A woman after my own heart. Speaking as one whose own mother called her "craft retardate" and sang unkind ditties about her artistic incompetence (sniff! it still stings), I can identify with the woman who writes of Christmas magazines
It wasn't until I reached adulthood and started hosting Christmas Eve dinner that I was able to tap my inner artist. I found my medium: sugar. I can't draw or paint a poinsettia you'd recognize, but give me royal icing, a pastry bag and a #2 tip, and I can give you one in "stained glass" on the top of a cake. I'm an idiot sauvant that way.The articles are very helpful with detailed instructions which involve buying stuff from different stores and then making a craft with your kids that droops or doesn't stand up right so to fix it you burn your hand with a hot glue gun, which causes a trip to the emergency room and costs you five hundred bucks.
I hate crafts. I am a certifiably craft-challenged person.
But enough about me. Read the article for a nice way to celebrate the upcoming feast of St. Nicholas (Dec. 6). In our house, St. Nick usually leaves candies in the shoes and items that aid the observance of Advent (such as Tomie dePaola's books on The Lady of Guadalupe, the Legend of the Poinsettia, Old Befana, etc.) I've an idea what St. Nick might be thinking about this year, too, but since prying eyes are everywhere, I ain't sayin'.
