Funny thing about having kids.  When they’re in their “rebellious” teen years, they can’t seem to wait to get out of the house and into their own space.  That happens, just like the move into adulthood says it’s supposed to.  The funny part is that although they leave, somehow their stuff seems to linger.  Then, as they mature and realize that they have stuff they want, but don’t want to cram it into their apartments, not only does their remaining stuff not leave the house, more stuff seems to come back.  “Can you hold on to this for me, Dad, I don’t have the room”, “I figured I’d just leave this here for awhile…”, and “I’ll take that back with me next time” become phrases that just make me smile because I know it’ll be months (if ever) before it’s re-patriated with it’s rightful owner.

Then, there’s the SPECIAL stuff!  This is stuff that’s not really useable for anything, but there is some form of sentimental attachment that elevates it into a special retention category.  When my third daughter got married, somehow several boxes of uber-precious wedding “stuff” got unloaded into my garage.  It wasn’t special enough to be taken to her house, but it was certainly too special to be thrown away.  It’s like purgatory for material goods.  One of those boxes was about 300 cinnamon scented pine cones that had been used for name place holders and decorations at the reception.  First the box of pinecones were just sitting there, waiting to be taken.  Then it got stacked with the others, so the boxes wouldn’t get lonely while they awaited their shuttle.  Then it got shuffled to a shelf to make room for another daughter’s “stuff”.  The pinecones were like a homeless person that never strayed from a two block radius.  When I finally got my daughter to admit that she had absolutely no use for them, then became free game to be either thrown away or repurposed.

Some of them I packed into a smaller box and kept, because I’ve learned that at some point (most likely around Christmas) there will be a call with the “do you still have all those pine cones?  I have a project I want to do…” request.  Some I threw away, but some I took to see if I could make a bowl out of them.  I figured I would give her the bowl to my daughter, if only to soften the blow of her discovering that I threw the rest of them away.

Below is the final effort.  I like the effect, but I don’t think I did the pour right when I added the resin and there are way too many air bubbles in the resin, even though I put it in the pressure pot.  Pinecones trap air.  Lesson learned.