Sometimes I like to imagine that I’m super good at things. Magazine things. Scrapbooking things. Maybe sewing things. I roam the aisles of the craft store and want to bury my hands in the stickers and buttons and always have this moments of, “I could do this. I could make things.”
Lightning strikes and then I go home and try to make some DIY modpodge, which is basically just glue and water, while scowling at my phone, wondering why it’s not coming out like this post I just found on Pinterest.
I like baskets and all those pretty wreathes and think about canning and I’m usually failing, but always trying. Leafing through those damned Southern Living magazines growing up really did a number on me.
I did the thing again, but this time with watermelon. We bought a huge one and I was eyeing all the juice thinking, “Look at it. There’s got to be something you can do with that. Maybe watermelon jelly? That’s a thing, right?”
I mean, I don’t know.
I looked at the gutted watermelon and around my kitchen and figured I had stuff and could totally do the thing. So, I did what I always do at this point. I go on Pinterest.
Turns out you need way more stuff that I didn’t have in my pantry to make watermelon jelly. (Also: Watermelon jelly IS totally a thing.)
I moved on from my old southern lady dreams shot through an Instagram filter of making my own cool jelly and giving it to my neighbors I have yet to meet three years later in adorable mason jars. Okay, so no jelly, but I could make some sort of watermelon juice? Like a drink? A summery fun cocktail thing.
So, again I searched through pins and found this watermelon refresher recipe. The pictures were adorable and summertime sweet. And best of all, it sounded easy.
It was almost…too easy.
I basically made watered down watermelon.
I went from Pinterest-fueled dreams of jelly in adorable jars to compromising and shifting my fantasies to a summertime refreshment and came out with watered down watermelon.
Whatever. The kids drank it. And you just wait. I’m gonna make some weird jelly one day, put it in a cute jar, and then awkwardly offer it to my neighbors.