1. Place a small piece of double-sided tape between bottom “seams” of the java jacket. Press together. Now you have a flat “pocket.”

2. Place another piece of double-sided tape on the back of java jacket “pocket,” and press into birthday card.

3. Place coffee gift card in pocket. (If card slides around, use a tiny piece of double-sided tape on back of gift card to keep in place)

4. Gift your happy, caffeinated, amazed friend.

And you didn’t think you were crafty. Feel like getting crazy? Like using a hole punch? Try the pretty-pretty version.

Punch two holes in top of java jacket. Pull ribbon through. Tie bow. Pretty!

Sparkly version? Use decorative stick-on gems.

And there we have it. A no-craft craft that reuses, reduces, recycles, and keeps your caffeinated friends happy.

Why would I bother doing this? For what it’s worth, I support our local coffee shops and drink many a cappuccino there. But I like that frothy Starbucks froth, and enjoy it on occasion. Now and then.

It’s not like I have a problem or anything.

On receipts and memos and envelopes, I sketched centerpiece ideas: dog houses from boxes, with dog photos on sticks, and paw prints, and boingy silver things and metallic shreds. All the ideas seemed to require mass materials – styrofroam blocks, cardboard boxes, spray paints, photographs, disco balls. About two weeks before the party, we thought we had a winner. Me, Greg, and our friend Korrin – an OCD crafter and all-around good sport – huddled at the third floor craft table, each trying to make a prototype work. But they would not work; the boxes were too big, the paper too thin, sticks toppled off. Korrin got a headache, and left. Greg saw something in my eye he’d seen before, and left. Alone at midnight and surrounded by crumpled silver shreds, I had a short but weepy pity party, followed by a hearty round of why-the-hell-am-I-doing-this. Still, I’d made tea and the house was quiet, so I sat down fresh at the table, switched on the HBO show “In Treatment,” and started doodling again. By now I hated the failed ideas – so tacky, overblown, “regular.” Why did we need so much stuff? Could we create something but not take anything home? Forty-five soothing, Gabriel Byrne-filled minutes later, an answer:

We would build a small tower of items from the Lawrence Humane Society’s wish list – pedestrian stuff like paper towels and dog food, but exactly right for Josie, who volunteers there, and reusable to its core. Applying wedding cake logic, I sprayed cardboard cake rounds silver, and used them to separate and stabilize layers. The paper towels were bound, cake-style, with paper and ribbon. We could donate the towel rolls and dog food, recycle the paper and cake boards, and reuse all the ribbons. Only the balloon toppers were a one-night stand – but they were lovely.

Whether you’re throwing a big event or a cozy party, I urge you to try reuse/recycle decorations. Our guests appreciated both their funky “found-art” looks and the care behind them. Plus, you don’t need to be an artist or a serious crafter to pull it off. Can we apply this idea to different events? Here’s a few to start:

Child’s birthday party: even for a small party at home, decorate with short stacks of give-able items, like toy trucks for a truck theme, stuffed animals, etc. Donate to a local homeless shelter, hospital, or social service group.

Garden party: make the stacks from terra cotta pots, seed packets and small plants. All can be given to guests for planting, or donated to a local community garden.

Pizza party: (Josie’s idea!) Use disposable pizza pans to separate “layers,” and stack with flour bags, cans of tomatoes or sauce, onions or canned olives. Top with fresh tomatoes. Donate all to a local shelter that cooks and serves hot meals.

Your ideas? Share them below and craft away.

“The Center of Everything?” The post title references a well-known Lawrence writer who, rather than mess with centerpieces, just produces great books.

If you do it yourself, no one ever has to know how crazy you really are.

Here is a set of cubbyholes in the old, soon-to-be-vacated house. We had it built years ago to store our seemingly endless and possibly reproducing rolls of wrapping paper, and bubble wrap, and poster board, and a few dozen other kinds of paper.

It’s a lot of paper. It’s worth noting that before we started “The Purge” in anticipation of moving, there was something like quadruple the paper you see here. It was like the holy grail of Hallmark overstocks.

Now, here is a spanking new cabinet on the third floor at the new old house.

What? Doesn’t everyone try to duplicate things everywhere they go?

Anyway, if I’d had enough skills courage or luck to build such a thing myself, I wouldn’t have been forced to endure an encounter like this:

Carpenter: So, this thing is going to hold what again?

Marilyn: Um…wrapping paper. Rolls of paper.

Carpenter: Wrapping paper.

Marilyn: Yes. A lot of it.

Carpenter: According to your husband’s drawing, each one gets its own spot.

Marilyn: Well, no, each one doesn’t get their own spot, exactly…uh…but they do get divided, you know.

Carpenter: Divided?

Marilyn: Oh, yes…you know, florals, stripes…um, holidays…

Carpenter: (staring)

Marilyn: …abstract prints, polka dots, funny dogs…

Carpenter: Um…that’s a lot of storage there. Are you sure?

Marilyn: Well, of course there’s bubble wrap, too!

The moral? Don’t tell anyone what stuff you save and where you stuff it. Learn to build things when you’re young. I’m convinced that if you can use a hammer and nails, all your quirks will stay where they belong: just between you and your built-ins.