Fiction vs. Non-fiction



Do you believe in Shrinky-dinks?



I remember being amazed by the world when I was little. Then I grew up and stopped seeing. And then I had children.

For me, one of the best things in life is noticing the miracles that take place around us every day. I love the way children remind us of these things. I used to peer into my little Shrinky-dink oven and watch with my mouth open as the plastic curled and twisted as if it were alive, then relaxed and flattened into a much smaller version of itself.

Children are born with their minds wide open. My youngest is that that age where she is trying to figure out what to believe, and what to doubt. For now, this appears in the form of sorting fiction from reality. "Mommy, is this movie real?" No, guinea pigs cannot talk, even of you give them tiny spy translators. No, you cannot make a house fly by tying a bunch of balloons to it. No, a giant lady is not under the water letting her goldfish children grow arms and legs and visit us on land.

At the same time, this daughter of mine is exploring the world of writing. She asks how to spell words and scribbles little stories into tiny notebooks. 

One Upon a Pon
"Don't you mean p-a-w-n, like in chess?"
"No, Mommy, a Pon, like Upon."



She tells stories in the car and, although they are usually pretty interesting, I do admit to sometimes concentrating on the road and mumbling the occasional 'Mmmm, hmm." Yesterday she was telling a story and said, "Then they came down in a parachute...Mommy, are parachutes real?"

"Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Woooow!" Her voice was full of awe and appreciation.

"What about jet packs?"

"No, no jet packs." (Although, come to find out I might have been wrong on that one. Ironic that we were having this conversation as a man was jetting over the Grand Canyon.) "But it is true that people used to be able to go to the moon."

"Ha! That's not true!"

"Yes. Yes it is. It happened before I was born, but now we can't do it anymore because our computers are too delicate."

"Mommy, that is not real."

"It is! The first man to walk on the moon was named Neil Armstrong."

"No way. That is not even a real name!"

How could I argue with that?

These kinds of conversations open me up to being able to experience the everyday wonders in our world. We see marvelous, unbelievable things every day and don't even stop to marvel or disbelieve. Airplanes fly past the palm trees and I seldom stop to think--flying vehicles filled with people? Amazing! Water loving palm trees in the middle of the desert? How amazing (and sort of sad, right?) that we've figured out a way to get that much water right where they need it!

Shrinky-dink paper still comes alive as it shrinks, although my current oven is much bigger than the one I used in the '70s. I discovered the idea of making Shrinky-dink rings on etsy. I saw some very cute little rings that I loved. But since etsy is supposed to be all handmade, I thought the seller was stretching the definition of handmade. How could someone possibly print pictures onto plastic rings and call that handmade? It must be done by a big fancy machine. Then it dawned on me...those rings were handmade from Shrinky-dink paper! I googled Shrinky-dink rings and found an awesome tutorial by Planet June. Even though you might be tempted to do without a tutorial--the basic concept is obvious enough to anyone who has ever played with shrink plastic--you might want to look at it anyway. She has some great tips and gives the measurements she uses.

Shrinky-dink paper is something that we keep around the house, (because it is a necessity, that's why!) so it was easy to sit down and make a bunch of tiny rings. My oldest is studying the California gold rush in school right now, so she made a ring with golden nuggets and "49ers" written on it. The baby used rubber stamps to make a duck ring and a dog ring. My son sat this one out. He'd rather read a book about origami yodas than make girly rings out of plastic.

I made the tree ring to go with a polymer clay tree necklace. It was for a swap with the theme 'tree in your pocket'. I kind of botched that one; this is more like trees around your neck and finger, but the person I sent to didn't seem to mind. I suppose she can put these into her pocket of she wants to.

Playdough for Grownups

Instead of giving my children playdough, I like to give them small chunks of polymer clay. The things they make are tiny (good for fine motor skills) and can be baked immediately, then stowed away in their keepsakes collection. And, truth be told, another part of the appeal is that I can sit down and play with them and call it 'crafting'.

These fun little corn and toast pendants were my attempt at kawaii. They are small enough to wear as a necklace. They were gifted to my friend, whose daughter loves kawaii. (Kawaii is the Japanese word for cute. Run an image search on Google if you'd like to see some kawaii items.) I have to admit I can't quite put my finger on exactly what qualifies as kawaii.  If anyone can clarify in the comments section, I'd love to hear from you!



The polymer clay we use at home is Sculpey. It is inexpensive, available in large multicolor sampler packs, immediately ready for use, and soft enough for little hands to form. However, Sculpey tends to hold fingerprints and easily takes on nicks. (Note the fingernail nick in the toast's eye and the small indentations in the mouths on both figures (left by the skewer I used to push the mouths onto the faces).)

Fimo is actually my favorite polymer clay for adult crafting because when swirling colors together, the borders remain sharp. This is especially important when making polymer clay canes. Fimo does not retain as many fingerprints and does not nick as easily. Finally, I love Fimo because it was the first polymer clay I ever used, back when I was an exchange student in Germany. However, Fimo takes some kneading to get it in shape for use and it is a little more difficult to work with because of a general 'crumbliness'. It is also slightly more expensive than Sculpey.

Toast + Corn: True Love Always

Homemade beads--how I got by in Anchorage.

When I was twenty, I headed for Alaska. I had heard that it was a good place to earn money for college, so when school let out after my sophmore year, I headed north. I took a Greyhound bus to Seattle, then stayed in a hostel until I found a ride to Anchorage. That drive was so beautiful that I actually put my book down to watch out the window. I saw moose, and a bear. I saw colors that I had never imagined. My mental paradigm of scope and scale was overhauled. Brittish Columbia--oh how I'd love to go back someday.

By the time we rolled into Anchorage, I had heard back from a company that had interviewed me while I was in Seattle. I had a job, but it didn't start for another week. In the meantime, I used most of my remaining cash for a few nights in the local hostel, but I didn't have enough for the last five days. Food was no problem. I met a man who was visiting Alaska just for fishing. Every night he came back with a fresh caught salmon, baked it, and shared it with me. 

But I needed to find a way to pay for the remaining nights in the hostel. (I had a tent, so if I couldn't make some money, I could camp in the woods somewhere. But I wasn't that daring; I was hoping it wouldn't come to that.) I went to a local craft store and used my last dollars to buy a variety pack of Fimo polymer clay. Then I made beads, cooked them in the hostel oven, and strung them into necklaces. The next day I went from store to store asking if they would like to sell my necklaces; I charged ten dollars a piece and they marked them up to twenty. I made enough money to pay for the rest of my time in the hostel. I feasted on salmon each night. I explored during the day. I read. What sounds like a terrible situation--hundreds of miles from home, with no money--was actually one of the brightest times of my life.