WHEN I WAS 12, MY SISTER STEPHANIE AND I WENT TO VISIT OUR RELATIVES IN KENTUCKY. WE STAYED WITH OUR AUNT EILEEN AND HER FAMILY. IT WAS THE LATE 70'S AND AUNT EILEEN WAS A VERY CRAFTY LADY. SHE COULD DO ALL KINDS OF CREATIVE THINGS, AND HER LATEST PROJECT WAS MACRAMÉ.

 I HAD A LOT OF FUN LEARNING TO MACRAMÉ IN AUNT EILEEN'S GARAGE THAT SUMMER. WE MADE PLANT HANGERS AND OWLS.

EVEN WHEN WE RETURNED HOME TO FLORIDA, I CONTINUED TO MACRAMÉ.

I MACRAMÉD CONSTANTLY.

I EVEN EXPERIMENTED WITH MY OWN INNOVATIVE TECHNIQUES, LIKE DYEING OR BLEACHING THE CORD TO ACHIEVE UNUSUALLY COLORED PLANT HANGERS AND OWLS. I WAS ALWAYS ON THE LOOKOUT FOR BEADS AND METAL RINGS TO USE IN MY WORK.

I WAS WORKING ON AN OWL THAT I WAS ESPECIALLY PROUD OF WHEN IT OCCURRED TO ME THAT THE CORD WAS MUCH TOO FRAYED AND FRINGED AND NEEDED TO BE CLEANED UP A BIT. I DECIDED TO TRY ANOTHER INNOVATION, WHICH WAS TO BURN OFF THE FRINGES WITH A LIGHTED MATCH. I LIT A MATCH, AND TOUCHED IT TO THE FRAYED AREA ON THE OWL, WHICH WAS HANGING ON MY WALL AT THE TIME. POOF! THE OWL WENT UP IN FLAMES.

I PANICKED AND TRIED TO PAT OUT THE FIRE WITH MY HANDS BUT THE BRITTLE, DRY MACRAMÉ CORD WAS FULLY ABLAZE WITHIN A FEW SECONDS. ALL I COULD DO WAS STAND THERE AND SCREAM FOR HELP. THE OWL WAS NOW A FIREBALL WHICH WAS SCORCHING MY WALL AND DROPPING CINDERS ONTO THE CARPET.

MY SISTER WAS THE FIRST TO ARRIVE ON THE SCENE. SHE RAN INTO MY BEDROOM CLUTCHING A 3OZ DIXIE CUP OF WATER FROM THE BATHROOM SINK. FROM THE DOORWAY, ACROSS THE ROOM, SHE FLUNG THE CUP AT THE MACRAMÉ INFERNO.

NEEDLESS TO SAY, IT CONTINUED TO BURN, AND, JOINED BY MY SISTER NOW, I CONTINUED TO YELL FOR HELP

MOMENTS LATER, MOM STEPPED IN AND SAVED THE DAY.

MOM GRABBED THE OWL, WHICH BY NOW HAD FALLEN TO THE FLOOR, AND SHE HEADED FOR THE KITCHEN. I WILL NEVER FORGET THE HORRIFIED AMAZEMENT I FELT AS I WATCHED MY OWN MOTHER CLUTCHING THAT FLAMING, SMOKING OWL WITH HER BARE HANDS. SHE JUST SNATCHED IT UP AND RAN WHILE I STOOD THERE, STILL HOWLING FOR SOME REASON.

I STOPPED PANICKING AND WENT IN THE KITCHEN TO SEE WHAT HAD HAPPENED. MOM HAD THROWN THE OWL IN THE KITCHEN SINK AND DOUSED THE FLAMES. I LOOKED AT THE GRISLY, CHARRED REMAINS OF MY OWL FLOATING THERE IN THE SINK. THE EYES, WHICH WERE BIG WOODEN RINGS WITH BEADS IN THEM, WERE ESPECIALLY HORRIFIC, BURNED AS THEY WERE. I FELT LIKE SUCH AN IDIOT. MY MOM DIDN'T EVEN NEED TO TELL ME WHAT A STUPID, MORONIC THING I HAD DONE, BUT SHE TOLD ME ANYWAY.

THAT WAS THE LAST OWL. IN FACT, I DIDN'T MACRAME AGAIN FOR THE NEXT 15 YEARS OR SO. THEN, ONE CRISP SPRING DAY IN 1992, I DECIDED TO GET BACK ON THE HORSE THAT THREW ME. I INVITED A BUNCH OF MY FRIENDS OVER, BOUGHT SOME CORD, BEADS AND A PATTERN BOOK, AND WE SPENT A FUN DAY MAKING MACRAME PLANT HANGERS. I MADE 3 OF THEM IN ONE DAY, AND THEY TURNED OUT GREAT. I PROUDLY HUNG MY 3 NEW PLANT HANGERS ON MY FRONT PORCH, WITH NICE PLANTS IN EACH OF THEM. THEN, THE NEXT DAY, SOMEBODY STOLE ALL 3 HANGERS. I GAVE UP. NO MORE MACRAME FOR ME, EVER. IT'S JUST NOT WORTH IT.