Guess What I Found!

If you guessed ‘the pink crown your neighbor/art teacher had made for you’ then, you are correct! Here I am, feeling awesome in my crown, despite my hair being in a messy ponytail, and the air conditioning being out:

That’s the magic of a dress-up crown. Mrs. Binger, the woman that lived across the street from us when I was younger had a friend that custom made these awesome things. And she was pretty much my favorite person. She was a retired art teacher. She missed teaching, so when we moved in, she offered to teach  me and my sister for free. Once a week we would sit around and eat tea cookies and then, we would make things. You couldn’t possibly understand how awesome this was. We didn’t just draw stuff – although we did that too – we MADE stuff. Tambourines, puppets- not just puppets, but scenery for the puppets, we would paint using salt and leaves… It was glorious. Anything you can think of, Mrs. Binger had thought of it first.

Eventually my book-ish sister decided she no longer wanted to participate in art class. Looking back, she probably just didn’t want to take the same art class as a six year old, but at the time I thought she was just being a butt. Anyway, the art classes turned into me just going over to her house. Most of the time I would bake a loaf of bread as an accuse first. Come to think of it, that was my first job. She would give my five bucks every week for homemade bread. I know what you’re, thinking and no, I was not six and making bread. I was seven or eight at this point. Ha!

After exchanging the bread for the five dollars, I would stick around and we would do stuff. We wove bookmarks using paper plates in place of a loom, and she taught me how to make the best ice cream-less banana split ever. Sometimes we would just eat mini quiches and then go organize her art room. I freaking LOVED organizing her art room. Every Saturday for about a month, I would go to her house early in the morning, and would come home in time for dinner. That’s how messy that room was. That’s now the standard to which I now hold all messes. It was a glorious mess. Full of paintbrushes, beads, yarn, and shiny things. Every Saturday night I would come home with a shoebox or cigar box full of treasures. She didn’t smoke, they were vintage cigar boxes that she used to store things:

One of the best things about her, was that this filing system made perfect sense. Of course sticker and ribbon earrings and feathers went in a cigar box. What are sticker and ribbon earrings? I don’t know. I should have asked. I bet they are awesome.

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