When it comes to posting, once I go past the one week mark, it gets harder and harder to start up again. I think it’s because there are too many things fighting for attention in my head (such as the posts that are being published; projects which aren’t being shared; rants and complaints bottled up until they’re no longer relevant), which becomes immobilizing.
Ah, but today, I’m playing catch-up in a dozen other areas, so why not here, too? Why not, indeed. So, for the most part, my hands have been too busy stitching or wielding the ear thermometer [which is no longer holstered for every-30-second readings, thank you very much. I was almost to the intervention stage with that thing.] to type. Not to suggest that I haven’t been spending a healthy amount of time staring at the screen, but you know. That’s totally different.
As I was telling my friends last night, my mental to-do list of handmade Christmas gifts was getting shorter by the hour as I sat in the pediatrician’s office last week. (We logged in many hours over the course of three days, which – thank you, God! – turned out to be for basically nothing. Never have I been so happy to have wasted my time!) I could actually visualize the pen crossing off this gift, and oh yes that one, because there are only so many hours between now and the big day, and I refuse to be all screechy and crazy come the 23rd.
Well, that’s my goal. I make no promises, but at the very least it won’t be because of the gifts or lack thereof.
Still, I did manage to finish our “stockings”:
They’re basically slightly enlarged Kidlets, with a reverse appliqued patch of my favorite Figgy Pudding fabrics in lieu of the pocket.
The Boy was especially excited to see that is had been hung with care. He’s a regular Tiny Tim, that one; it’s very fun to cater to someone so festive.
And a tip of my hat must also go to Jacqui, for sparking the idea of using this bag for holding Christmas treats. I can’t put my finger on the post, but she made the coolest gift set and packed it into a beautiful quilted Kidlet. I filed that idea away, and actually remembered it — bonus!
So the cobbler’s children have their shoes, so to speak, and I even finished the stockings my friend commissioned. (More on that later.) It’s truly is a season of miracles!