Passing On Dreams. Or At Least the Stuff With Which Dreams Are Made. You Know, Like Glitter.

Once upon a time, in a mystical land far far away high school I fancied myself a bit of an artist. I even went off to college with the intention of pursuing my creative tendencies. Somehow I was derailed and ended up a trial lawyer. Still not sure how that happened.

In any event, I've held on to every bit of crafty-type nonsense that's come into my life over the past umpteen years with the intention of one day making good use of them, and possibly even eventually becoming that artist I once thought I was. I've always managed to maintain at least a wee bit of creativity in my life by way of crochet, but have never found time for the oodles of paint, glitter, ribbon, paper, markers, pencils and what-not that I have filling an entire closet (and part of the garage).

Then last week it dawned on me. Maybe the kids would like some of this stuff?

And guess what?

They do.