Novembers mean holidays and plotting.
Our family was way ahead of the curve. We’ve been doing homemade presents at Christmas long before it was the hipster or hip or whatever the thing is to do. And LONG before Pinterest. Which meant we had to figure it all out on our own.
I love the memories of figuring out exactly what to make and then working out how to do it. Bedroom doors that were open the rest of the year would start closing in November as we disappeared behind them with the glue gun or hid away with my mom’s sewing machine. It was an unspoken ruke that around this time of year you didn’t ask what someone was up to. I still love figuring out what to get for someone and how to make it happen (like the photo cube I wrote about yesterday).
I am grateful for parents who nurtured, encouraged, and celebrated our imagination and creativity. And I’m grateful that Brett, while he rarely knows exactly what it is I’m talking about or how something will turn out, gives me free reign to try it anyway. Things like monkeys and binary on our wedding invitations, making stockings, and turtle costumes among the things that I’ve finished, and the soda can caroler wreath I’m going to finish this year that I “made” him drink a whole lot of Mt. Dew for so I’d have supplies.
We all need more pompoms, wiggly eyes, and pipe cleaners in our lives.