I believe I am completely done with actual holiday shopping. I believe this because I have no money left. That's NO money left. Therefore, it is time to get down to the nitty-gritty of homemade gifts.
That's right, as in made at home! As in baked goods, candles in teacups, chocolate-dipped pretzels, ornaments made out of bread dough.
Every Advent begins with me swearing I will make all my gifts this year, and then I slowly come to my senses realizing that:
1. homemade gifts are not cheap. You have to buy ingredients and supplies!
2. You need some minimal talent/skill to make homemade gifts.
3. You need a great deal of uninterrupted time to make homemade gifts without losing your holiday spirit entirely.
Typically, it takes about one week for me to re-acquire these insights, and to abandon the idea of homemade gifts.
Then I spend, spend, spend. It starts off fairly reasonably, then escalates to a rushing orgy of spending, till what started off as exhileration turns to self-loathing. Did I really spend (I cannot bear to write the actual amount here) on stuff for which Santa (that spendthrift) will get all the credit?
Anyway, in the final week before Christmas, as I realize that I still need to provide many teacher, co-worker, neigbor gifts, I return in desperation to the homemade gift concept.
It's time.
What I WANT to make are exquisite candles in teacups. But that requires candle wicks and . . . well, teacups. And while on the day after Thanksgiving, I envisioned leisurely visits to thrift stores, the littles trailing dociley behind me, as I inspected and selected the most darling cups, I see clearly now the reality--were I to be so foolish as to venture into a thrift shop with even ONE of the young ones, cups would be crashing to the floor, I would be snapping, and the child whining. Besides, I don't know where to buy candle wicks.
So it's chocolate-covered pretzels again this year. Eat them and enjoy them, friends and family! Think of me as you nibble on them--visualize me daintily dipping each teeny little pretzel into chocolate, and painstakingly laying them on an unfortuantely limited quantity of baking grills. Visualize also the grabbing little hands of my "helpers". It is the thought that counts, pretzel-recievers. Also, the tradition.
It won't be all drudgery. We'll listen to Christmas music while we dip and decorate. Surely the children will soon lose interest, freeing me to churn out huge quantities of chocolate-covered pretzels in heavenly peace. And if not, well, 'tis the season.
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