Christmas 2011 is finally over. I know, I know—-you probably put all your ornaments away before the pumpkin pie was gone and already have your Valentine’s decorations up. I bet you are set to bake red, white and blue cupcakes for Presidents’ Day and have a bunting ready to hang on the front porch.
Not me. Our at-home celebration with our children and grandchildren began Dec. 27th and ended Jan. 3 when they had all left. So we are a
little lot slower wrapping things up.
The pre-Christmas bug that kept me in bed and, more importantly, out of the sewing room, is the reason I am still finishing up a few gifts. The microfleece throw for my sweet daughter-in-law was embroidered with one of my favorite machine embroidery collections, Sandy Jenkins‘ Paisley Alphabet from Martha Pullen.
I especially like to create an applique’ for the solid portion of the design (gold show above).For this projects, a silver gray ultrasuede was substituted for the fill embroidery. Shelly loves deep, rich colors so I hope she will enjoy this throw.
Six year old Robert was pleased with the Dallas Cowboy Christmas gifts I made for him, but I had promised some pajamas. Now they are finished. The shirt is just like the other I made for him, but now he has a jammie top and one to wear out and about.
But my husband and I are a little glum after all the holiday noise and activity created by three children in the house. The quiet is deafening. When our children were growing up, our home was the place they gathered with their friends. So the chaos of this past week was a poignant reminder of those bygone days.
Still there are little tokens left behind, here and there, that we are loathe to put away. Robert, who can’t keep up with his shoes or anything else, left his beloved bear behind. Teddy waits patiently for his boy under the child decorated Christmas tree. I’m sure this is one sorely missed bear.
Two year old Alastair is remarkably responsible and trustworthy around fragile items. My mother made this nativity set for our first Christmas as married folk, in 1968. Treasured as it is, it was perfectly safe at Alastair’s eye level. He even “improved” the scene with a toy car. He reminded me of the little drummer boy who gave “his best for Him, ba-rum-pa-bum-bum.” Little Alastair left his favorite red sportster.
I have always placed little unbreakable Christmas decorations on the stairs, at eye level for even smaller mobile children. These are the last things to be put away.
I don’t know why I am feeling so sad. In just 50 weeks it will be Christmas again.