Cinnamon Dough Ornaments

Cinnamon Dough Ornaments

Makes about a dozen, medium to large ornaments

Dough Ingredients

    1 cup ground cinnamon
    1 cup applesauce
    1/4 cup white school glue

Preparing the Dough

    Mix ground cinnamon applesauce and glue in a large mixing bowl
    Mix ground cinnamon with applesauce and white glue in a large mixing bowl.
    If the mixture feels too stiff, add a touch of water.
    Knead the clump together and wrap it in some plastic wrap, allowing it to sit for about an hour.

Making the Cookies

    Sprinkle some cinnamon on your prep area and roll the dough out to about 1/2″.
    Use your cookie cutters to create fun shapes in the dough; or
    Make coils of dough and sculpt your own designs such as letters and shapes.
    Be sure to punch a hole in the top of each shape with a straw or pencil.

Drying or Baking the Ornaments

    You can either let them dry naturally over a period of 3 to 5 days, or you can bake them in an oven at 200 degrees for about 2 hours (making sure you flip them halfway through).

This year’s ornaments. Yeah, I know– Martha’s job is totally safe. Hint: if the results of a for-child craft look perfect, it was likely not made by children. But the stars are mine, wink.

This year we added names in the hopes of preventing a repeat of “I don’t know which candy cane is yours” argument.

Cinnamon Dough Ornaments

For better or worst, we make these ornaments (or the salt dough version) every year. Handprints. Shapes. It’s fun, it’s easy*.

*Yes, it IS easy. With one child, calm children, or adults.

I realized today that the Making of the Ornament marks a milestone stored in the oldest Small Person’s head: CHRISTMAS IS ALMOST HERE.

So yes, they want to make the ornaments. They love to see the previous year’s ornaments when we decorate the tree.

However, the ACT of ornament-making with twitchy little boys sort of feels like I’m being punk’d by Santa.

On the bright side, tasting the dough isn’t a temptation (to me!) because of the glue. Also, the cinnamon in the oven smelled more festive than dirty dog feet and little boy farts.

Oh, did I neglect to mention that a contest of competing farts was the Funniest.Thing.Ever?

Boys, they pee all over the floor and fart all over your house. And we love them anyway.

Not a Snowball’s Chance

When you’re wearing shorts and a t-shirt as temperatures hover in the sixties and it’s the middle of December… snow seems unlikely.

But this is North Carolina and I’m out of milk so it will probably snow tomorrow.

Elliot goes to a co-op preschool and I was in charge of the Winter Party. It was Joel and I– which turned out to be really special for E, since he’s never had the two of us without his brother. Poor Second Born child.

I always planned for the stuff around the party– crafts, games, favors– to be very simple. Why? Because these are 3 and 4 year olds and they have the attention span of hyperactive gnats.

Then I saw a friend’s pictures of felt snowballs. FELT SNOWBALLS! Have you ever heard of such a wonderful thing?

I hadn’t, but of course it exists! Michelle, author at Rust & Sunshine not only made some, she also provides a free pattern so you can do it, too.

*No, really– she did all the work already– I’m not typing out my own version of her instructions, because that would be, 1) a copyright violation, and 2) redundant.

First, I made two snowballs and handed them off to my Small People. If there is a way to cause either body or property damages with felt, it’s gonna be my kids.

After they remained both injury and argument free, I added balled up socks to their stash and started sewing the class snowballs. Party favors, dontcha know? Two balls per kid– because one snowball per kid is lame– for a total of 24 felt snowballs.

The greatest time investment–as it always is with sewing– was in the cutting. The sewing part only took 3-4 minutes per ball.

The 30 minutes of sustained fun had by the hyperactive gnats? Worth it!

Felt Snowball Fight copy

When Pinterest Changed the World

You’ve heard of Pinterest, right? And then, because one cannot have yin without yang; Pinterest, You are Drunk? I have a personal submission for the second link: remember, laughing at other people without also laughing at yourself makes you an asshole.

I am a procrastinator. I make To Do lists only to willfully ignore every item. I seek pressure-filled, adrenaline-rushed situations. Setting soft deadlines for myself is like putting mashed cauliflower on a plate and calling it potatoes: a nice thought, but not fooling anyone.

In a few weeks, each of the Small People start schools in different zip codes. For those keeping notes, ADHD folk (yup, that’s me) generally struggle with multiple transitions. Multiple transitions involving two people that regularly take 20 minutes to walk a mere five feet? Valium anyone?

Sane Other people might be spending these next two weeks soaking in time with the kids, making lunch menus, planning outfits and updating the family calendar.

Or finishing the other important things like emailing Z’s new principal a head’s up that the child is capable of reading Harry Potter level text– but might prefer to speak his made up dragon language on testing day. Or perhaps dropping off his immunization records.

To that end, getting E’s health form filled out.

Or buying that other car, since the insurance company totaled out the Scion.

Instead of doing any of those things, I am sifting through mountains of paper and spray painting stuff.

To thine own self be true, right?

Wistfully reminiscing about that timeI was alone in my home for an entire weekend.

Because pinterest didn’t exist back then–

Make a DIY Upcycled Repurposed Deck Planter Box

Between our fence and the house, where a sad, sagging thing called gate once lived, we now have a giant deck box planter. A rocking, upcycled, no-cost deck box planter. Of course there are flowers in it now!

Ghetto gate was removed when the boys decided on Birthday Extravaganza 2011 being a home party. I then spent the next 6 months screeching “hurry up” as Old Dog #1 looked oh-so-carefully for her special pee-pee place.

The solutions I had come up with were laughably painful. Brick and mortars walls, for example. But there is concrete under there, and I don’t want any part of a jackhammer.

Then pinterest delivered unto me a living hedge.

I’m not going to lie, I adore the stainless steel trough look. As it turns out, they are pretty damn expensive. I tried to convince JB that we could fashion something similar from flashing, or stainless steel sheeting like the kitchen backsplash, but he wasn’t buying it.

Then there was the issue of Small People and scorching hot metal all summer long.

Soooo… since I had already built a wood deck box, back in the old days–Wave hello at gestating Zach!–JB and I decided that we could use the deconstructed gate and panel to make a new box.

Almost all furniture building, starts with a basic shape (in this case a rectangle).

First you need a base.

Then you need uprights and a helper.

And some sides.

And a superhero.

Having an identity crisis.

Leftover stain. I used 3 different kinds and mixed ’em.

But I don’t own staining gloves. What’s up with that? Ah, but I do have plastic bags.

Now I didn’t want to fill this bad boy up with dirt, because that would make it weigh more than a show pony. I also didn’t want to spend the money on containers… but I did have a perfectly sized trashcan.

That said, I didn’t want to fill the trash can up with dirt, either. Oh…gallon milk jugs that JB wanted to recycle.

And the newspaper I’ve been saving.

My mixture.

You’d never know what’s down below!

Now it’s all filled in so you can’t see the containers unless you are right on top of it. Which I can (and will) fix with landscape fabric. Eventually.

A few of the other plants.

I’m going to miss tiki man so much when he finally breaks. But 8 years off of a $5 Big Lots purchase makes me smile.

DIY with your kids: Mudpie Kitchen

Yet another brilliant idea from pinterest. Mud pie kitchen? Yes, please.

Why, mud pie?

1) I’m developing a moderate hatred of sand boxes. Sand on its own irritates enough; sand on a Small Person morphs to something parasitic. Hitching a ride in underwear, hair, socks, shorts pockets (grrr!) until it finds my bed sheets. Then–and only then– sand detaches from the Small Person. I’m like the Princess and the Pea with that stuff.

2) Using only upcycled/repurposed wood, the original project plan cost $5 (sink and cooking supplies from the dollar store). The final version included a $10 splurge for new lumber (1 x 2 Pressure-Treated Pine Strips). Pulling splinters out of the hands of Small People has to qualify as a circle of hell.

3) The purpose of the project made it really easy for to say “yes” when the Small People asked “can we help”.

Here’s how:

Step One (not pictured):
Determine your dimensions, make measurements, and gather supplies.

My table is 48 inches long, 22 inches tall, with a depth of 23 inches. Yes, it’s an odd height/depth– using scraps of wood for a project often requires flexibility.

Step Two: Assemble the frame for the counter
Two kids equals a need for two sinks, so the counter is a rectangle. I used standard 1x2s, repurposed from the now-dismantled fence gate.

Question: You have 2 Small People to drill eight holes, in 4 pieces of wood. If both Small People start getting grabby at their second turn, how long before one Mom gets the fake smile face?

Answer: Quicker than it should.

Patience practice– not just for kids.

Elliot drills his first hole; I’m reminded to use more oomph on chuck-tightening.

Step Three: Add reinforcements at the corners

When involving furniture with children, one should always add reinforcements at the joints.

When involving furniture building with children, one should anticipate it taking about the same amount of time as it took the tree to grow.

I mostly managed to remain cheerful. Watching E manhandle a drill that packs almost as many pounds as he does was sorta awesome. Some additional time spent debating with JB about the intelligence of letting Z use the miter saw.

Check it out– hearing protection, eye protection, my hand on the wood (keeping his hand out of blade range) while he pushes the button? I feel like the only one at real risk is, well, me.

When involving children with furniture building, one should be expectant and tolerant of imperfections. Secretly fix the tetanus risk later, while they dream the sweet dream of real power tools.

Step Four: Measure and cut the slats for the countertop
Like I mentioned, my original plan was to use fence paneling, but I just wasn’t happy with the look and feel of them during the dry fit.

So I sent JB to the hardware store to grab some more 1x2s, and used those instead.

I added a top frame of 1x2s to the base, for stability, and a place to screw the the cross slats (from the bottom). I screwed them in with the “sinks” in place to make sure that each one was snug, but still removable.

I have this thought to eventually replace the plastic bins with real sinks. Which makes me kick myself for not keeping the sinks from the bathroom remodels.

Step Five: Attach the legs

Four pieces of wood, wood glue, and some screws. I totally confess to using netflix and Spiderman as a bargaining tool for doing this part solo. Next time I run across some old wheels/castors, I’ll add those as well.

At 22 inches, I love the height for Elliot (~38 inches). If it were just Zach, I would have gone taller.

The minute the I put the drill down– literally, see the glue still dripping– I had two Small People ready to test the mud pie kitchen for the first time.

Step Six: Stain the Wood

Despite using pressure treated wood, I added stain. One, because of the table’s purpose– mud and water, and two because the stain was sitting right in front of my face from the upcycled deck planter box I’ll show you tomorrow.

Yeah, we dig it, Mom.

Pinterest Perfection and Flower Shaped Soap

Shoving pinterest perfection up your flower shaped soap

Okay, so the newest viral facebook thing is a post (both well-written and topical) about the dark lure of perfection, as represented on pinterest.

As a woman who regularly tries–and fails–at some brilliant thing I’ve found on the internet, I get–and sort of agree– with the point she is making. No one should look at another person’s life– as they are representing it on the internet– and assume complete objectivity. Very few people showcase their failures, or the piles of dirty underwear– perhaps that should be the next blog movement? A new link up party for Show me Your Piles of Dirty Underwear Sundays?

Except– and we all know this would happen– people would start staging the underwear piles; adding creative lighting and photoshop actions. Posing their dirty undies in creative and witty ways. Next thing you know, instead claiming ownership and pride for the piles of dirty underwear (after all– piles of dirty underwear are the marker of an involved mom!) we’re competing and judging the ones that got a wee bit carried away by the dirty underwear display challenge.

At the end of the day, it’s all flower shaped soap, people. (BTW– that transition won’t make the least bit of sense if you haven’t read the original piece.)

Isn’t it ridiculous how often we– moms, women– allow ourselves to feel inadequate by other women? Good gravy, I bet some of y’all can cook, right? I hate to cook– and my disdain shows with almost every meal I forcefully slam on the table. I don’t feel down on myself when my friends cook delicious feasts– I do the dishes so they’ll invite me over again.

No mom should feel pressured to make flower shaped soap (or, in my case– mud pie kitchens). No mom should feel pressured to spend $100 on scholastic book orders, or to volunteer more of her time because she is, you know– a SAHM. Or to dress stylishly for carpool, or to always have a guest-ready house, or to always have clean, well-mannered children.

Now, there will always be bitchy women who want you to feel inferior for your store-bought play-doh. To them you should just smile, while delivering a mental double middle finger. These women just suck. They sucked in high school when they tittered about your clothes and motherhood didn’t make them suck less. They will find fault with whatever you craft/cook/wear because they have identified you as someone who cares about their opinions.

Screw ’em. They have vapid, empty lives. It confuses them when you stop caring. It’s so MUCH fun to confuse them.

However. In my– and the rest of my fellow flower-shaped-soap (mud pie kitchen) making moms— defense, it’s unfair to lump all of us into the “that mom” category. Perhaps my need to attempt ridiculous things like mud pie kitchens is selfishly driven.

Perhaps– and this is truth– I choose these projects because I need to have tangible accomplishments. Moments in my life beyond housework, playdates, tantrums, and the sound of Mooommm….come wipe my butt occurring at the same moment a forkful of warm food approaches my mouth.

So, for the moms that don’t want to make flower shaped soap, for the love of Cool Ranch Doritos–DON’T.

There are so many other reasons to feel inadequate. Here are a few I thought of:

        Punctual moms.
        Moms who don’t yell in public (I KNOW y’all are doing it at home! Dammit!).
        Working Moms who serve The Man (Woman) all day, and then serve The Family.
        Moms of special needs, or critically ill children. Just… yeah.
          Single Moms that manage not to spend the evening locked in a closet singing


    Shrug.  The rest of it is just noise.

The Lorax Project

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing’s going to get better. It’s not.

Sigh. People I just… sigh. Perhaps Dr. Suess had a bit of the Nostradamus, or maybe the warning theme of corporate greed and environmental waste was appropriate in the Seventies, too (cough-COUGH). Not like there weren’t any gas/environment/recession problems back then, right?

Zach missed a Nate the Great play last week that I – GASP– had the gall to attend with Elliot. To remain fair and balanced, I offered to take him to a movie on Sunday. I even ponied up the cash for movie popcorn, though I drew the line at the Red Dye #40 fruit punch, instead offering him a sip of my lawbreaking outside drink.

We watched. We laughed. We both cried; it’s SAD watching the Swomee-swans, the Brown Bar-ba-loots, and the Humming-fish leave after the last of the Truffula trees gets cut down. Rinse, Repeat.

We came home and planted sunflower seeds. I explained why it was necessary to pull weeds, and also why we were pulling them instead of spraying poisonous chemicals. We talked about why even those nature-things that are annoying (squirrels) have a place (without them burying acorns, there wouldn’t be any oak trees). We talked about a lot about how people get confused about what they think they thneed. I predict that this conversation will come up again later, despite thinking before I spoke– trying to make honesty* age appropriate isn’t easy.

*Okay, I don’t lie, but I do sometimes omit information. For example, I did not tell Zach that the “The Men’s Club” (oh, learning to read–double-edged sword) we pass on the way to karate is a strip club. And for that preschool, you may thank me.

But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to use this experience (and his reaction to it) as a conversation starter, a motivator. As a matter of fact, there’s a really neat collection of information being collected at The Lorax Project.

We Speak for the Earth! and other stuff I pinned on pinterest


Look around– these are some examples corporate greed, ignorance and environmental waste that have pissed me off. This week.

Amazon the Exploiter or why Amazon pays for on-call ambulances.

Reading the comments included in any online discussion of Trayvon Martin’s murder. It wasn’t until the comments that I fully realized how many of the annoyingly ignorant and racist have internet access. It wasn’t the “liberal media”, Obama, or Al Sharpton that shot that child in the street. That person is in hiding– AS HE SHOULD BE, dude killed an innocent CHILD.

Fracking in NC. Just. No.

And look who’s back in the news? My favorite-love-to-hate companies, Monsanto and Dow. What are those crazy kids doin —- what the hell? Why, WHY is Agent Orange resistant corn on the USDA’s docket?

It’s not as if Agent Orange made anyone sick already, right?

Just this week! And it’s only MONDAY.

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing’s going to get better. It’s not.

Eggless Chocolate Black Bean Muffins

I made heart-shaped, chocolate black beans muffins for Z’s preschool Valentine’s Day Party. Why? Because I saw how on pinterest, (original link, here) and it’s just too easy.

Insert marbles before baking to hold the cupcake liners and bake. I filled the liners first, then placed my marbles.

Heart-shaped, chocolate-y goodness? But of course. Heart-shaped chocolate-y goodness that is made with black beans(!) but not eggs(!!)

Huzzah, folks.

In general, I’ve found Madhuram’s eggless cooking to be a real asset in my I’m-going-to-sneak-healthy-into-you-without-your-consent quest. It’s moderately important to me that I provide them with a choice selection of sweet goodies, but I never promised not to use black beans, whole wheat flour, and dark chocolate.

If you don’t want to click through to Madhuram’s site (and you should), here’s the recipe.

Vegan Chocolate Cupcakes Recipe

Yields: 12 Regular Size Cupcakes & 12 Mini Cupcakes OR 16 Regular Size Cupcakes

1 And 1/4 Cups Sugar
1/2 Cup Prune Puree (Substitute For 2 Eggs) [or any other egg replacer– I’ve used both bananas and yogurt]
2 Tablespoons Water
1/3 Cup Canola Oil
One 15.5Oz Can or 1.5 Cups Cooked, Drained, Rinsed And Pureed Black Beans
2 Teaspoons Vanilla Extract
1 Cup All Purpose Flour
1/2 Cup Cocoa Powder [I used special dark for that extra oomph]
2 Teaspoons Baking Powder
1/2 Teaspoon Baking Soda

Preheat oven to 375F for 15 minutes. Grease or line with paper liners 1 regular size muffin tin and 1 mini muffin tin.

Drain the black beans from the can, rinse it well under running water and puree it in a food processor/blender using approximately 1/4 cup of water. The puree should be very smooth without any lumps. [When you think you are done, go ahead and stay it for another 30 seconds or so. Trust me.]

To this also add the sugar, prune puree [or other egg replacement thing], 2 tablespoons of water, canola oil and vanilla extract. Process/blend it again for another 2-3 minutes. Transfer it to a large bowl.

In a small bowl whisk together flour, cocoa powder, baking powder and baking soda.

Add the flour mixture to the wet ingredients in 3 parts. That is, first add 1/3rd of the flour mixture to the bean and prune puree, mix it well. Then add another 1/3rd and then the last 1/3rd of the flour mixture. Having some lumps is fine. I found that using a wire whisk to mix the batter worked well than using a spatula. The batter was in the consistency of pancake batter. Initially I felt that the quantity of the wet ingredients was way too much, but once I started mixing it to the flour I was relieved to find out that the proportions were getting right.

[Note– I add in a few chocolate chips to each muffin, for that extra oomph.]

Fill the muffin wells 2/3rds full, around 3 tablespoons of the batter. For the mini muffin tin, just use 1 tablespoon. I placed both the muffin tins in the same rack. The mini muffins were done by 9 minutes and the regular size muffins around 14 minutes. Oven temperatures may vary so check for doneness by inserting a toothpick in the center and it should come out clean.

Cool in pan for 5 minutes. Slide a knife around the edges of the cupcake and invert the tin slowly. The cupcakes will fall down, cool them on a rack. Frosting is optional.

[Her] NOTES:
For the prune puree (she) used 2 jars (2.5oz each) of Beech Nut’s baby food. Applesauce [bananas, yogurt] can also be instead of prune puree.

Melted butter or any vegan butter substitute can be used in place of the canola oil. The original recipe called for soy margarine. [I use real butter]

I recently have found out that using 1/4 teaspoon of baking soda for each egg replaced gives the light and airy texture to the baked product. In this recipe I used 1/2 cup of prune puree to substitute 2 eggs, so I used 1/2 teaspoon baking soda in total. The result was vegan chocolate cupcakes with the spongy texture of the usual cupcakes. [We didn’t have prunes last night, so we used the Ener-g egg replacer instead. Result = tasted a lot like brownie cupcakes]

It’s challenging to cook for children with food allergies. Both of my children are allergic to eggs– which makes baking… fun.

Wait, fun isn’t the right word. Colossal pain in the ass? Meh– not so much. As it turns out, their egg allergy makes it simple for me to say no to a never-ending parade of unhealthy sugary deliciousness:

Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry– but donuts have eggs in them.

Beautiful– the egg takes it all- I can neither be blamed, nor harassed about the treat once the verdict of “it has eggs” has been delivered.

Now, I don’t give two flips about donuts– part of my seven circles of hell decade of servitude in the grocery store industry included a rotation in the deli. Donuts kinda make me hurl. Unless it’s a Krispy Kreme donut fresh from the Hot Now sign lighting. In college, there was a Krispy Kreme within walking distance– the red glow of the sign just strong enough to hit my bedroom window if I closed my left eye, while squinting my right eye, and wishing with all of my not-so-sober heart.

But I digress, in a huge way– you can’t even know how badly. At least not until tomorrow. Anyway, I don’t miss donuts. But I absolutely, with all of my hippie heart, miss greasy fried chicken and southern biscuit breakfasts.

But I don’t have to miss delicious muffins, masquerading as cupcakes. With 18 grams of protein.

Happy V-Day!

Bunk Bed Tents

Before anyone starts doing the cough-laugh thing whilst whispering “bless her heart” to themselves… I know. I feel the same way about the tent portion of the bed tent. The images on the inside? I traced what they wanted from that google place onto leftover scrap material, added some acrylic paint (and some glow in the dark paint) and was done in an hour. JB did the Millennium Falcon, after he fell to the floor laughing about how my version looked like a penis with some sort of testicle disease.

I had many,many dreams for the bed tents (damn you, pinterest!) But dreams are dreams and reality is, well. Life. 😀

Dream: You wait until the last minute (December 21st…) for stuff like this, while blithely waving your hand, saying, “it’ll take me an hour– tops”.
Reality: Your youngest child will puke that night followed by your oldest, 48 hours later. In between they will seek your love and attention. You will feel like a douchebag for ditching them to sew. You sigh and sit with your children. As it should be.

Dream: You will decide to wait until Christmas night, since you know you are getting a new sewing machine.
Reality: Sixteen seconds after you get motivated to unpack the new toy, you– and the rest of the street, oy he’s loud– hear your husband vomit. He will then spend the first 2 days of vacation either holding down the couch, or sitting really still on the floor watching cars spin on a track. I must pause and give some love– he was made a strong effort to play enough with the kids that I wasn’t bombarded the entire time.

Dream: Your husband is finally well enough to take kids away from the house for a 3 hour window. You can finish the tents!
Reality: You realize that the very reinforced window is crooked as hell. You will also realize that the up-cycled bed sheet is so old that ripping out seams is not an option. You nash your teeth, figure out a way to hang the monstrosity in the living room window and stare at it for 2 days.

Dream: You’ll just start over, you think.
Reality: Your kid has already said he didn’t care about the crooked window. If you start over you are in direct conflict with the “not everything has to be perfect”** life vibe you keep preaching.

Solution: You do your tracing thing and hot glue gun the pictures over the crooked window, which will now face the wall. Then you glance at your shiny new sewing machine and the now-hated bed tent. You feel the weight of the already heated glue gun. You hot glue gun the rest of it– sewing be damned.

**will resist urge to obsess about making upgraded bed tents. will…resist…**

My Creative Mind

Long before I had my own children, I overheard a stranger lightly scold her child’s use of his “creative mind” at a grocery store. That child was 1) old enough to know better, and 2) opening all of the freezer doors to knock down the carefully arranged boxes of food.

What does that story have to do with this post? Um. Nothing. Except I can’t use the phrase, creative mind without also thinking troublemaker. And considering that my husband reacts to 85.3% of my creative project ideas with the same thought, it seemed apropos.

One of my biggest ADHD challenges isn’t focus. Watch me read a book from a favorite author. 600 pages in a day? No problem. They refer to that as hyperfocus, and while challenging and disruptive, I cope okay.

No, my catastrophic problems occur more in the time estimation/management arena. For example, I think I can do almost anything in an hour, and that it only ever takes 15 minutes to get from Point A to B. Nevermind that nothing can be done in an hour anymore (Small People!) and it takes me 15 minutes to transition activities. That my tried and true time management methodology includes crisis and looming deadlines is problematic. But when some “normie” (aka, a typically thinking, non-ADHD person known as husband) tries to help me plan effectively, my immediate reaction is, “WTF—I’m not an idiot! I use to be a project manager!” And while both of those statements are true, I still slid right up to every deadline, often making them only by the hair of my chiny-chin-chin. Just a teeny bit of an adrenaline junky.

It’s that complete lack of time management that took me from webmd (checking for early strep throat symptoms– just in case) to facebook, to pinterest, then to here. It’s not a lack of focus– I’m hyperfocusing on NOT putting away a Mt. Everest sized pile of laundry. I’m totally smitten with pinterest. The possibilities. The creativity. The ability to symbolically collect magazine clippings without having a bunch of magazine clippings.

It brings joy to my heart, people.