It Was Colonel Mustard in the Ballroom with the Candlestick

What a wonderful feeling of accomplishment to put the final touches on a project. Everything has gone pretty much right up until the final point. And then, WHAM, spatulacakes.

The grout is the same color as the cat, the spatula melts into the pancakes. Or the tiniest nesting doll’s face is smudged with paint pen.

I’m pretty sure the difference between an artist and me is that final step. The flub that cannot be unflubbed. The eleventh hour blunder. That thin red line that separates something that could have been a source of pride from something that is a source of embarrassment. But is at least worthy of this blog.

Nevermind. Here is the unveiling of my latest mistake.

Miss Peacock bangs herself with the lead pipe and weeps, “Why did she give me so much mascara? She knows I’m going to blubber and smudge.”

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5 responses to “It Was Colonel Mustard in the Ballroom with the Candlestick

  1. They are adorable!

  2. Great you do much with little your creativity is awesome ! Great Job

  3. I’ve always thought of Mrs. Peacock as the sort of old lady who puts her nose in everyone’s business and wears too much makeup.

  4. I still love them. Ms. Peacock never needs to come out.

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