My sisters and I used to laugh at my mother whenever she would say *I can make that.* This was usually her response to something one of us had paid too much money for – a sweater, a bag, a decorative object, whatever. Annoying? Perhaps, but not half as annoying as knowing that she was right. She could have made it, whatever it was. She was good that way. Once she got it into her mind that she was going to make something, she did it brilliantly, often times even better than the store bought version.