The saddest thing about Christmas is that it takes weeks of planning and hours of preparation work and then poof - it's over before you know it, albeit in a blaze of glory.
Anybody else feeling the post 25th slump? The space between the end of Christmas and the beginning of the New Year is always a slightly strange one for me. Time to pause, regroup and make plans for the future. You know how we like our plans round here!
Feels like we're entering the home stretch now. A little bit of wrapping to indulge in, some last minute distribution and the big day will be here.
In a small bowl, combine flour, 1/2 c. cocoa powder, and salt. Set aside.
Beat butter and brown sugar in a large bowl with an electric mixer on medium speed until well combined. Add egg and vanilla and beat well. Add flour mixture, 1/3 at a time, beating on low speed until combined. Divide dough in half and wrap in plastic wrap and chill for 2 to 24 hours or until dough is easy to handle.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Remove one dough portion from refrigerator; keep remaining dough portion refrigerated. Divide the dough into 12 equal portions. Sprinkle work surface with sifted cocoa powder, repeating as needed. Roll each portion of dough into a 9 inch long rope on prepared surface. Twist into a pretzel shape and place on a cookie sheet, 1 inch apart.
Bake for 12 to 14 minutes or until just firm. Cool on the cookie sheet on a wire rack for one minute, and then transfer to to the wire rack to cool completely. Repeat this process with the remaining dough.
Johnny's preschool nativity was yesterday. I'd show you photos, but they all look like this (he's the snowflake on the far left). 
The parental paparazzi were out in force snapping away in the non existent light trying to capture something. Sometimes I think it's better to forget the camera and be in the moment. The only in focus photo I achieved was the box of tissues thoughtfully provided by the nursery.
I helped myself, because I knew I'd need them. I cry at all Nativities, even those that don't involve any offspring of mine. Just show me a wonky tinsel halo and I'm off.
Gorgeous sunrises get me in the same way. Something about innocence and new beginnings I think. If I were Megan, I would be able to find something profound to say. But I'm not.
Happy weekend people.
Raymond Brigg's 'Father Christmas' has a lot to answer for.
It's Christmas here this Sunday. My in-laws arrive for their own personalized celebration and so all decorating deadlines are pushed forward by 10 days. Normally this would not be a problem. Hubby usually starts emptying the loft of all things festive on December 1st and begging shamelessly for me to put it all up. I agreed to do it this weekend, if they helped me clear up the house first (you may call it bribery, I call it incentive).
They whizzed around and soon all was ship-shape, so off the menfolk went to pick a tree.
The selection of our tree seems to appeal to some cave man instinct within them. They just love it, in the same way they hate almost all other forms of shopping. And without me grumbling away as the voice of reason, they get away with buying something that is really much too large for our hallway and has to be manoeuvred into the house in a kind of bizarre tribute to an episode of Monster Moves. Trees, Televisions, Trucks - bigger is always better in blokeworld. 
But our favourite tree guy was SOLD OUT. On December 9th?? We are on a tree waiting list. I kid you not. Which means my new decorations are still homeless and my old friends still in boxes.
But on the plus side, I did get the marshmallows scraped off the baking trays and packaged up for Johnny's Montessori teachers.
And my Magimix is still functioning, although the whisk attachment will never be the same. But hey, it's all blog-fodder. Which is my new Zen approach for dealing with disaster and disappointment.
As much as I would love to claim 'being super-organized' as one of my Holiday Traditions, I feel it might be stretching the truth somewhat.
But I did manage to get my parcel for the Holiday Traditions Exchange posted off to Eren today.
Recently, I watched a documentary series called ' The Mummy Diaries'. It followed 5 families, where mothers had been diagnosed with forms of incurable cancer. As they struggled to prepare their children for the loss of a parent, the women were encouraged to write a Mummy Manual, covering all the details of domestic trivia which would be useful to their families in the future.
As you can imagine, it was harrowing viewing, but it did bring home to me how truly important our little rituals are to out families and how special a Mother's role as their caretaker can be.
So Eren, I hope you don't mind, but when I sent off your parcel, I made a copy of our Christmas Traditions for here too. Because some of them are silly and may make you chuckle, but to us, they are priceless.
Things are beginning to feel decidedly end-of-year-ish round here. There's something about the last few days of November that sends me into a flurry of nesting. Suppose it is probably linked to the short days, hunkering down for winter and trying to impose order on the house before the relative anarchy* of the Festive Season.
*I mean anarchy, relative to real life, not anarchy of my relatives, who are, on the whole, fairly well behaved.**
So my cupboards have been treated to some new hooks
to hang our winter woollies on.
Our finances have been squared away (yes, those are credit card slips - guess we hadn't reconciled them in a while).
And I have the most gorgeous calendar (from Sarah) ready to track the passing of the new year.
We're all set, let the festivities commence.
It's been a while since I carved a rubber stamp - I forgot how fun and quick a process it is. The only thing is, I didn't really intend to make Santa look like a wino. Although with HIS to-do list, He'd be forgiven for hitting the bottle at this time of year.
If you want to have a go, here is the tutorial which got me started.
Perhaps I'd better have a cup of tea and re-group. This is my new seasonal favourite - even the box is uplifting.
My photos look pants today - sorry, its just so dark and wet and miserable. Natural light? Chance would be a fine thing.
*****Edited to add some important painting info*****
Christmas Fair time rolls round again - next Saturday I'll be up to my eyeballs in some kind of crafty endeavour with a zillion clamouring primary schoolers. Thought we'd have a go at salt dough Christmas ornaments. But a trial run with my resident assistants seemed to be in order.
Recipe: 2 parts flour to 1 part salt. Mix in some warm water to form a dough. Knead for 10 minutes until nice and smooth.
I had anticipated some freehand modelling, but it's harder to do than I had thought. Not sure the under 10 crowd would be too impressed, but my testers perked up when we broke out the Christmassy cutters. My inability to see a cute cutter without wanting buying it evidently has it's up sides!
I have a whole batch drying, so the punters on Saturday can paint one ready formed ornament and model one of their own to dry and decorate at home.
But I'm going to need a vat of hand cream afterwards, because a couple of hours dealing with desiccating effects of the dough has left me with lizard hands. Ick.
*** A couple of folks asked about painting these. I had planned to use Acrylics, but BIG word of warning - they don't work very well. I found out (luckily the night before the fair) that tempera/poster paints work much much better. Apologies for misleading you (and for raiding my boys' paint box)*****
With my big ball of string I can do anything, 
anything, anything, anything at all. 
Christmas cards in progress.
Life this week has been a bit like wading through treacle. The Dinosaur School (which goes on for the next 12 weeks) was a huge hit with Mark. Well pitched with lots of adult attention and activities he really enjoyed. He's looking forward to his session next Monday.
I can't say the same about the parents' group. I found it very difficult, sitting and sharing thoughts with people who are struggling with violent family members or getting the next meal on the table. It was heartbreaking and energy sapping and I dearly wish I didn't have to go back.
Reality is uncomfortable to face sometimes and the fact that I would rather not confront these people's realities makes me feel guilty. And over privileged.
Is it just me, or are all these 'Handmade for the holidays' tutorials, lists and gorgeous finished items stressing anyone else out? Don't get me wrong, I love them, I'm inspired by them but I'm breaking out into a cold sweat.
I'm going to have to sit down and bite the bullet of a serious 'to do' list. Though I have done the little gifts for Mark's teachers. We decided on coasters for their breaktime cuppa.
So Mark drew a design for each of them.
We scanned it and printed it out on the computer in mirror image. Then it was easy to trace over it with a heat set embroidery transfer pencil (amending the odd spelling hiccup and too-tricky-to-sew design element) and transfer it to a piece of linen.
The idea was for Mark to do a bit of the sewing, but I was having too much fun with the red linen thread to share.
And then we used Amy's instructions from 'Bend the Rules Sewing' to turn them into coasters.
Hopefully they will prevent mug mix-ups at morning break. And at least one item on the list has a tick next to it!
