Please water your dead wood, every two weeks.

This weekend, I took a basketweaving class at Hill Country Weavers. It was affordable, and I'd always been a little interested. Plus, it never hurts to have a new crafty skill, right?

We made a God's Eye melon basket. It took about three hours. When we were done, the teacher held up one of the baskets for everyone to see. "Make sure you spritz your basket with water every two weeks to maintain its condition."

Excuse me?

"Even if you treat it with sealant, you still need to spritz it. Otherwise it will get hard and brittle."

You mean I have to water my basket? Every two weeks? I know wool sweaters need some tender loving care, but I don't have to freakin' water them.

This teacher was telling us earlier how she teaches at weeklong basketweaving retreats, and she has furniture that is built from basketweaving. No doubt she gives away many of these baskets as gifts, otherwise she wouldn't be able to walk through her front door. "I'm so glad you like it!" I imagine her telling the recipients. "Now be sure to water it at least once every two weeks." And does she walk around her house every week or two to spritz her whole furniture set?

Suffice to say, you won't find me making any more baskets. In fact, I have no idea what I'm going to do with this one:



Wait a sec. Let me check that.

Oh, darn.

Yup. Adding some expensive insult to injury, my digital camera has crapped out. All I did between the last use and this morning was recharge the batteries. The display works just fine. I can look at pictures taken before the aneurysm without a problem, which means it's something in the works that can't be fixed by the likes of me.

Sigh. I had plans for those $150, but I suppose the economy did need a little reinvigorating.

Please pardon me if posts in the immediate future are picture-free. (Assuming I can still download pictures already taken off the camera, I should at least be able to post that light box tutorial I told you about.)

In the meantime, I'm going to go water my stupid basket.