Something crafty to look forward to

Handmade Holidays runs through the month of November.

The Christmas Stick (book review)

The Christmas Stick, by Tim J. Myers.  Illustrated by Necdet Yilmaz.  Published by Paraclete Press, November 2014.

What bad things could one say about a well-illustrated picture book that promotes low-tech, natural playthings for somewhat spoiled princes (and princesses)? Not many.

The prince (he's nameless) receives a lot of toys one Christmas that move by themselves, don't offer much scope for the imagination, and end up broken before too long. His grandmother, on the other hand, gives him a long stick, which (as you can guess) becomes his favourite plaything. In an interesting twist at the end, the prince finds a way to pass the gift on, having learned the intended lesson. Or maybe it wasn't a lesson. Maybe his grandmother just wanted him to have fun.

Taken on its own terms, The Christmas Stick is a cute story, and yes, it does have a message of simplicity (though nothing specifically about the Christian meaning of Christmas). But is it the princes (and princesses) themselves who need this message, or their parents and other lavish gift-givers? The fact that the prince never gets a name, for instance, creates a certain distance, makes him a bit less real; and the thought that the story might just be propaganda for fewer toys (and more wrapped-up sticks) might not go over well with some kids. The difficulty is not that we don't remember and acknowledge instances in our own lives when simple playthings won out; it's just that slightly defensive feeling that we, the parents, are getting a sermon here on the appeal of long sticks.

But maybe it wasn't intended that way.  Maybe the author just wanted us to have fun too. And in that case, I'd give this enough Christmas stars to pass it on to some little ones I know.

Please note that families who do not allow talk of wizards etc. will find a few references in this book offensive.

I was sent a complimentary copy of this book from the publishers, for review purposes, but  received no other compensation.

It's Advent Not Christmas, Day Eight: "Some?"

"Christmas isn't just about giving. It's about getting and about God's Son Emmanuel." ~~ Young Squirreling in Dewey's Treehouse, December 2005

Every family has its own "home words" and shortcuts.  One of ours is "some?"  It sprouted when the Squirrelings were little and would ask for "some?"  Meaning a polite "I don't know exactly what that is you have there, Daddy, but it sure looks good, so can I have some?"  Or, on occasion, "Gimme, gimme some or I'll have a meltdown!"  It also reminds Mama Squirrel of the story her own mother used to repeat on every family occasion involving pumpkin pie, of the time that Very Little Mama Squirrel's daddy was slicing her a small piece of pie, and when he turned away for a moment to find her a plate, she took the rest of it and left him the small slice.

Over the years, the use of that single word has morphed from an asking word into an offering.  Mr. Fixit, particularly, still proffers the plate of toast or whatever with the word "Some?"

It occurs to me that the late philosopher and teacher Dallas Willard might have found use for our word "Some," in his thinking on the Divine Conspiracy.  Think of the scenes you've seen on T.V., where someone says, "I'll have some of whatever they're having."  It's been used in every sense from the most vulgar to the most literal, and I hesitate even to describe it that way, but it's an image that's worked itself into our culture.  Is it possible to think of the Divine Conspiracy as an offering of "Some?"  God offers us "Some?"  Then we offer Some of What We're Having to those outside the circle?  I don't mean so much physical aid, although that's in there; I mean God's gift of Himself.  One word only.  An asking, or an offering.

It also occurs to me that when we're unsure of "our" gift of the Gospel being accepted or rejected by others, it may be because we think of it as "ours." C.S Lewis describes a small child who asks his father for sixpence to buy him a gift; the father of course is pleased with the gift, and, Lewis says, that's as it should be; but in terms of finances, it all came from the father to start with, right?  We make the gift and the giving too complicated.

Maybe all we ever need to offer, or to ask for, is "Some?"

Tips to keep your frugal food gifts from bombing

As you can see from one of last year's gift baskets, when we give food, we often give packaged treats rather than homemade: tea, coffee, apple butter, popcorn, chocolate, and things like pickled beets canned at a small vegetable market that only opens from spring through fall--so by Christmas, it's impossible to buy them. We like to be able to give an assortment of things, especially to family members who live alone and wouldn't really appreciate, say, a whole box of fudge.

But we have often given small homemade food gifts to friends, Sunday School teachers, and neighbors.  Some ideas we've tried (besides the obvious plates of cookies) are salad topper mixes (like trail mix except you sprinkle it on salads); Cider Beetles; homemade mixes for coffee and hot chocolate; peeled garlic cloves in a jar of honey; peeled and sliced ginger root in a jar of honey; herb mixes for salad dressing.  One year I made up bags of the dry ingredients for Beer Bread.  (I didn't include the beer.) We've given away jars of things we've canned ourselves: jam, apple butter, and, one year, pumpkin butter.  We have given (and received) special health-food items...those expensive natural sweeteners, organic nut butters, and other healthy-but-gourmet ingredients can make good (and still relatively frugal) gifts.  Ethnic groceries often have interesting possibilities too.

But not every food gift is a felicitous choice.  Here are a few tips, especially for giving homemade mixes, that may save time, embarrassment, and/or food waste.

1.  This should go without saying, but check carefully for allergies or other dietary requirements, especially if the gift is for someone you don't know well.  You don't want to be like Muffy's father, cheerfully bringing a ham to the (Jewish) Frenskys.

Even personal tastes and preferences can change from time to time. Several friends who used to be coffee drinkers now ask for herbal tea (one of those midlife things?), so I'm less likely to be making coffee mixes.

2.  Put best-before dates and storage instructions on mixes and baked goods.  Baking mixes that contain baking powder are said to lose quality after a certain time; brown sugar can also go lumpy and hard after awhile.  Also, please list the ingredients, if it's a mix:  see #1.  Surprises are not always welcome.

3.  Some homemade mixes come with baking or cooking directions that are too difficult for the recipients, require them to buy too many extra ingredients, or just make too much at once, like a salad dressing recipe that makes more than one person could eat in a month.  Look for instructions that give alternate amounts, or that suggest variations.  I have one soup mix recipe that calls for mixing the dry ingredients with sausage, onion, carrots, etc.; but I've made it up just with water or broth, and it's still pretty good.

4.  Some layers-in-a-jar ideas, like soup mixes, call for layering need-to-be-washed ingredients like beans, lentils, or brown rice directly with other ingredients.  If it's something that should be rinsed before cooking, then figure out an alternative, like putting the spices in a sandwich bag.

5.  Try not to give people things they already make themselves.  Somebody who makes a lot of jam may not appreciate a jar of yours--unless she gave all hers away as gifts.  So you never know.

BONUS UPDATE:  It's not Christmas yet, but I can post this here because my oldest won't see it--I'm pretty sure she's too busy studying for exams to be browsing through month-old blog posts.  So anyway...she asked me for a muffin pan to fill out some of her off-campus kitchen gear, and that was easy enough.  But I added some other things to make it a Coffee-and-a-Muffin Kit, and now it takes up the whole lid of a paper carton.  I made up four Ziploc bags full of dry ingredients for family-favourite muffins, plus cards with instructions for what else to add.  I added in a few sandwich-sized bags of chocolate chips, walnuts, cinnamon-plus-brown-sugar, and raisins.  There's also a small coffee can full of the Hillbilly Housewife's Vanilla Coffee Mix (figures, my university student is one of the few people left I can give coffee mix to), and a mug.  I'm not a fancy scrapbooker, but I managed to print out a label for the coffee, tags for the mixes, and a full-size label for the whole thing, using a photo I found online.  I tried to colour-co-ordinate the whole thing--mostly blues, blue for the tags, a blue coffee mug, and so on; and I found a big piece of clear basket wrap in our stash of recycled giftwrap.  In spite of the fact that it's sitting in the lid of a paper carton, I think it all looks pretty good.

P.S.  After I got the whole thing put together and then wrapped in a dollar-store plastic tablecloth (the only thing I could find that was big enough), I realized that I left out the package of walnuts.  So I'm going to wrap that up separately with a tag that says "oh, nuts."

Linked from Four Moms discuss Food for Gift Giving

Gift baskets and Christmas cheer at the Treehouse: photo post

Crocheted bells hung on the wall; Crayons added the angel.

Gift baskets for extended family members (who I hope aren't reading this before Christmas).  The baskets were picked up this week at the thrift store, along with most of the picks, pinecones, and other doodads.  The monkeys are handmade.

A bowlful of Christmas, to put on a table in the living room. The crystal bowl was a wedding gift. Mama Squirrel made the origami boxes from an old (thrifted) book of Christmas photos.  The ornaments and picks were all picked out of this week's thrift store boxful of stuff.

The four wooden apples on the stove came inside that red and green bucket that we used for one of the gift baskets. The brown angel box also came from the thrift store. The squirrel and acorn salt-and-peppers came from another thrift store several years ago--a gift for Mr. Fixit.

The dining room buffet, improved this week by finds from the thrift store--gold garland and ornaments, candle rings. The candle rings don't match but they're the same colours, so I'll live with that unless I can find something else.  Good Mousekeeping isn't keeping tabs here.

All photos by Mr. Fixit. Copyright 2011, Dewey's Treehouse.

Found at the thrift store: Mama Squirrel goes squirrelly with decorations and baskets

What did we bring home from the thrift store this week?

Quite a lot.  Some of it, I can't say, because it's almost Christmas.  Just say that I had my eyes open, looking out for certain peoples' particular reading interests.

And some of it, I can say, because it's almost Christmas. I earned a bit of pin money last week by sitting through a bunch of prototype commercials with four other ladies and discussing what we thought of them.  So I used some of that money to buy several nice baskets, and a whole boxful of trims, picks, bows and other holiday miscellany to dress up the baskets.  What we do with the baskets (most years) is fill them with food gifts and other small items, and those are our family gifts for a few of the relatives.

Mr. Fixit is going to take photos later today, so come on back and you can see what the filled baskets look like.

Funniest book I sorted yesterday:

Funny not because of the content, but because of the shape of the book.  If you can't see from the photo, the hardcover edition is a parallelogram.

Christmas bookshopping, ca. 1886 (vintage Good Housekeeping)

LOOKING AHEAD TO CHRISTMAS.

Some Hints And Helps Concerning Christmas Gifts.

"IN season" is the "sign-manual" before which many a door swings open, and a little forethought saves the futile knocking at many a portal, or, instead of a grating, reluctant opening, secures a magical movement of harmonious hinges. Christmas preparations, to be satisfactory, demand an early beginning. Left until the Christmas stir is in the air, and the Christmas shoppers are in the streets: till the days are shortest and coldest; till the nerves are tense and quivering with hurry and excitement; till the mind is confused with the sight of many beautiful things and tempting bargains; till our reckoning gets awry, and expenditures are sure to slip beyond the bounds of prudence, and we have to show for them, moreover, articles whose utility and fitness we more than doubt, giftmaking becomes a bugbear and a burden. With many of us) gifts must, in large measure, be bought with little savings, made at odd moments, or in the intervals of other tasks, and be determined, perhaps, by the little sacrifices or the labor of love we may find possible to allot to them.

A little careful, generous forethought, a judicious reckoning of what we can spend, and a thoughtful apportionment thereof, will add to the pleasure of giver and receiver, and leave some space, perhaps, at the blessed Christmas-tide for the fellowships, the recollections, the influences, of which gift and greeting are only accessions and reflections. The gifts planned beforehand, too, will be likely to be most valued after Christmas. We are more likely to take account of individual needs and preferences. I must confess to a liking for those gifts which supply some real want, which are more than bric-a-brac, which are meant not only to be admired and treasured, but to be used and enjoyed, to become some real part, however small, of the life and belongings of the one who receives them. Such gifts have a double preciousness, for they reveal the thoughtful love which, only, could have prompted them, and bespeak for it, on the part of the receiver, a grateful recognition and remembrance. Not all gifts can be such, perhaps, but the ideal gift will always be, like the love behind it,

"A simple, fireside thing,—

A thing to walk with, hand in hand,

Through the every-day-ness of this work-day world."

Christmas cards are a happy invention of some one, and they serve a gracious purpose, but many times the money they cost might buy something which would be more truly a delight than they. And it may be possible for deft fingers to fashion some dainty or durable article that shall better represent herself and better serve her friend's need.

Never, it seems to me, could one make choice of so many beautiful, expressive, serviceable tokens with but a little "siller in the purse," as now. The lovely little books of daily readings are the choicest of souvenirs. They come in all sizes and at all prices. As I write, there is at hand a late announcement of new books, and I especially note some new books with Scripture texts for one month (E. P. Dutton & Co.), for ten cents: "Sunshine for Life's Pathway," with daily readings, accompanied by poems by Miss Havergal and others, for one month, thirty-five cents; and in Cassell's "Chimes Series," uniquely bound, illustrated volumes, at fifty cents,—"Bible Chimes," "Daily Chimes," and "Old World Chimes," containing readings for every day in the month, and "Holy Chimes," being "thoughts in verse for every Sunday in the year," which last, it seems to me, would be an especially appropriate gift for those dear invalid friends, of whom doubtless we can all count one or two, whose Sabbaths are brightened by no song of choir or words of preacher, and whose sanctuary is home. "Helps by the Way," one dollar (D. Lothrop & Co.), will be a help and comfort evenday of the year to come. And there are many other books, to be had at the cost of a Christmas card, which would outlast and outweigh a score of such tokens. There are two or three of Mrs. Ewing's delightful stories,—"Jackanapes," "Daddy Darwin's Dovecote," and "The Story of a Short Life," which Roberts Brothers, of Boston, issue, with illustrations, and in comely, serviceable bindings at thirty-five cents each. The two books first named, by that English woman whose stories are so fast finding place beside our own best-loved household authors, are, perhaps, best adapted for children. That last mentioned can hardly fail to be full of interest and significance to that invalid friend. The three, bound together, with life of the author, comes at one dollar.

Of other costlier books there is little need to speak. These are specified because of their peculiar fitness for inexpensive gift-making, and the possibility of their commutation for gifts of far less worth and fitness. And what gifts do we give that are so likely to be treasured, so sure of a welcome, so certain to perpetuate the finest part of our friendships, stored with such pleasantness and helpfulness as some coveted or well-chosen volume? How often such a book brings to Our friend wiser and more potent suggestions than the one most loving could!

Of the little gifts one may make with little trouble, it may be well to mention a few, which are to be especially commended to the attention of busy, not over-skillful people, in that they are all very simply and speedily fashioned, and they require, moreover, little outlay. [Directions follow for small gifts such as needlebooks.]
All the things I have named are the simplest and most inexpensive of gifts. They may, therefore, be within easy reach and answer a purpose that richer gifts could not. Or, being simple, it may be possible to remember, with some of them, some weary toiling, discouraged body who, maybe, will not have else even such gifts as these. And to bestow such gifts, to give a bit of gladness, even at a little cost of time or money or effort, to some one no other may remember, some one we ourselves remember only with Christian love and kindliness is to embody the spirit of the day, to express the spirit of Him, "who, though He was rich, yet," on this day, "for our sakes, became poor, that we through His poverty might become rich."—Olive E. Dana.

Original link:  Good Housekeeping 1886

Photos copyright Dewey's Treehouse.

What to give to the Strugglehards (vintage clipping)

"Of course you have got cousin Sophia Strugglehard on your list?" asked John changing the subject.

"Oh, yes," answered Kitty briskly.

"What are you going to send her?"

"Well," hesitated Kitty, "I have bought her a couple of pretty handkerchiefs."

"Two for a quarter ?" queried John relentlessly.

"Now, John, you are too bad," began Kitty.

"No, I am not," answered he indignantly. "If ever anybody needed something pretty and bright she does, shut up in that dull country town with herflock of little children, and not a cent for anything beyond clothes and food. Think how one of your plush banners or painted easels would brighten her shabby parlor, while in Aunt Easymoney's it is simply one thing more too many."

"Yes, but you know, John," said Kitty eagerly, "she often says she wishes people would not send her handsome presents for she can't make any in return."

"Give and take again," answered John, "but don't you suppose a pretty bit of your own work done for love's sake, would hurt her pride less than the two cheap handkerchiefs given, as she knows as well as you do, just to 'give her something ?'"

"I wish you wouldn't say anything more, John," said Kitty disconsolately, " I think Christmas presents are dreadful anyway, and I shall be glad when it is over with."

"The trouble is not with the Christmas presents, my dear, but with the way you make them. The finest things must be given to the richest people because anything else will seem shabby, and because they give handsome things themselves. There is no affection about it. And the presents themselves, look at the heap of trash that gathers in our parlor Christmas week. Ornaments that keep me a week putting up and buying fixtures for, embroidered nonsense of all kinds, things of no possible use nor comfort, to be brushed up, or picked up, or nailed up for the whole year, till they are faded or broken. When I think of the money that goes into them and the care and bother that must go after them, I feel as Kitty does, Christmas is a burden and a bore. It is too bad to have such a beautiful custom spoiled. No, girls, don't waste eyes and time making something nobody wants just to give something. Give to people because you love them, and give them something they want. If they have so much that you must rack your brains to find something they have not got, for mercy's sake don't burden them with anything more. Give food and clothing to some perishing child in their name and tell them of it. Do anything but take all the heart and the blessedness out of the beautiful Christmas time. Remember who gave Himself, not to the rich and full, but to the poor and perishing, and let us keep our Christmas comfort not smother it under bric-a-brac and embroidery."  —Mary Blake.

(Good Housekeeping, 1886)

Decorating soap--even little ones can do this

The Deputy Headmistress just posted about a neat way to decorate candles, that even little kids could handle.

It reminded me of something we did a couple of times when our Squirrelings were small--and I mean REALLY small: custom-decorated bars of soap, the same way as Polly's Pointers recommends here. (Shows you how old I am that I remember Polly's Pointers?)

Short version: you need bars of soap, tissue paper/markers/or some other kind of thin pictures, paraffin, and something to melt it in. How to: cut a piece of tissue paper almost as big as the bar of soap, and have the child decorate it (colourful scribbles are fine). Dampen the top of the bar of soap (no, DHM, we didn't spit on it) and press the picture onto it. Then either dip the top of the soap into melted paraffin (parent's job) or brush it on. Let it harden and give to delighted grandparent. The decoration will last a very long time, even if you actually use the soap--the paraffin layer protects the picture.

Or you could use stickers, tiny dried flowers, or something like that instead of making your own picture. But honestly, nothing beats a toddler-drawn portrait of Grandma.

And just saying--paraffin is hot, dangerous, flammable, and everything else, so be careful and keep small kids away from it.

On every branch there sat a monkey*

Canadian Living Magazine's holiday issue features lots of gift ideas, including a commercially-produced set of sock monkey tree ornaments. 

We have sock monkey fans in our extended family, so I thought that was a very cute idea.  But maybe a homemade version?

Red Heart came through with a crocheted version.

My holiday-making-quotient just jumped up a couple of notches.

Now I just have to hunt through the yarn box and see what we have that would work.


*Don't recognize that line?  Try this:

When packaging (and love) make gifts special

Sometimes it's not so much what's in the gift as the concept behind it, and the way you present it.  Remember the Dollar Store Santa Dollies at Old Days Old Ways?  Even small, frugal or miscellaneous gifts become something special when the creative-giving muse is allowed to run free.

Valerie at Frugal Family Fun Blog has a perfect example of this: "Doll Bath Sets."  Anyone can hand a kid some soap, an empty shampoo bottle, and a washcloth, and say "here, go wash your doll."  But it takes imagination to put it together into more of a package deal.  Valerie is very, very good at this.

Another example: Family Fun Magazine's Hot Chocolate Cones.  Mostly hot chocolate mix with a few marshmallows and chocolate chips, but it's the shape of the package (cone-shaped clear bags) that turns it into something fun.

We've had a few successes along that line too:  last year's custom Sculpey repackaging, and the clothespin doll kits the girls got a few years ago.  Mama Squirrel has also posted gift basket ideas and other thoughts on gift-giving.  And don't forget our squirrel's tips on giving "thwifted" books.

What happened to the green burlap? (mini gift sacks)

That October rummage sale turned out to be one of the most useful we went to all fall.

The yarn mostly went into potholders; the blue fabric became a cover for my baking binder; the red candles went into our Advent wreath; we used the glass candle jar during the holiday season; Mr. Fixit has been reading How the Irish Saved Civilization. And then there was "one unopened package of "decorator burlap" in an interesting avocado-greenish colour (I'd guess it's been around for awhile)."

I cut the large sheet of burlap into twelve rectangles, and sewed each one up the side and across the bottom to make a small "potato sack."  (I zigzagged across the tops first so they wouldn't fray too much.)  Really easy--I mean, potato sacks aren't supposed to be perfect or fancy anyway.

After lessons were done one day, the Squirrelings and I had been playing around a bit with fusible webbing (Therm O Web HeatnBond Lite Iron-On Adhesive, if you need to know) and brown paper bags.  I made my own "iron on patches" by ironing webbing onto a piece of fabric, tracing small cookie cutter shapes onto the paper backing, and cutting them apart.  Instant iron-on appliques. 

I had the sacks.  I had the patches.  Moment of serendipity.

What went in the bags?  Sandwich bags of hot chocolate mix and crunchy salad toppers. And one of Peppered Pecans for a hot-tongued relative. A couple of them went to friends as small gifts, tied up with ribbon and candy canes. I tied the rest with brown yarn that had jingle bells and name tags strung on first; they were place markers/table gifts for Christmas dinner.

Not bad for a what's-in-your-hand.

This post is linked from Works-for-me-Wednesday: 2010 Reflections.

A Gift from the Un-Lonely Squirrel

Once, there was a fairy named Mama Squirrel. She lived in a treehouse with her loving husband and 3 beautiful squirrels girls. One day she said, "My, my, I had better get started on some Christmas presents!" So, Mama Squirrel took her magic fairy wand (errrrrrr, I mean crochet hook) and waved it about...

She crocheted...

...and crocheted!

Now, Mama Squirrel kept crocheting until she had...

8 hot pads and one wash cloth:

One even had a special button on it!

5 tree ornaments/decorations:

One small mat:

A doily: 

4 bells: 

3 scarves: 

A panda for one lucky little one:

Two pairs of mittens:

And two afghans (two friends tried one out) :o) : 

 

 

And Mama Squirrel, her husband, and 3 lovely daughters lived happily ever after!

~The End~

Merry Christmas!

-Ponytails

Mama Squirrel's Technical Notes and Sources

Panda: pattern by Lori-Jean Karluk, published in Crochet Patterns by Herrschners, July/August 1991. Yarn: leftover black and white worsted.

Mittens: Adapted from this Canadian Living pattern. Patons yarn bought on sale at the mill-ends store.

Scarves: all the same pattern, just made up as I went along. The multi-coloured scarf is made all from one ball of thrifted yarn.

Hotpads and potholders: all adapted from this pattern on Bizzy Crochet and from a variation in the comments posted about the same pattern; all made from rummage-saled and thrifted yarn. This is truly a beginner-friendly pattern--no rounds to join or rows to turn.  And you can make them any size you want.

White mat: adapted from "Hanukkah Doily" by Agnes Russell, in Crochet World December 2007.

Red, white and blue afghan: adapted from "Berries and Evergreens Afghan" by Katherine Eng, in Crochet World December 2005. The designer used shades of rose, claret and greens for a holiday-toned afghan; I wanted to use up several weights and shades of thrifted red yarn (I bought a whole bagful of mixed reds), plus work in some chunky-weight red, white and denim-blue yarn I had bought a long time ago. It was fun to make because you work from the center stripe out in both directions, as if the pattern were reflected in a mirror. My afghan is a bit smaller than the original, but I had to stop when the yarn ran out.

Red, white and green throw: adapted from a basic mile-a-minute afghan pattern.  One package of unidentified-label yarn from the mill-ends store.

Thread tree trims: "Seven Wonders Tree Trims" by Marcia Pope, in Crochet World December 2005. You can tell these (and the other thread things) aren't really done--I still have to stiffen them, fix the loose ends and so on.

Bells: "Crochet Bells" by Maggie Weldon, in Country Crafts Winter 1996.

A never-ending stream of craft ideas

Anyone who thinks that nobody sews these days should check out Sew Mama Sew, as they continue a month-long series on gifts to make--and buy and print out--for people of all ages and interests.  Today's entry is Gifts for Scholars--book bags, wrist wrests, Kindle keepers, and more. (Their gift posts from past years are also on the website.) 

And crocheted dishcloths--knitted ones too--I thought were long gone, but with this era's eco-emphasis they're back, in every shape imaginable.  Here's a visual sampling of what's currently out there; I especially like the Scrubby Rows Dish Cloth at Little House in the Suburbs.

Sewing...it gets easier with time. Really.

My mom knew her way around a sewing machine very well. Me?--no.

You could attribute some of my sewing hangups to the typical middle-school home economics class, which, if I had paid any attention to the cooking units, would have finished me in the kitchen as well. Or just the fact that I hardly ever had to machine-sew anything, because my mom could do it better and faster, and liked to.

For some reason, it was not only the machine that stymied me for many years (yes, I do have ongoing battles with things that plug in), but the whole bewilderment of patterns. And fabric stores, which not only largely disappeared around here before I ever got the hang of them, but which are usually set up to be as confusing as possible.

My first breakthrough was a pair of maternity overalls that I finished about one week before The Apprentice was born. (Better almost late than never.)

My second was a purple jumper that I retooled for toddler Apprentice from a free pair of corduroy pants. It was, honestly, quite adorable and so was she.

My third was a set of stuffed Christmas elves that The Apprentice helped me make when she was three. (No, she didn't use the machine.) I sold most of them at a craft sale and bought myself a lovely angel which we still have. Which just goes to show that people buying Christmas crafts don't care what grade you got in home economics.

Since then I've become slightly less spatially challenged when it comes to figuring out patterns. (Fabric stores still give me a headache.) I am never going to be making wedding dresses, but at least I know how to get both pajama legs right side out now. The Squirrelings have all grown up quite chummy with our sewing machine. (Maybe because they didn't feel like I knew more than they did?) The one thing I've never done yet is put in a zipper...I don't think my machine even has a zipper foot. And through the magic of You-tube, I may even get past that one. I know Ponytails' ambition is to have a serger someday, and maybe she'll let me use it.

In the meantime, if you share some of my hesitations, or even if you don't, can I recommend my favourite sewing site? Sewing.about.com. Besides basic instructions and tips, there are tons of patterns (with lovely photos) and links to more. If you click on Free Patterns, you get a choice of Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced, all sorted and ready to go. But there's another link in the sidebar that takes you to this page, and if you keep scrolling down the page, you'll find links to using Scraps of Fabric, Sewing Slippers, Projects to keep You and Your Home Warm, and more.

Got you interested yet?

If I can do it, anybody can.

A Christmas post? Already?

Well, I was re-reading a book we have called The Perfect Basket. (We have an earlier edition.) It's actually a combination of two earlier books, according to an Amazon review: food mixes for gift giving, and general suggestions for things to put in gift baskets. I like the mix ideas better than the basket ideas, because when you start putting things in a basket (or a bucket or a mixing bowl) the cost can add up very fast. Even a Christmas stocking full of dollar-store things will quickly run well over a few dollars, unless it's a very small stocking.

But that made me think of one of the Deputy Headmistress's Frugal Hacks posts from last Christmas, about thrift shopping/grocery shopping for presents that sort of go together--for instance, a shark book and a shark toy, or a nutmeg grater with some nutmegs. (If you remember, we actually did find a real nutmeg jar and thought of that suggestion.)

And that gave me a couple of ideas to expand on...because it's the middle of summer, prime yard-saling season here, and because I've passed over a few things lately that could, if I had been feeling really creative, have been turned into gifts. I'm still a bit iffy on how much anybody would have wanted the ceramic squirrel-on-a-walnut, even if I had filled the walnut with, say, walnuts...but you never know.

Idea Number One: Focus on basket themes that, besides being appropriate for at least one someone in your life, lend themselves to frugality. For instance, a basket based on someone's favourite decade. Where else are you going to find REAL 1980's stuff except at a yard sale? (Or maybe in your own closet or basement, and then it's free.) Think movies, fad items, magazines, music, toys, gadgets, cookbooks, kitchen items--whatever suits the person. There are stores and online places where you can find favourite candies from each decade, but that might run your costs up. Our nearby bulk store carries some retro candies that don't cost much. Hampstead House (book overstocks in Toronto) is offering a reproduction 1956 guide to entertaining that would be a fun gift along with retro things, but you could probably find an original book like that at a grandma's garage sale.

Idea Number Two: Since it sometimes takes awhile to find enough thrift-shopped/yard-saled basket-worthy things, decide on one or two themes and start collecting up anything that fits. Not that many people are probably into sharks, so choose themes like apples, strawberries, teddy bears, cats, horses and so on. Once you've narrowed your focus, you'll probably start noticing things at sales (or on sale, or in your cupboard) that fit right in and that you would have ignored before. You don't need to get carried away, just a few co-ordinating things can make a basket-type gift special.

Idea Number Three: Go for either the severely practical or the dangerously silly. On the practical side: give a basket of emergency supplies, like candles, matches, flashlight, batteries, vitamins, first aid kit. Or things that are needed in quantity, like postage stamps and bus tickets. Or make a tightwad gift pack for a frugal friend or wanna-be: sandwich bags or foil (for washing and rewashing), calculator, DIY tools, piggy bank, used copy of The Tightwad Gazette, coupon organizer, rubber spatula.

Dangerously silly? Also mostly for those who don't think there's anything wrong with giving or receiving used items: give a nice selection of weird,wonderful and inexpensive. Dancing hamsters come to mind.

Idea Number Four: Use some of the typical basket/filling ideas, but concentrate on items that you have on hand or that you come across at thrift shops, or maybe on sale at the grocery store. How many of these would you skip over at the thrift store?: small rolling pin, cookie cutters, any kind of containers that might hold cookies or other baking, doilies, cutting board, cloth napkins, butter knives (to give with a teacup, scone mix etc.), trays, jars, clear canisters, Bundt pan (to hold homemade cake mix), funny or pretty mugs (to hold candy canes and cocoa mix), knitting needles (I don't see crochet hooks as often, not sure why), a cassette of fiddle music (maybe to go in a Little House basket?), seed sprouter (for a health food basket)...endless possiblities.

Idea Number Five: Get inspired by a book. The last Hampstead House catalogue had a lot of possibilities that could go well with gift items, and you can often find similar titles at thrift shops. Examples: Heart-Friendly Cooking. Chocolate Recipes. Green Clean. Guide to Walking in Canada. Shameless Shortcuts (a book of household hints). Porridge. Taking Tea. And so on.

Idea Number Six: Go totally original, but (repeat this carefully) do not go overboard if your aim is to keep the gift under a certain dollar amount. The following ideas could be made either inexpensively or VERY expensively, so keep it in mind: A new-homeschooler basket with a timer, pens, paper, Nerf ball, anti-stress vitamins, how-to-homeschool book, math manipulatives, magnifying glass, favourite readaloud, Sharpies, etc. A Little House in the Big Woods/Little House on the Prairie basket with a sunbonnet, small rag doll, candy sticks, jar of plum jam, string of beads, homemade pancake mix, Little House craft or cookbook or paperdolls, maybe some Lincoln Logs. An "I love my 18-inch doll" pajama party set with handmade matching pajamas or nighties and/or slippers for girl and doll, matching pillowcases (handmade, they're easy), popcorn, cocoa mix, marshmallows.

And of course you can go with more usual basket themes, like sewing or crocheting supplies, but again, be careful--these days even spools of thread cost more than you'd think. Maybe pick out one more expensive and wanted item, and fill in with scavenged and inexpensive things, like (thrift-shopped) pattern magazines.

Good hunting.

What's in your hand? Post-Christmas thoughts, and memories

As I was saying in a previous post, everyone's idea of Christmas is different. And there are also so many combinations of people, houses and events that your ideas of what you DO on Christmas can also be very different--and can change rapidly from one year to the next. I never "spent" Christmas (as in "slept over") at someone else's house, but we spent most of our young-years Christmases being trotted from one relative's house to another, joining in with one aunt and uncle's plum pudding and gifts here, with another person's holiday-in-a-glass there (we didn't get any of that, if you're wondering), and with my grandparents' potluck-and-turkey to end off the day: think Whoville for that last one. Think noise noise noise noise, Dah Hoo Dor-Aze (can't spell that) and roast beast. I totally related to those scenes from The Grinch.

For years there was even a brunch at another aunt's house, although that eventually got moved to Boxing Day. My grandparents had a New Year's Eve card party for their friends (and usually kept us there overnight so that my parents could go out). And the country cousins had a big family dinner on New Year's. So although I remember my mother making all kinds of holiday preparations (baking like crazy), and my dad doing most of the decorating, I don't remember them ever actually hosting The Dinner on one of the actual holidays. In other words, I didn't get much practice at it.

And now it's up to us most years--not a very big dinner, only a few guests (sometimes only one, more often three), but we still want to make it special. Because it's fairly small, some of our preparations and ideas can wait until the last minute--we're not making forty napkin rings or anything. And I've found--because our Christmas Days tend to be kind of quiet anyway--that I actually enjoy leaving some of the table decorating and even crafting until the Day Of. (Did any of you ever watch a Rankin-Bass Christmas special with the song "Save a Little Christmas for Christmas?")

This year, a couple of days before Christmas, I pulled out a thrift-shopped copy of Corinne Clawson's Holiday Orna-gami, a small paperback that includes several bound-in squares of holiday-coloured paper for folding. I pulled out the yellow squares and tried the star in the book--not bad. The other sheets were a sort of dull green and red that tweaked vague memories of Christmases around 1971, in the era of lick-and-stick Christmas stickers (we used to put them all over tissue-paper-wrapped canned goods to go under a tree at church), crepe-paper-wrapped crackers with paper hats (I think they banged better than this year's dollar-store version), and mod-looking greeting cards. Maybe it was just that we'd been working on restoring the 1972 Crissy doll for Crayons, or that I knew Mr. Fixit had also bought the Squirrelings some vintage Hot Wheels tracks (we already have the cars), or maybe it was that 1973 magazine that Crayons had brought home from the thrift shop (maxi skirts, rick rack, styrofoam and metallic sunbursts)...but somehow my mind was back there with those colours from a time before laser printers, when church bulletins were hand-typed and Gestetnered, and posters were lettered with markers and stencils.

Is all that too much to fit into a few squares of paper? Or was it the other way around...anyway, I started folding those sheets into small baskets, and remembered that I'd bought tiny chocolate bars and Swedish berries to fill them. Those became our table favours.

On Christmas, when I was cleaning up used and unused gift wrap, I noticed that we still had quite a long piece of unused wrap in some of those same vintage-looking reds and greens: have you ever noticed that some of the Made-in-Wherever dollar store wrap looks like that anyway? It might be the lead paint (joking)...anyway...the paper was decorated with the word "Noel," and it gave me an idea. I covered our long table with an off-white table cloth (and the card table we use as an extension with a red plastic cloth), and rolled out the gift wrap down the table. The Apprentice fixed the paper to the cloth with some fix-your-dress-strap tape she had (it came in a vintage-looking package, which seemed appropriate), and we added our regular dinner plates (our good ones had too much pink in them), red paper napkins, the red and green baskets, and gold-and-cream party crackers. Not bad.

We still needed a centerpiece, but that wasn't hard. We put the candle jar we'd made in the middle of the table (remember we filled in between the jars with gold wire-type tinsel?), and The Apprentice took her pliers (all girls should have pliers) and twisted and hot-glued some more of that gold tinsel into a couple of groovy-looking little Christmas tree shapes, to flank the big jar.

And that was our Merry Christmas table: 1971 meets 2009.

Oh--you wanted to know what we had to eat? Turkey (and tofurkey for the vegetarians), mashed potatoes, canned cranberry sauce, frozen green and yellow beans (Europe's Best brand tastes better than fresh this time of year), crockpot stuffing, rolls, salads and pies brought by the guests, and a cookie plate. We were going to have homemade vanilla ice cream, but the cream turned out to be bad at the last minute so that was scrapped. But nobody minded much.

Post Christmas Post: A Non-Stupid Christmas

The one thing I've noticed about typical Christmas celebrations is that there are very few typical Christmas celebrations...especially among those whose Christian beliefs have played a larger-than-normal part in how they celebrate. (Think about the irony of that...) Or don't. Sometimes that makes for very surprising variations--devout Christians who don't "do" Christmas at all, or those who celebrate Christmas for fun but don't pretend it's the birth of Jesus, or those who plan the whole thing as a big birthday party for Jesus, or who celebrate the Old Testament holidays in the autumn, or those whose Christmas does center around church but who also include secular customs like Santa and stockings.

And then there are the Charlie Browns who are just tired of the "whole commercial racket," wish the whole thing was over, and take everybody to the beach for Christmas.

Or maybe it's just that I hang out with the wrong people. I'm thinking about something we saw a bit of on TV once called "Christmas Confidential,", about the dreadful holiday excesses and National-Lampoon-style house decorations and inflatable nativity scenes and spangled office-party outfits (makeup to match) and Santa Claus bikinis and church performances with more cast members than a small town and people stampeding at shopping malls and food, food, food...

All that seems kind of far removed from our Crayons' excursion to the thrift shop (everybody got tiny stuffed toys, figurines, and Mama Squirrel got a bell that she's threatening to ring for school time)...or the bead bracelet that Ponytails made me...or the Voskamps' "praying to be a womb for God" around a wooden Nativity spiral...or Bread and Honey's musings on "Pretending to be Mary." Or families who give just one present apiece (because they have ten children) , or three presents (because that's what Jesus got), or no presents.

Or from the reality of those who are having very quiet holidays (or barely noticed them) because of family griefs, illnesses and other stresses. Or people who have to work on Christmas or who are exhausted from the last week behind a cash register or a shampoo chair. Did you know the mega-supermarket was still open into the evening on the 24th? I know, because we had a celery emergency. Should I be grateful because that saved my stuffing, or be annoyed (and guilty) because our perceived needs don't let these businesses just close their doors early?

The fact that we barely set foot in a shopping mall this past month doesn't make our Christmas any holier than anybody else's. It's an everybody-makes-their-own-choices kind of culture now anyway...and I guess in some ways that's good, it means that the Neighbourhood Decorating Committee isn't going to harass us about our lack of lights, and it means that it's okay to have frozen green beans with Christmas dinner instead of that thing with the french fried onions. Who's going to tell? But I will continue to plug for a non-stupid Christmas.

Whatever that means to you.

December is Putting Together

What are we putting together?

Cider Beetles and Cider Reindeer, inspired by posts at Stonecroft Women of Katy, Elfster, and Chaos in the Kitchen. They're sitting on ice-cube trays because they wouldn't sit nicely on their backs otherwise.

Cost: Hard to estimate: a bag of oranges, brown sugar, and the spices...but you can subtract the insides of the oranges (you scoop them out before drying the peels) and the extra spices we still have on hand.

The DHM posted at Frugal Hacks with an inexpensive gift suggestion: a nutmeg grater from the thrift shop, some whole nutmegs, and a batch of something made with nutmeg plus the recipe. We were at a Salvation Army store a couple of weeks ago and I spotted a very nice cork-topped container labelled "Nutmeg." (There were a couple of jars for other seasonings but I left those there.) No graters, but I found a small one at the dollar store; and that plus a small bag of nutmegs will make a good gift for someone who likes to cook.

Cost: Grater, $1.25 (our dollar store has been raising its prices). Nutmegs, about $2. Jar, $2.


And at the same Salvation Army, we found a Large Glass Thing

and a Skinny Glass Thing

that fit nicely into each other

to make a candle holder like those we linked to previously. We decided to skip the candleholder glued to the bottom--it was big enough as it was. The dollar-store candle


was a bit tall for the inner tube, but no matter--it will burn down quickly enough. Mr. Fixit stuck the two parts together, and we added some sparkly wire trim between them, donated by a friend at our homeschool co-op.

Cost: Large jar, $2.99 (the Salvation Army is pricey sometimes). Skinny jar, .99. Candle, .50. Glue, negligible. Trim, free.

Photo Credits: Ponytails

December is Doing

We have been busy the past couple of weeks. The sewing machine has been running at a speed to rival the Grinch's; the oven and the Crockpot have been working busily; and in between that we go out and shovel the snow. Or this weekend it's been slush and freezing rain. So better to think about the warm things inside.

Frugal Family Fun Blog posted about these Pocket Hand Warmers awhile back, and Mama Squirrel was so taken with them that she decided to make some too, using rummage-saled ribbon and a pair of Mr. Fixit's jeans. (She did ask first.)

Cost: minimal for the ribbon; free for the jeans (since Mr. Fixit couldn't wear them anymore); minimal for the rice and thread.


As you can tell, the hardest thing about them is getting them all the same size (ours weren't) or always quite even (ours weren't). But that's not a big deal. Mama Squirrel is going to make some more and this time they'll be perfect.

Last month I asked your advice on sachet fillings for the scent-sensitive. The idea that appealed most was using peppermint, and Mama Squirrel just happened to find organic dried peppermint (also known as tea) at the health food store.

We had some nice crisp white fabric that came in a rummage-sale box--it might have been muslin, we're not sure. Anyway, we sewed that into 5 x 7 rectangles and stuffed them with cotton balls and a tablespoon of peppermint.

Then we got out the vintage hankies (mostly yard-saled over the years) and played around with ribbon, lace and other trims (rummage-saled and thrift-shopped earlier this year). None of the hankies had to be cut; any little stitches or gluing was done on the ribbon. Mama Squirrel was inspired mostly by the photos on the Primrose Design website, but we made our hankies cover the whole pillow, and skipped the button trim.

This one has a crocheted flower added on--we found a couple of handmade ones in with a bag of lace and trims.

This one is tied with a strip of tatting...Mama Squirrel liked that against the ribbon design of the handkerchief.

We packaged them in zipper bags with a printed-out tag (it also says "From the Squirrel Family Workshop" on the blocked-out part.

Cost: pretty much free, since we already had the hankies and the trims were bought at yard-sale prices. Two bags of dollar-store cotton balls filled six sachets.

And that white fabric inspired another sewing project, but we can't tell you about it yet because somebody might peek.

More "doing" coming up...stay tuned.