clay. (n) an unknown substance that is squishy.
Little did I know what I had done. Yes. I had bought modeling clay for my grandchildren many, many times. But, this was not ordinary modeling clay. This was magic clay. This was trans-formative clay. This was clay made from a secret recipe. This clay didn’t stick to things and didn’t stain fingers. This clay smelled like a scratch-and-sniff party and it came in a vast number of colors. More colors than anyone had ever thought of.
How was I to know?
I was a genius.
book: (n) things you never thought of.
Should I or shouldn’t I ?
A common question which, when acted out in various ways will have unpredictable outcomes. I decided that I should and so I did. Below is an example of one of three books I bought for the fun of making stuff out of magic clay.
Boy. I am glad that I did.
These books are great. I can imagine lots of geeky (meant as a compliment) people sitting around tables in the lunchroom at the “clay company” amid piles of clay in the latest colors trying to outdo each other with bursts of creativity and the result is “a book”. Actually, more than one book. I am a sucker for books and bought three. They are different. One went home with an especially talented clay management family but the other two are on my shelves.
Life is short. Buy the books. Forget the shoes.
overdoing it: (verb) going beyond what is normal.
My kitchen table seats eight. It is big and square. When I brought out the clay and everyone dove in to oooh and ahhh and grab at the colors I also brought out the roll of brown paper and the masking tape.
I said “wait” because there are seams in the table waiting to capture clay.
We covered the table.
It was Sunday afternoon. That is when it all began and Friday, when everyone packed up and started home is when it ended.
All creations went home in little boxes.
Really it lasted that long. We all agreed that we had never seen anything like it.
We blamed the clay so let’s talk about it in case you want to try it.
Ordered from Amazon. 36 packages per order. I overdid it, or so I originally thought and bought three packages of 36. It looked like I had bought a liquidation from a warehouse. I bought a little package of plastic tools which were, of course, recommended by Amazon and Amazon knows what people like. I prowled around and bought three funky books which turned out to be worth their weight in gold.
By Tuesday it was obvious that we were in trouble and would need more clay because every time someone walked by the kitchen table he or she glanced back and returned to sit down, flip through the pages of “a book” and make something new.
I went online and pushed the “buy again” button and waited for The Amazon Man to deliver two additional packages of 36-each magic clay right to my door. People took turns watching for the box. It came the next evening. We opened it immediately.
Will you look at these little elephants?
See what I mean about magic clay?
(One, little hint: There is only one package of black in each batch of 36. Save it for the eyes.)