Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness throughout the world.

Additional Story for Christmas Contest – Hart Dowd

December 29, 2007

HUNDREDS of EASY-TO-MAKE GIFTS

Hart 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 Christmas gifts.

    I lose my good cheer faster than a runaway train as I leaf through page after glossy 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 ingenuity!”

    Lies, lies, all lies!  I know because I tried making a few of 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 0f 2002.

    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 my family.

    “Not again,” everyone groaned.

    “I know what you are all thinking…the mess I made of those ornaments I fashioned out of play dough.  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 the craft store to buy supplies.  They’d laugh 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 destined for the mantle piece at my friend Jim’s home; I had sworn a solemn oath I would follow the instructions 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 I 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 the 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 drove back to the store to buy more felt as I had ruined the first piece, and the second.  The kitchen looked like a gaggle of pre-schoolers had enjoyed a party in there!

    Every time I touched anything I stuck to it…I do not mean I kept on going…I mean I was glue from stem to slippers.

    I reached Diagram E at the same time I lost my scissors, my glue, my pins, my good humor and my mind; I stepped back and took a good look at my 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 magazine 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 king.

    “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 loveliest…um…the loveliest…um…well…

whatever it’s supposed to be, it’s the loveliest one I ever saw”.

    My daughter said that.  Her intelligence has always been keen as a northwest wind; a wonderful girl, she is.

    My wife, the fount of all knowledge, came in just then; she 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 office for a good, long sulk.  My mood went from bad to dreadful when I totalled 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 egg 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 on my next year’s vacation money.

    Now you’ll understand why I refuse, even to glance at any Merry-Make-it-Yourself magazine  as I’m just fool enough to be tempted…. 

    Mind you, I DID see a brochure in the library 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…….

Hartson S. Dowd

hsdowd@telus.net