I’m not on Pinterest, mostly because I don’t have a reliable sense of moderation.
I love beautiful things, quirky things, creative things, fun things, DIY things, innovative things, retro things, thrifty things, unexpected things, thoughtful things, crafty things, contemplative things, bookish things, encouraging things, all kinds of things.
Love-of-many-things + inherent-lack-of-moderation = Self-Imposed Pinterest Prohibition.
But that doesn’t mean I don’t pin. I’m not legalistic that way. In fact, I’ve been pinning (actually) long before Pinning (virtually) came into vogue – with actual, not virtual pins. The wooden kind. For clothes. Maybe you’ve heard of them.
They’re perfect for pinning that tiny homemade Guatemalan doll onto the kitchen curtains.
Or for pinning a cardinal’s feather onto the edge of a robin’s nest that graces an end table with its presence.
Or for pinning a quirky ornament onto the quirky tree branch in the quirky pot in the corner of the living room.
Or for pinning old family photos to the clothesline (used for Christmas stockings during the holiday season) strung across the mantle.
Or for pinning stamps and receipts and notes and other important things to the front of bookshelves.
Or for pinning a lovely, wondrous, magical dedication page (torn long ago from an unknown book and saved in a drawer because, well, it’s so lovely, wondrous, and magical) onto a tree branch in the backyard where perhaps the wildlife will appreciate it.
Or for pinning necklaces onto a flimsy, useless-for-towels towel rack.
Or for pinning the recently opened bag of cinnamon-and-sugar pita chips (which is rarely done because, let’s be real, these chips tend to be consumed in a single sitting even though, if one serving equals one sitting, the bag should last eight times longer).
(And yes, that is a box of Red River hot cereal lurking in the background.)
Clothespin pinning may not be as fancy or flashy or fast as the other kind of Pinning, but it has a charm all its own, for this kind of pinning extends beyond what one pins to how and where one pins. In that sense, the possibilities are endless. The pins, however, are not, and that’s good news for a person who lacks her own moderation.