In the last 24 hours I have come up with the greatest hand made Christmas present for a specific person (I made my coworker cry when I told her what I was planning. It’s that good), I made and successfully canned my very first batch of strawberry jam, and I received the Amy Grant Christmas Album on vinyl as the big reveal gift from my Secret Santa who turned out to be none other than Kari. She kind of gave herself away with the first gift of a Diet Coke. Few people at work know my love of Diet Coke. She does.
It’s been a helluva day.
Meanwhile, my house looks like drunken, cracked out Christmas elves have been furiously at work. The ironing board has taken up permanent residence in the living room. There bits of red and green ribbon strewn about and red and green sharpies are underfoot. There is embroidery floss and yarn and piles of fabric everywhere. I keep forgetting then remembering things to do (must not forget gingerbread cake for Molly to be ready Monday-ACK! Need bottle of wine for work Secret Santa-DANG IT! WINDMILL COOKIES NEED TO BE MADE!) and am constantly making lists and losing them. I keep making trips to stores because I keep coming up with things I need that I don’t realize I need until I’m about to start a project.
I say it every year: next year I will start earlier.
Though in my defense, when inspiration strikes and it’s only a week out you just gotta get her done. One cannot force the perfect hand made gift. The perfect hand made gift happens.
Tonight: work, make another list I will inevitably lose, go home and try to attach a headboard to the bed, pack up the boxes to be shipped to VT, and keep working on what shall henceforth be referred to as the Perfect Gift.
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