I think I might have a problem. I think I’ve become a hobby whore.
Recently I started scrap-booking, no, I’m not 55, I saw a friend doing it and thought it looked cool. Turns out I had some spare time and nothing else on the calendar so thought ‘yea, this is great – let’s do this, people will definitely think I’m cool and crafty’.
So, away I went. Printing photos here, cutting shapes there, picking out paper, stickers, letters, books – you name it, I was doing it. I went hard for about a week and a half and, true to form, I haven’t looked at it since.
I bought two scrapbooks with the intent of completing one for myself and one as a gift. I haven’t even finished my one. Sigh.
I’ve left all the bits and bobs strewn across the dining table though, in the hope the guilt will eventually take over and I’ll start back up again. I have faith.
But it got me thinking about just how much of a freak I am.
In the past three years I have joined a book club (read at least one of those books but what I didn’t read I made up for in wine), been part of a craft group, started ballet, learnt Spanish (hola – that’s about as far as that goes), done personal training, attempted yoga, tried my hand at bike riding (more to come on this later), scrap-booking as mentioned and of course this blog.
I think it’s fair to say I need to do things all of the time. Just all of the time.
Lately I’ve been thinking about learning the piano and have been having dreams I become a famous water-colourist, so I feel these things need to be tended to.
I skyped my mum the other day to tell her about the scrap-booking situation and she’d just got back from Bikram yoga – and did I know what Bikram yoga was? I was like ‘when the hell did you start doing that?’ It was at this exact moment I realised I am my mother’s daughter. And so the cycle continues.
Funnily enough, I was named after Holly Hobbie (you know, the cute little red-haired doll) but for some reason I don’t think my name was meant to be quite so literal.
Never mind. I’m happy. I’m just not sure how long Mr Knees will put up with the state of the table before he cracks it and throws all my bits out. At least then I would have a reason to continue on with my grand piano plans.