i love my mil

Yes, I love my mother-in-law.  She is the neatest, coolest lady ever.  She runs a day care center and has a room full of art supplies.  She loves pulling out all her supplies and letting me play and doesn't care if I use things up or screw things up.  She cares a lot, about everyone.  And makes them feel as good as I feel whenever I'm around her.

Several weekends ago, she put together this crafts event as part of a week-long bicentential celebration of the little town my husband grew up in.  She put together several craft areas for kids and adults to wander around and try out fabric-based crafts.

Stop #1:  Flower Pressing
My husband and I ended up being in charge of this one for awhile.  Wow, some kids look so normal but are crazy when they have a mallet in their hands.  Limits may need to be set.  Like, don't hit yourself in the forehead with a mallet.



Take flowers, grasses and leaves from the garden.  Lay them onto a piece of muslin.  Cover with wax paper.  Beat it with a mallet.  Mount on colorful paper.  Enjoy your artwork.  

Stop #2:  Yarn Crafting
Ladies were set up at each table with mounds of yarn to teach crochet, knitting and weaving.  I kept walking around, touching piles of yarn.  Somehow I ended up teaching five lovely eight year olds how to weave on a wooden loom.  We did it by hand, but my husband created a tool to do his weaving (of course). 

The loom you can make at home with a piece of sturdy cardboard.  Cut notches at each end.  Pick a thin yarn, tape one end on the back, and then loop the yarn up, over and down (not around the back).  At the end, cut it and tape it down on the back.  Pick another yarn (the girls loved anything fuzzy, and it felt good to do).  Cut off a length, not too long.  Weave it through.  If you're working with littles, picking up the yarn whenever the yarn goes under was really helpful.  If you need to know how to finish, don't ask me.  I yelled for my mil and she finished everyone's weaving. 

Step Three:  Alpacas!
While we were working the tables, I didn't get to try spinning the alpaca wool!  Still darn cute though.  The little girl next to me called this one Whitey.  The other one was Blacky.  And if there was a gray one, he'd be called Oldey because old people have gray hair.