Boxes, the workhorse of the efficient move. I've spent so much of this year assembling boxes, packing boxes, just looking at boxes. Sadly, they are not that attractive. But you know who doesn't care that they aren't pretty? Who views each new box as an exciting land of adventure?
These guys! Boxes are a chance to escape the dull routine of windsowsill, couch, carpet; a place to play hide-and-seek with a brother; a castle that needs defending from invaders. Once my move from Philly was complete, I just didn't have the heart to take the boxes away from my little explorers, but I was also sick of staring at cardboard.
That's when a silly notion entered my head. With a half hour's work and an old pumpkin-carving knife, I turned four old boxes into this:
That night while shopping, we made a detour to Home Depot for bit of paint, and if my mom hadn't stopped me, I would have been outside, spray painting in the dark. Instead I woke up early (7:00 a.m.!) and got straight to work painting. While the paint dried, I crafted the shield, banner, and flags.
I was ridiculously pleased with it and I just couldn't stop giggling! It was the purest fun I'd had in a very long, very sad and lonely time. I didn't care if anyone liked it and I didn't make it for any reason other than my own amusement. If the cats chewed it to bits the next day, what did it matter?
This silly kitty castle acted as the catalyst I needed to get me making things again after an eight month dry spell, unleashing a tsunami of startitis. Within a day I began a half dozen other projects, glitter shoes, a knitted shawl, various Christmas gifts. I had my groove back.
All it took was a few cardboard boxes. My cats conquered a castle and I recaptured the simple joy of creation.