If I had a hammer

    There are a lot of things going on this month – Mother’s Day, three birthdays, and Teacher Appreciation Week, on top of all the other things that I normally try to get done, and 5 days without power. My usual laissez-faire attitude about gifts kicked me in the butt – I don’t know how pioneer women stitched by firelight, because I nearly set myself on fire trying to get close enough to the candle flame to actually see what I was doing. No wonder everyone only had one good dress and one every day dress – they couldn’t see to make any others!

Anyway, I finally decided that I was going to attempt to stamp the boys’ names into metal washers, and somehow turn those washers into gifts for their grandmas for Mother’s Day. It seemed easy when I was reading about it – I even managed to find the metal stamps that I wanted at Harbor Freight. While I was there, I also picked up a rubber mallet because (1) I knew I’d never figure out where my husband had stashed the hammer, and (2) that’s what I thought I would need for the project. Turns out, not so much. Although I managed to avoid hitting my thumb, I also managed to avoid making any sort of mark on the washer. I eventually gave up, assuming that I just didn’t have the muscle, and figuring I’d make my husband do it when he got home. Little did I know, it was the rubber mallet. One uses a rubber mallet when one does NOT want to make a mark while hammering. Who knew? (Obviously, not me.) The good news: while I was stomping around the shop in frustration, I found the hammer. And finally, this is what I ended up with:


I laced the washers together with ribbon, threaded some beads on the ribbon, and sandwiched it all between two pieces of felt, embroidered with my mom’s initial. And here’s the one for my mother-in-law:


If I had any washers left, I’d make on for myself!


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