These Roses, by Another Name, are Plastic Spoons

CEDAR RAPIDS - The golden candle flame licks at the rose-colored plastic spoon under the watchful eye of Carl Ohrt as he performs his magic, transforming four dozen simple spoons into a life-size rose.

"You get people who pick them up," Carl says, "and look at ‘em and look at ‘em and can't tell what they're made of."

The roses are that intricate, that beautiful, that lifelike. And they're easy to "grow."

"He just does it when he watches TV," says his wife, Barb, who had seen someone make plastic roses after melting spoons in the oven to make them pliable.

"I'm crafty anyway," Carl says. "I sat down here over a winter with spoons and a candle and started playing with them."

Yellow spoons or pink. Purple or red. Light blue or dark blue. In less than three hours they come alive.

"It takes 48 spoons to make a rose," Carl says. "Then I take a handle and roll it up for the bud inside."

He buys quality spoons in bags of 24 for $2, so he has $4 invested in each rose. The garland he buys for stems and leaves adds another $1 per rose.

He has sold them for as much as $25.

"When are you going to get me some of those so I can sell them?" more than one friend has asked, to which Carl replies, "I'm not going to get into it that much."

At 69, Carl, a Mechanicsville native, has worked enough, from being an automobile mechanic to working bridge construction to trimming trees. He was with Rockwell-Collins for 30 years, first as a tree trimmer and then in maintenance. He retired a dozen years ago but has still spent the last 20 years performing maintenance on nights and weekends at Rockwell's child care center.

"My dad bought a welder when I was about 14," Carl recalls. "He said, ‘Use it.' So we did."

He builds useful items in his wood shop and owns a variety of old cars including the first and second ones he owned - a 1932 Chevy coupe when he was 14 and a 1954 Packard Clipper when he was 17.

So, melting one spoon at a time - too long and it'll burn; not long enough and it'll crack when he bends it - is pure relaxation. He heats each one just right to bend into a tight pattern or to stick to each other, the plastic being its own glue.

"You can't really make a bad one," he says, "because roses come in all different ways."

When friends recently celebrated a 50th anniversary, he collected the plastic spoons, washed them and transformed them into anniversary roses for a special gift.

"They were shocked," Carls says. Then, he adds with a laugh, "It's not unusual for me to collect spoons at a lot of places."

"I think they're beautiful," Barb says.

Carl smiles. "It's just fun."

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