Sorry to have been so quiet lately. About a month ago it occurred to me that if I took my family's Christmas presents to my parents' house this Thanksgiving--presents for my parents and brothers and my brother's wives and children--then life would be a dream.
By delivering the presents in person instead of mailing them, I wouldn't have to find the right size box to pack them in and then have to write out two address labels for each box, one for the outside of the box and one for the inside of the box, in case the one on the outside of the box didn't stick for the whole trip (somehow the postal clerks would know to open the box to look for my inside of the box label; they're smart that way--this is my mom's theory, in any event).
I wouldn't have to mess around with the big packing tape dispenser, which I inevitably wound myself with sooner or later each Christmas season. And I wouldn't have to spend half of the Christmas holiday in line to mail the boxes. I wouldn't have to feel totally ripped off when I was told that in order to afford this mailing, I would not be able to send my children to college.
Taking the gifts is, you have to give it to me, a brilliant idea. And it's a once in a blue moon opportunity, since normally my family doesn't gather together at Thanksgiving. My parents live about ten hours from me, which is a long drive for a short visit. No, most Thanksgivings find us at my husband's Cousin Jane's, where we dine with his one thousand other cousins, paper plates in our laps, cutting our turkey with plastic utensils.
But this year, my brothers and I decided we needed to all meet up. It's been a couple of years since the whole family reunited, and some of us haven't met my youngest nephew, and that's not good. So off to Kentucky we all go, and I for one will be dragging my Christmas presents behind me.
Tomorrow, before I get the presents wrapped, I'm going to post pictures of the handbags I made my nieces (from Bend the Rules Sewing) and the sweater I knitted my mother. No, no ... let me rephrase that. The Sweater I Knit My Mother Where the Sleeves Actually Work. Hallelujah, I finally got some damn sleeves in a sweater without making them look like poofy princessy things. The sweater looks very nice and normal. It came out a bit on the small side, but that's neither here nor there, nor even my problem. It's my mom's problem. My problem was making the sleeves fit and I did and now I am off the hook.
So, in any event, as you might guess, the last couple of weeks have been a little intense, arts and crafts and Christmas shopping-wise, but now all that's left is the wrapping. Or, to put a finer point on it, shoving presents in those cute little gift bags and artfully crumpling up some tissue paper so no one can peek inside of the little bags. A gift tag here, a gift tag there, and honey, I'm done.
If I don't get a chance to post my pictures before we hit the road, then I'll be back next week, and with any luck I'll have lots of good stories about Thanksgiving and how everyone drove each other crazy and how I revert to being eleven when I'm with my Family of Origin. Something to look forward to!
Under the Speading Chestnut Tree
5 hours ago