A Strange Sense of Hopelessness

That would sum up in five words how I feel today.

Because of my parent's doctors appointments? No.

All of September, October and November I am incredibly excited about Christmas.

Mainly, the making of Christmas presents.

Today it occurred to me that it is a purely selfish endeavor on my part.

Nobody wants them.

I spend hours and hours gleaning books and magazines for ideas. Then, I add my own twist to it.
I really get into this.

My own art room, horrifically junky, beckons me to come and make stuff.

And, I heed the call.

But somehow I've missed the mark.

I've nothing for THGGM. NOTHING.

Last year, Daughter, although she was busy 'being great with child' took me shopping. I found what I thought were suitable gifts for THGGM.

Presently, all of those gifts reside in Youngest Son's room.

Any ideas or hints he has dropped I've passed on to the offspring.

We've nothing in common in the gift-receiving department.

He is picky and fussy and knows exactly what he wants.

It would seem he was born into the lap of luxury, which was hardly the case.

Daughter is another hard one to buy for. She was born this way.

Hers was the name I drew for our St. Nicholas party.

She asked her father if I had made her something so, if I had, she could practice not crying with disappointment.

Bless her heart, Daughter-in-law mentioned that she loves my cards.

But, this strange sense of hopelessness is not a new feeling. No. It is not.

My mom used to have two friends who she got together with each week. They rotated houses.

This meant that once every three weeks my mom was hostess.

To occupy me, she would give me white paper napkins to color. My favorites were the ones with the embossed flowers.

I would color my little heart out, creating masterpieces of flower designs.

She never used them.

She said they were 'too special to use'.

I happen to know that she threw them away.

I happen to know that that is precisely what happens with almost everything I make.

Hence, the strange sense of hopelessness.


(I need a cookie.)


Might it be time for me to close up shop?

I'm thinking it might be.


(Seriously. I NEED a cookie!)


Of course, not wanting what I make is not a character flaw in the people I love.

The hopelessness comes in when I think how I'm the one who isn't 'getting it'.

When nobody wants what you have to offer, it's clearly time to move in another direction.

Or, at the very least, to find a new audience.