Life on the Road – Trucking News Blog

Oh it all started simple enough. Eggs. Not the farm or supermarket kind. No. Used ones. Amazingly she managed to get all the yucky stuff out. Then a “scene” would somehow be put inside. A little ground hog standing in the grass or a cute deer near a tree. At Christmas time, she would put a little Santa and miniature reindeer inside the egg. Then the finished “thing” (egg) would sit on a fancy plastic gold stand.

Then the rocks. And not just any rocks. They had to be the kind that motels, banks and fast food places use instead of grass. They’re small, mostly flat and very smooth. Some call them river rocks. I would collect (steal) them from all over the country, put them in the truck and transport them home. What’s that? You ask what for? She would paint little pictures on them. More ground hogs, reindeer, more Santa at Christmas), rabbits for Easter) and even a duck or two. They made great paper weights.

Life goes on. We got older and busier. No more eggs and rocks. Now there was needlepoint, sewing and the occasional quilt. There was painting on things like saw blades, mail boxes, pots and pans. Apparently lots of folks – especially in Pennsylvania and Wisconsin – like to paint things like red barns on old saw blades. I’m not sure exactly why they do this – but the winters can be long in those places.

Times marches on. I have to spend more and more time on the road. She was alone more and more. And then it happened. I blame myself. I don’t think it happened overnight. It kind of crept up slowly over time. I feel stupid for not seeing it.

I came home after five weeks of being on the road. I couldn’t believe it. My wife of 30 years had gone over to the dark side. Our home had been transformed into a craft studio. No, that’s not it. A craft STORE. Yeah, that’ what it was. Reams of colored paper, crayons, sharpies, things that glow in the dark, boxes of stuff from HSN (Home Shopping Network) Exacto and QVC, tubs and tubes of every possible color of paint imaginable, fabrics a plenty, knives, scissors, felt, patterns and molds. Just when did we inherit all this money to buy computerized sewing machines? And that antique one? And that other one?

And the glue. How much glue can one human being have? She has pints and gallons of the stuff. And every dispenser of the sticky “guew” that has been invented since the beginning of time. You know those small clear plastic drawers that guys keep screws, hooks and lures in? Well, there were hundreds of them. She must have cleaned Home Depot, Lowe’s and Michaels (a large craft nationwide craft store) out. They were filled with fake eyes and other strange things that eventually will get glued down somewhere on something.

Then there was what used to be my office. It is now the “craft room.” It seems I was evicted without notice. The wall where I hung my models and awards were gone. Replaced by at least three hundred rubber stamps housed in what used to be painters boxes. The only remains of ME being there is my prized English armoire that is filled with – yup you guessed it – craft supplies, books, magazines and if you look hard enough, more glue. It is so stuffed with “stuff” you can’t close the doors anymore.

This whole craft thing for women is more than a hobby. Every weekend my wife teams up with the rest of her crafters rat pack – typically passionate 50 something educated experienced women who devote gobs of any spare time and money they have to engage in scrapbooking and other “crafty” activities. Last year she even went on a 4 day scrapbooking cruise to Mexico. When not at sea, they’re in their minivans making the rounds at Michaels, Franks and every krazy noodle cadoodle “craft corner” place in the Sunshine state watching Carol Duvall on the DVD/CD player.

Bottom line, I’m really happy for her. She seems to having a lot of fun. The “clutter” has unfortunately spread to our bedroom and the room my son recently moved out of. I don’t want to talk about the garage  – it’s too depressing. That’s a future story. I drive down the interstates of America knowing she has a whole “gaggle” of friends and projects to work on. This November is the next cruise. I’ll be working. Oh darn. On the dash of my KW is one of those painted rocks with you know what on it -  little reindeer and Santa to remind me of Christmas and home. Awe.

Photo credits pending.