Thursday, March 21, 2013

just call me aretha

wreaths_ home3 wreaths_-2 wreath3
I have a bit of an obsession. 


I will go so far to say that a room without a wreath is like a day without a sunrise. Chips without salsa. Sundays without Downton.

Clearly, I mean business. 

When a room feels off, I add a wreath. It's what I do. Call me Aretha. :) My witty Preacher Man hubs does. When the wreath-making-mood strikes, Aretha doesn't fight it. She respects the hankering and gets to work. Heh. 

Turning a blind eye to the laundry pile and crumbs on the kitchen floor, I fire up the glue gun and create the afternoon away. I hum and sing hymns while I work. Or country music songs. It's inevitable that my fingers get burned or poked and I'm well known for ripping the whole dang wreath apart because it doesn't look right. 

But give a girl a discarded drop cloth and she'll cut and pin until there's a frayed beauty hanging on her kitchen door. Hymnal pages glued to a straw form can sing again. Cheesy novels beg to be ripped up and shaped into cones. Green sprays are unruly and hard to tame, but make for a wildly wonderful wreath on the coat closet. 

Am I the only one with a wreath fetish? What has kept your hands and minds busy this long winter? 

Don't let your doors go naked, friends. 



  1. Haha! I'm in the middle of a yarn wrapped wreath right now!! Hubby was like, what are you doing?? Lol!

  2. Don't hate me, but I don't have a single wreath in my abode at the moment. I took down the winter wreaths and now I'm wreathless. Time to fire up the glue gun!

    Thanks for the beautiful inspiration. Nice work, Aretha!

  3. you are cute. and lovin that plain green one. what does it look like from the front? what's it made out of?



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