it doesn’t become a competition and feelings don’t get hurt. Monday was actually great. Everyone seemed to be having fun decorating. We have several crafty women in our group and there were a lot of random fru-fruy supplies to play with in creating centerpieces and such. One of our talented artistic ladies designed some lovely heart shaped artificial flower topiaries for the tables. We found we needed one more. Somehow, the least artistic person in the room (me) got the job of crafting the final topiary.

I have been trying to embrace trying things outside my comfort zone, so I decided to play along. How badly could it possibly go? Attacking a Styrofoam heart with a glue gun and a truckload of fake flowers didn’t seem too hard. Even if it did go badly, what’s the real harm? After all, it is not like the fate of the nation was at stake.

Things started off reasonably well. I felt encouraged as I gunned glued blooms in place. However, as things progressed, I realized that a truckload of flowers was not going to be quite sufficient to completely cover the blasted heart. I started gluing anything sparkly to the Styrofoam to cover white spots. My topiary began to look like a Brownie troop project. Also, the glue gun started to get a bit awkward and tetchy. Manipulating the hot dripping glue was more difficult when trying to attach the glittery ribbon and hearts that when just reinforcing the fake flowers I punched into the Styrofoam. I ended up burning my fingers repeatedly, all the time struggling not to utter an expletive that would not have been appropriate for a church gathering.

I did not realize that I had actually blistered my skin until after I had peeled all the excess dried glue off my hands. Then, I saw it. I had branded myself with a perfect little hidden Mickey on the pad of my finger. I may or may not bleed pixie dust, but I certainly burn Disney.

What we do for love….

What is the silliest craft-related story? Please share your perspective by leaving a comment. In the alternative, you can email me to terriretirement@gmail.com.

Have a hearty day!

Terri/Dorry 😊