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Author Topic: Tis the season  (Read 737 times)
IrishAngel
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« on: September 14, 2003, 08:31:11 AM »

Ok I admit it, i`m not very crafty (that being a understatement) but i`m a pretty good copy cat  Wink so  I would love to read any of your homemade gift ideas for the upcoming season...meanwhile here`s some more laughs...


Those Easy to Make Gifts???
EDITOR: Hartson Dowd

I know it will soon be the season to be jolly --- but nothing unjollifies me quicker than the onslaught of magazines urging me to make my own gifts
I lose my good cheer faster than a runaway train as I leaf through page after page of gorgeous gifts, which, the article writers assure me, I can make in a few hours. “All you need,” says the bouncy caption, “is a few flips of felt, some glue, half a dozen empty egg cartons and a speck of your ingenuity?”
Lies, lies, all lies! I know because I tried making those ‘simple’ presents. I had no trouble finding the felt, the glue and the egg cartons. What I could not find was the speck of ingenuity. (What do those women who have tons of it make, I wonder?)
I shall never forget (tho’ I try) the Christmas of 1995, the first year of my retirement.
That was the year, I saw so many pictures of pleasing presents I could make at the drop of a Christmas cake, I began feeling guilty.
“I’m going to make a present for my best friend,” I told the family.
“Not again,” everyone groaned.
“I know what you’re all thinking….the mess I made of those ornaments I fashioned out of play dough. But this time it will be different, I’m wiser now and…..”
By the time everyone had finished laughing I was on my merry way to buy the felt.
They’d laugh to a different tune when I produced my country cottage made from egg cartons. I could hear the ecstatic ‘Ooohs’ and ‘Aaahs’ even now.
All weekend I worked in the kitchen. Not baking—but making. Making my Yuletide cottage.
I had sworn a solemn oath I would follow the instructions, to the letter, and not branch out on my own, as I often do with projects. This was to be my year of success.
For two days I snipped at felt, I painted cartons and stuck the stuff. Whenever I use glue I seem to stick at nothing to stick to everything (if you understand what I mean).
However, by the tenth try I got felt on the egg cartons—and on the table, and on the counter top, and in my hair.
No matter, I remained cheerful. This would be a cottage to remember. I hummed Silent Night as I started on Diagram A.
By the time I’d reached Diagram D, I had lost and found the scissors more times than you hear Jingle Bells on the radio. I basted, pinned and cut felt.
I also ran along to the store to buy more felt. I’d ruined the first piece. And the second. The kitchen looked like a gaggle of pre-schoolers had enjoyed a party in there!
I reached Diagram E at the same time I lost my scissors, my glue, my good humor and my mind. I took a good look at the finished product.
My Christmas cottage wouldn’t have attracted a self-respecting witch. It looked grotesque as a nightmare.
The magazine picture and MY creation had less in common than an incompatible marriage, I’ve wondered since then if those magazines make-it-yourselfers don’t nip out and buy their gifts, take a swift snapshot and say nothing.
I had promised the family I’d display my gift for all to see that evening and I am nothing if not courageous. I strode into the family room, bearing my cottage high, much like a bishop about to crown a queen.
“There,” I said. And waited. And waited.
“What d’ya know,” shouted one of the boys. “A whole bunch of egg cartons badly glued together,”
“I think it’s the lovliest…um…the lovliest…um…well…whatever it’s supposed to be. It’s the lovliest one I ever saw.
My daughter said that. Her intelligence has always been keen as a northwest wind. A wonderful girl, she is.
My husband, the fount of all knowledge, came in just then. He took one look at my easy-to-make masterpiece and said: “I’ve ASKED you time and time again not to go buying that stuff from the nursery school. It costs a fortune and looks downright rubbishy. What’s it supposed to be?”
I left them all and went to my bedroom for a good, long sulk. My mood went from bad to dreadful when I totaled the cost of my cottage. What with the three lots of felt, and the two bottles of glue, and the five eggs I’d dropped in my rush to get empty cartons…what with all that, plus the wear and tear on my car…the teak table on which I’d worked, and my shattered nerves…I figured I had spent half of my next year’s vacation money.
Now you’ll understand why I refuse, even to glance at any Merry-Make-It-Yourself magazine. I’m just fool enough to be tempted…
Mind you, I DID see a brochure for an ever-so-simple idea for moulding my very own Christmas candles in the shape of angels…I might just try those. I mean, what could go wrong with anything as easy as that?
To be on the safe side tho’, I’ll wish you a very merry Christmas—BEFORE I start melting my paraffin wax…

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Willowbirch
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He is risen! - He is risen indeed.


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« Reply #1 on: September 15, 2003, 07:05:43 AM »

 Grin Yeah! And have you seen those "homemade wonders" you can create with just a few "scraps of stuff you've got lying around anyway" - and those "scraps" are things that you can only find in craft stores for XXX amount of money??
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"Man dreams and desires; God broods, and wills, and quickens."
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