It’s one of the oldest themes of my blog: handmade. This weekend I went back to those roots, finding simple joy in the handcrafted pleasures of…oh, who am I kidding? UncleF#*k-Up finally bottled the beer after an extra week of fermenting, and I cursed the makers of the cheap crap tubing and tube clamp with which you’re supposed to fill the bottles. Honestly, an extra tenth of a cent in the quality of the clamp would’ve actually let it clamp closed without suddenly springing open and spraying beer and sanitizing solution all over the sink. Despite many stupid realizations-oh, GRAVITY can help liquid to flow from one vessel to another-I actually finished the project with Child Harbat’s help. This meant I was free to move on to the next project, one I’d promised to help her with all weekend: the leprechaun house. I’d say 90% of this project was the pre-construction explanations of how this wasn’t a leprechaun trap but a leprechaun house. What goes in to a leprechaun house? I’m glad you asked because now I’m an expert. Requirements:
– one table with a pair of candles on it and a bottle cap for a bowl
– one chair with a padded seat so the leprechaun doesn’t get uncomfortable, God forbid, in his totally rent-free house
– a bedroom with a bed and a padded pillow to rest his head, but no accounting for where to rest his hat or beard
– a pot of gold to lure him in even though THIS IS NOT A TRAP IT’S A HOUSE, BABBO!
When CH made the pot of gold she filled up the bottom of the vessel with gravel so her few gold coins could rest on top, much like the mercantile trickery in a gift basket of stuffing the bottom with brown paper so it looks like your basket is abbondanza with summer sausages, boxes with five crackers, and cheeses the you’ve never heard of that don’t require refrigeration.
My work included construction of the table, the house, the doors, and [beaming widely] hand sewing the pillow. These are the meager fruits of a hard day’s work.
Writer, architect, father, husband.