about writing and life and God

Paper crafts

on February 1, 2013

I tried to write a post about twiting but it got eaten by the WordPress Monster. I think it might have thought I was talking about tweeting – something I haven’t really got the hang of yet.

Twiting I can do, and have been doing contentedly for the past hour or so. The word comes from my childhood. Not sure if it’s Gaelic or Norse-based – the two main sources of non-standard-English words where I come from.

My mother used it in an uncomplimentary way. Looking back, I can’t blame her. I know I made a mess. Today, being all grown-up, it’s up to me to clear up the mess. So I have. But it’s ok. It’s worth it..

Twiting is cutting paper with scissors. As a child, I used to make dress-up dolls from big glossy mail-order catalogues that arrived each season. I was allowed the old one and soon covered my bedspread and my bedroom floor with a deep litter of glossy paper confetti, all to produce a few cut-out ladies from the corsetry department, well-armoured in that strange pink colour or purest white. Then a wardrobe of coats and dresses was produced for them to wear, each with tabs at shoulder and waist that folded over to keep them in place.

Since the poses of the models were never identical, the result could be a little strange to say the least.

And as I dressed them, I made up stories…. oblivious of the mess, or the time, till mother appeared to announce supper time and get sidetracked by the mess!

This afternoon, I’ve been ransacking magazines for pictures of food to make a collage cover for a box of recipes – or rather a box which I hope will fill up with recipes requested from the cooks in our church. I thought a bright collage would be more attractive and maybe elicit a better response. The plan is to produce a booklet of the tried and tested favourites for those days when there’s no money, no time, no energy and still a family to feed. The stand-bys. It’s a gift for our young Mums group.

There’s something very soothing about paging through a pile of magazines, selecting pictures and then slowly, carefully cutting round outlines. I know I’m going to enjoy the messy gluing-them-down stage too.

And I do wonder, not for the first time, is childhood wasted on children? How many more “childish” activities can I rescue and reinstate?


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