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Crafty Fun Group, Democratic Republic of the (2025)

07/12/2025

My daughter Sophie stood in Target holding that $45 Ghibli tank top like it was made of gold. "Please Mom, everyone at school has anime stuff except me." At 48, working two jobs since the divorce, I had exactly $47 in my checking account until Friday. The electricity bill was already overdue.
That night I found her crying into her pillow. Not dramatic teenage tears - the quiet kind that break your heart. "I'm the only one who never has anything cool," she whispered. "Dad would have bought it." That stung worse than any lawyer's letter.
I dug out my old fabric markers from the closet, the ones from when I used to think I was crafty. Found a plain white tank in her drawer. My hands shook as I started drawing Totoro from memory. Then Jiji. Then Calcifer. Four hours later, surrounded by crumpled reference sketches I'd printed at the library, I had... something. It wasn't perfect. The perspective on Howl's castle was definitely wrong. But every character she loved was there.
I'd even sold my vintage sewing box on Tedooo app to buy better quality fabric paint, the kind that wouldn't wash out after one cycle. Found someone in my crafting group there who walked me through heat-setting techniques at 2 AM.
Sophie found it on her bed the next morning. She held it up, running her fingers over every wonky character, every imperfect star. Then she put it on and didn't take it off for three days straight. Posted a picture on Instagram: "My mom MADE this. Your mom could never."
Now she asks me to add new characters every few weeks. That castle still looks wrong, Ponyo is definitely more blob than fish. But last week her friend offered her $100 for it. Sophie looked at her like she was insane. "This is literally one of a kind. My mom's hands made every single line."
Sometimes the best gifts aren't perfect. They're just proof that someone loves you enough to try.

07/12/2025

My son stopped drawing in sixth grade. Completely. Just put his sketchbooks in a drawer and never touched them again.
Boys at school had been relentless—calling him names, asking why he was "doing girl stuff" instead of playing sports. He came home one day and threw all his colored pencils in the trash. I fished them out after he went to bed, but I didn't know how to fix what those kids had broken in him.
Then lockdown hit and he was just wandering around the house, lost. I'd been browsing craft groups and kept seeing posts from dads, grandfathers, teenage boys—all making art, sharing techniques, supporting each other. I showed him the Tedooo app one afternoon. "Just look," I said. "You're not the only one."
He spent hours scrolling through, reading comments from men talking about woodworking, painting, card-making. Guys his age posting drawings and getting encouragement instead of mockery. He didn't say much, just quietly asked for his old pencils back.
Started with one card for the seniors at the assisted living place near us. Then five. Then twenty. Now he's made over forty, each one hand-drawn with these beautiful landscapes and hopeful messages.
Last week a resident's daughter asked if he'd make a custom birthday card and offered to pay. He's set up a free shop on Tedooo now, taking requests. But more than the money, he's found something those bullies tried to steal—the belief that what he loves doing actually matters.

06/12/2025

The rental inspection notice arrived on a Tuesday. Seven days to fix everything wrong with this place or find somewhere else to live. My daughter looked at me with those big eyes that still believed I could fix anything, and I realized I had to try something crazy.
This porch was rotting, peeling, honestly embarrassing every time we walked across it. But instead of begging the landlord for repairs that would never come, I grabbed every can of porch paint I could afford and started sketching flowers. If we were going to lose this place anyway, at least we'd go out swinging.
Each bloom took hours to map out and paint. My back ached from being on my hands and knees for days, but watching my daughter's face light up as the colors spread across those old boards made every muscle cramp worth it. She'd come home from school and immediately run to see what new petals had appeared.
The painting process became our therapy after her dad left. Instead of sitting inside feeling sorry for ourselves, we were out here creating something beautiful together. I even started sharing progress photos in the DIY community on the Tedooo app, where other single moms were cheering me on and sharing their own budget makeover stories.
When the landlord came for inspection, he stood there staring for ten minutes. Then he asked if I'd be willing to stay another year and maybe paint the kitchen too. Sometimes when everything feels hopeless, the only choice left is to make something beautiful.

06/12/2025

Kelly Hamel
The Tedooo app win! Spray painted coffee containers to match decor and cut labels with my vinyl cutting machine

06/12/2025

My boyfriend looked at this grimy patio and said "just hire someone, you'll never get it clean enough" like I'm some helpless person who can't figure out a machine with an on/off switch.
I've been staring at this disgusting concrete for months, embarrassed every time we have people over because it looked like we'd given up on maintaining our home. The black stains and built-up grime made our beautiful stone furniture set look cheap, and I was tired of making excuses about why we couldn't eat outside or have friends over for barbecues. When I mentioned wanting to pressure wash it myself, his immediate response was to mansplain why I should leave it to "professionals" because apparently operating a power washer requires a special Y chromosome.
So naturally, I rented one the next day while he was at work. Four hours later, I'd transformed our outdoor space into something that actually looks like it belongs to adults who care about their home. The before and after photos are so dramatic that people in the home improvement groups on the Tedooo app keep asking if I used special cleaners or hired a crew. Nope, just pure stubbornness and a machine that literally anyone can operate.
When he came home and saw the results, he was genuinely shocked and kept asking what company I used. The look on his face when I told him I did it myself was worth every minute of being covered in dirty water and concrete dust.
Sometimes the most satisfying home improvements are the ones that prove you're more capable than people assume.

06/12/2025

The morning after the funeral, I couldn't bring myself to go into her craft room.
She had spent every evening in there for the past five years, sorting through tiny beads and making jewelry that she'd sell to people who became more like friends than customers. I'd hear her on video calls with other crafters, laughing about techniques or sharing stories about their grandkids. That room was her sanctuary, and now it felt like a shrine I wasn't ready to enter.
But three weeks later, sitting alone with my coffee, I realized I needed to do something with all those beads besides let them gather dust.
She always said the most beautiful things came from putting tiny pieces together, one at a time, with patience and love. So I started stringing them onto chicken wire, no real plan except to use every single bead she'd collected over the years.
Red ones from the necklace she never finished for our daughter. Blue ones she'd been saving for "something special." Hundreds of clear crystals that caught light just like her eyes used to when she was excited about a new project.
Her friends from the Tedooo app have been incredible through all this. That was her favorite place to browse and sell, where she spent hours in the crafting groups sharing tips and buying supplies from other makers. They've been sending messages about how much joy she brought to their community there, telling me stories I never knew about her kindness. How she'd mentor new jewelry makers, mail extra supplies to people who couldn't afford them, even organize group orders to help smaller sellers reach minimums.
Turns out she had this whole second life on Tedooo that I barely knew about. People calling her their "craft mom" and sharing photos of pieces they'd made using her tutorials.
Now I hang this where I sit every morning, watching the colors dance in the sunlight. It reminds me that even broken into a thousand pieces, something beautiful can still be whole. And maybe, if I try hard enough, I can learn to be as generous with my heart as she was with hers.

06/12/2025

Three years ago, I almost lost everything. Today, I'm sitting in my dream living room, crying happy tears.
I need to share this because honestly, I still can't believe it's real.
Three years ago, my wife walked out. Just like that. Left me with a mortgage I couldn't afford, a living room that screamed "bachelor pad meets yard sale," and absolutely no clue how to make anything feel like home again. I remember sitting on that old couch in the first picture, staring at those beige walls, thinking this is it. This is what rock bottom looks like.
The TV cabinet from Goodwill. The rug, my mom's leftover from 1987. Those throw pillows is literally stuffed with old t-shirts because I couldn't afford real ones. I was so broke I was eating ramen for dinner and crying into my coffee every morning.
But sometimes rock bottom becomes the solid foundation you need to rebuild your entire life.
I started small, like really small and I began making these little decorative pillows and wall hangings just to keep my hands busy, to stop myself from scrolling through his Instagram at 2am. At first, it was just therapy. Then my neighbor saw what I was making and asked if I'd sell her one. Then her friend wanted two. Before I knew it, I had this tiny little shop on the Tedooo app, selling handmade home decor to people who actually appreciated it.
The transformation didn't happen overnight. God, it took forever. Every paycheck, every small sale, every little bit went back into this house. I'd save up for months just to buy that stone for the fireplace. I found those built-ins on Facebook Marketplace and spent three weekends refinishing them myself, YouTube tutorials playing on repeat.
But here's the thing that gets me every time I walk into this room now... I did this. ME, the man who couldn't even hang a picture straight three years ago (yeah, I know it could sounds weird, but it is how it is). I designed this space, I chose every single piece, I made it happen.
And my store is thriving now. I've got regular customers who trust me to create beautiful things for their homes. Last month, I sold a custom wall hanging to a woman in California who said it was exactly what her heart needed. THAT'S what I live for now. And finally I feel that my wife is proud of me.

06/12/2025

My tour guide's tool for picking up littered bottles along the trail.

06/12/2025

I can't bring myself to donate my dad's shirts, but I also can't stand seeing them hang in his closet like ghosts.
It's been eight months since we lost him to cancer, and Mom still goes into his room every morning, just standing there staring at his clothes like he might walk through the door asking for his favorite blue checkered shirt. We both know we need to do something with his things, but neither of us has the heart to just give them away to strangers.
Then I had this idea. What if I could turn his shirts into something Mom could actually use every day? Something that would make her feel close to him instead of just sad?
I taught myself to sew using tutorials from the sewing community on the Tedooo app. The people there were so patient with my beginner questions, and when I shared what I was trying to do, they sent me patterns and tips with such kindness. They understood that this wasn't just about making aprons - it was about keeping Dad's memory alive in a way that brought comfort instead of pain.
The crazy thing is, I haven't even set up a shop on Tedooo yet, but after posting these photos, I already have four people asking if I can make memorial aprons from their loved ones' clothing. Apparently there are a lot of us out there who need a way to hold onto the people we've lost.
Mom doesn't know about these yet - I'm planning to surprise her on what would have been their 35th anniversary next week. I hope when she puts one on, she'll feel Dad's arms around her one more time

06/12/2025

Most kids want to be superheroes or princesses for Halloween, but my son begged to be Pat Sajak because game shows are the only thing that calm his anxiety.
While other moms were buying Disney costumes, I was up at midnight with a white umbrella and Sharpies, drawing Wheel of Fortune wedges because that's what makes sense in his beautiful, complicated brain. The other parents at school don't understand why my kid memorizes puzzle categories instead of playing tag. They give me those looks when he spins imaginary wheels during recess.
Found the idea for the umbrella wheel in a sensory-friendly costume group on Tedooo app where parents share solutions for kids who can't handle typical Halloween. Another mom there had made her daughter a Deal or No Deal briefcase because numbers were her safe space. We swap ideas for kids who need their special interests more than they need to be "normal."
When he saw the finished wheel and screamed with joy, every late night was worth it. He spent Halloween spinning that umbrella for every house, making homeowners guess letters before he'd take candy. Most were confused. Some were impatient. But a few played along, and watching him light up when someone yelled "I'd like to buy a vowel!" healed something in me.
My sister asked why I enable his "obsession." Because it's not an obsession, it's his joy. In a world that overwhelms him, Pat Sajak's calm voice and predictable letter-turning is his peace. So yes, I made a Wheel of Fortune costume. Yes, I hot-glued puzzle boards to a treat bag. Because when your kid finds something that makes the world less scary, you don't discourage it. You hand them a umbrella and help them spin.

06/12/2025

My recently acquired door did I do good? Lol

06/12/2025

I had just boarded the plane, ready for a leisurely flight. Settled into my seat, headphones on, embroidery hoop in hand, one of my favorite ways to spend long flights. My husband leaned over, curious as always, and asked what project I brought this time. I smiled and said, “Wedding monogram,” and just as I added “Can you pass me the needle?”, I felt it.
That unmistakable feeling of being watched.
I glanced up… and locked eyes with a tiny Chihuahua peeking through the seat in front of me. Ears high, eyes wide, perfectly still, just studying me like I might be part of some secret he was trying to decode. We stared at each other, frozen for a second, like two souls caught mid-thought.
And then... the smallest wag of his tail.
Not fear. Not confusion. Just a soft, quiet happiness.
His owner turned slightly and smiled. “It’s his first flight,” she said, running her fingers along his head. “I just adopted him. Found him outside a tailor shop that was closing down. The workers said he’d been around for weeks, they’d feed him, let him sleep near the door, but no one could take him home. So… I did.”
That was it. That moment cracked my chest wide open.
This wasn’t just a dog. He wasn’t just curious about a needle or my stitching. He was in transition, between being alone and being wanted. Between street corners and a soft bed. Between no one and someone.
And as I kept sewing, slowly, carefully, thread by thread, I realized this little piece I was working on wasn’t just for any random customer. It was for someone who found my store on the Tedooo app, someone celebrating love, a new beginning. Just like this dog. Just like this flight.
He watched me for a while longer. Maybe making sure I wasn’t dangerous.
Or maybe, just maybe… proud. Of the journey he was finally on.
Safe travels, little friend.
You’re finally going home.

Crafty Fun Group

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