I flunked home ec, got a c- in art class, and barely passed choir. I wasn't good at anything creative. No one in my family, aunts, uncles, even grandmother never ever did any crafty thing. It was rumored that my grandmother had a sewing machine, but if she did, I never saw it and I lived with her a lot until I was 9. Only my mom had some kind of talent. She was musical and could play accordion, piano and was a whiz on the organ. Unfortunately, neither my sister nor I inherited her talent. My college roommate taught me how to knit, I learned to crochet from a book, tried other crafts, but they always looked as if a 2 year old could have done better. Then one day I saw a Victorian crazy quilt on a decorating magazine cover. I was hooked, bought a book, fabric, a ruler, and scissors and proceeded to make the most awful quilt I've ever seen, but goodness, I was so proud of it. It graced our bed for many years (my sister still has hers--I don't blame her for not putting it on her bed, or if she did it was to keep warm and/or under the bedspread.)
Still hooked.