Pikes Peak Parent

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Glue Guns Ablazin'

Halloween is in the air. It's not just the cooler temperatures, the fall colors and the opening of that huge, obnoxious, temporary Halloween store. The haints and spirits of the underworld are among us. I know this because I have fallen victim to demonic possession.

No, don't call Fathers Karras and Merrin just yet. They're not the appropriate point men to battle the ghoul that's after my soul. This is a case for Daniel Faneuil and the U.S. Justice Department, because I have been possessed by Martha Stewart.

For the first time in my life, I am enthusiastically decorating for a conventional holiday. This is not something I do. I am not girly. I am not craftsy. I am not even vaguely artistically inclined. I'd get along much better with one of Martha's felonious former cellmates than the domestic diva herself. To date, the closest I've come to home-made, original decor was an ill-planned attempt to turn a West Texas tumbleweed into a tinsel-bedecked marker of a high Christian holiday. It didn't work.

But I spent all of Saturday devising and creating fall froofiness for our front porch. I started with a pumpkin carving kit and stencil. I ended up with a good enough version of a Halloween cat face that Riley pointed at it and exclaimed "OW! OW! OW!" (That's how she says "meow.")

Martha must've been poking my voodoo doll, because I found myself consulting her Web site. It actually inspired me to decorate a second and even third pumpkin.

Then I went to the aforementioned huge, obnoxious, temporary Halloween store, followed by not one but TWO crafts stores and a stop by the grocery store to pick up pumpkin no. 3. In the height of my shopping insanity, I even decided I'd make a wreath. For real. So I am now a first-time (glue) gun owner. I'll be looking for my NRA membership card in this week's mail.

I came home and applied a bone-shaped cookie cutter to my second pumpkin in honor of Bailey the border collie puppy. It is her first Halloween, after all. After poking out chunks of pumpkin to create a whimsical pup-o-lantern, I installed a light that flashes different colors.

Then I attacked my third pumpkin. I first saw this idea in this month's issue of "Parents," so Martha can't claim full credit for this one. But she was on the Today show recently showing Matt Lauer how to bling up a pumpkin. So I brushed on glue and two different colors of glitter for a disco squash.

Then I hit the wreath. After reading the instructions several times, I figured out how to plug in my glue gun. My trigger finger starts itching just thinking about it. I placed all of my autumnal wreath paraphernalia in my grapevine frame, then I broke out the heavy artillery.

I'd never used a glue gun before. I used to tease my sister-in-law about her glue gun marksmanship. She actually kept one in her college dorm room just in case a decorating emergency popped up. I believe she even had a concealed weapons permit for it. I thought about calling her last night just so she'd know exactly how far into home making I've finally fallen, but at that point, it was past bedtime in her time zone.

The nice man at the crafts store who told me how to make my wreath made it sound like any idiot can operate this home crafting tool. He was wrong. I'm going to lobby my congressman to pass a three-day waiting period for glue gun purchases so adequate background checks can be performed. If such legislation were in effect now, I'd never get my hands on the weapon.

Fortunately I'd had the forethought to lay newspaper down on our table. The first pump of the gun shot a giant inferno of clear adhesive. This must be a 30-caliber glue gun; the package didn't say. But I could've brought down an elephant with that first round. Then I pushed on the glue stick to make sure it was secure. I should've clicked on the safety first -- more hot ooze shot out onto the newspaper. That's when I realized I needed a Kevlar vest.

Then I actually started applying the glue to all of my autumn finery. I'd already secured them in the grapevines, so this seemed superfluous to me. But the nice man at the store assured me I needed this glue, so I applied it. I started shooting various points of each decoration, one after the other. After about the 12th shot, I realized I had thin lines of glue running like Charlotte's web all over my creation. All that was missing was "SOME PIG" across the middle.

I put the gun down, picked off the glue web and surveyed my handy work. When I hung the wreath on the door, I was more than a little impressed with my efforts. This is a whole new side of me I never imagined could even exist.

But I never had a toddler who'd become so enthused over my amateur artwork that she'd attempt to engage it in conversation. It's been more than 31 years since I've approached Halloween with the mindset of a 15-month-old who found even a pumpkin seed on the floor is an amazing discovery. I can't remember the last time I was transfixed by flickering light in a hollowed-out pumpkin or marveled at the crunch of a fallen brown oak leaf.

So I guess this holiday season does deserve extra effort. As Martha herself would say, "It's a good thing."

1 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Being the aforementioned sister-in-law, I say, "It's about time you get your permit... guns are still ablazin' down here in Texas." Now just wait til you get a scroll saw, wood burner, full set of acrylic paints, paint brushes, gobs of fake flowers in every color, and a custom workbench painted glowing yellow and custom embellished by your 3 year old. THEN you will have joined the sisterhood of crappers - oops, I mean crafters.

8:00 PM  

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