Among the many fine qualities my kids possess is the ability to remember my random “Gee, that would be cool”s and translate them into a Christmas present. I was chewing the fat with John much earlier this year and said “Gee, I think woodburning might be cool.” The UPS man delivered a big box a few days before Christmas, and there it was, “With love from Honor and John.” Included was “Pyrography Workbook,” which tells me everything I need to know to get started. The hundreds of glossy examples of the pyrographer’s art are pretty darn intimidating, showing as they do photographically realistic wolves, owls, elephants and lions. I never knew that nature study was why I wanted a woodburning kit. It isn’t, and that’s not just sour grapes because I know I’ll never achieve those artists’ virtuosity.I’m humbled: woodburning is hard.
It’ll be awhile until my technique is good enough to earn a Cub Scout merit badge, let alone burn a rearing stallion onto a block of walnut, but hey, I like the learning part. The toughest part is finding untreated, unvarnished wood. But as my intention all along had been to play around decorating humble household items, I found a good bulk price in wooden spoons. Not any wooden spoons: wooden spoons with flat handles. Here’s my first attempt, and it’s OK to laugh:
I had fun! I didn’t burn myself or anything other than the spoon. The kitchen smelled like summer camp. I know I should learn something practical, like plumbing or car maintenance — you know, something home – related but actually useful. But what I’m really contemplating is a run to Ikea to see if they carry untreated wooden hangers.
I promise not to take up lanyard braiding. Well, maybe.
Cheap and Cheerful 
Lots of untreated wood here. C’mon up…and bring your chain saw!
Ahhh, the scent of burning wood competing with the aromas of turkey and sweet-tater casserole early on Christmas Morning!! My boys just couldn’t wait to try out the kits, and so they ignored the last several presents to set up shop at the table.
The first scenes were war-bonnets and woods-of-Maine, I remember, and they hung catty-wampus on the den wall for years.
So, here’s the thing. I read. A lot. For work. Never (ever) do I read for pleasure – pure pleasure, although I consider the newspaper a treat.
Finally, I found something I like to read (ok, I’ve only three blog entries, but it’s not really the hour to make a cuppa and pick up Dickenson). And you’ve stopped!
Please reconsider the terms of your life stage. I understand that grand motherhood brings the privilege of doing whatever you want (for your grandchildren) but what about us menopausal women who need a midnight diversion?
Surely, your family will understand. Write on!