One has already been wrapped and given. And while it was pretty tremendously cool (good job, me!) it became an epic fail when the recipient unintentionally melted it near the hot-air-spewing floor vent of a mini-van like 3 seconds after receiving it. I give you exhibit number one, the milk chocolate and butterscotch mustache lolly-filled inspirational coffee cup:
The cup says, "Write your own story" if you couldn't read it; I thought that was super cool. So cool, in fact, I really wanted to keep it for myself but that really wouldn't be very Christmasish of me, would it?
Oh God, the next project is so lame and turned out so painfully shiteous I don't know if I can bear to post a picture. It was undertaken in the name of love for my sweet little toddler who is OBSESSED with Yo Gabba Gabba. And since he gets a mom at home with him every day vs. a mom with a huge paycheck, he does not have a ton of 'Gabba schwag. Plus, I love the D.I.Y.ness of doing it yourself. Egads woman, spit it out! I tried to paint two modern-art-sort-of pictures of Brobee and Muno, his two favorite YGG characters. Tried. EPIC fail, dudes, as my teenager has informed me (while laughing and pointing). Gulp, ok, here's the pic. Please cover one eye and squint with the other whilst viewing so as not to sear the exposed cornea: Okay, never mind because for some reason I can't get the damn picture to post here so I'll have to try next time, I'm sorry.
So before Christmas I have to at least make some iced Star-Wars themed sugar cookies (I promise to post pics!) and some white chocolate mustache lollies (Santa's mustache? Hmmm). I wanted to make some wooden Star-Wars toys (an AT-AT Imperial Walker and R2D2 mainly) but since it requires the use of power tools that I haven't learned to use yet and every time I mention this to Matthew he gives me this sort of vacant, far-away look like he's trying to think of a scenario in which teaching me to use said power tools does not involve a trip to the ER, it doesn't look like that's going to happen. Sigh.
Okay also, I got the most beautiful wood at Lowe's for my project - it has these tiny little curly burl things all through it - and I don't think I can bear to cut it up. It would be like double homicide, once for killing the tree in the first place and again for defacing its silky, satin inner self, man. Like I can't justify ripping through those perfect tree guts with a saw just for my piddly project. I know, I know. Just imagine how exhausting it is to be me.
And don't even get me started on the sewing projects. My mother bought me a beautiful brand-new sewing machine for Christmas last year and there it sits, pristine in its box, mocking my no-skills-havin'-ass. Oy. Speaking of mom, when we visited for Thanksgiving, she gave us an entire crate of hand made jellies, jams and blueberry cardamom pancake syrup made from the tiniest hand-picked-by-her Michigan blueberries you've ever seen. And the thimble berry-peach preserves? Fuggedaboutit. How the hiz-ell do you compete with a woman who picks 50 gallons of berries herself, then whips them up into jam, jelly and sauce in her hell-hot summer kitchen, all while battling cancer, because she loves you so much? I want to slap my own face every time I slather a biscuit with her homemade generosity-in-a-jar. Again, Oy.
So. That's what I've been up to, more or less. I hope every body's Christmas craft projects turn out lovely and giveable. Merry Christmas. And may you all find the droids you're looking for.
~Mahalo for listening.
