She was amazed at all the stamps and paper and accessories I have, and kept apologizing for using my materials. I'm like, Are you kidding? Somebody should use it! I buy it because I think, Oh, that's cool, and then I'm not motivated to do anything with it once I get it home. So, now she has this idea that I should drag all my stuff over on a regular basis and she'll invite some people over to get all creative and I can charge them $5 or $10 or something for the use of my stuff. We'll see.
Oh, and like my mom, she wanted to know why I don't make packs of cards and sell them. I gave my stock answer (It's a hobby for when I feel like it; it's not a job.) and then I think I went off on some Calvin & Hobbes tangent about how you can't turn creativity on and off like a faucet, which involved retelling the series of strips where Calvin has to write a short story for class and so he time-travels and goofs around and Hobbes ends up writing the story and ...
I'm mangling it. It'd be much easier to violate copyright laws and post all the strips.
Anyhow, she came up with some really great cards — some to keep and some to give as gifts — and I sucked it up and made about two dozen holiday cards.
I used a stamp I found in the dollar bin at Archiver's. When my mom saw it, she wanted to know why the snowman is committing suicide (since he'll melt if it's warm) and why I would want to send that to people. I chose to ignore that incisive commentary and use it anyway, with an assortment of holiday papers from a paper stack I bought last year and never used, plus a snowflake stamp I've had for ages.
Next up: Writing, addressing, and mailing. At least I already bought the postage.
Now playing on iTunes: Harry Connick, Jr. - Winter Wonderland