I don’t have anything clay related . . . and, consequently, I feel this growing agitation inside with every passing day I am not in there. If you are an artist I know you know what I mean.
I’ve been spending the last week and a half getting things ready for my family for Christmas & trying to sooth myself by muttering I am almost done, almost done. This is not the part of Christmas I enjoy. I am not much of a shopper in the best of “conditions” so you might imagine how I am feeling between the Atlanta traffic, store crowds, and items they are out of but remain on my kids’ list. I still have one child who is on the edge of believing. Santa does not “run out.” Everyone knows he has elves who just make more.
A peak inside . . . mmmmm
Part of our Christmas prep involves baking 12 batches of gourmet brownies from scratch: Chocolate Caramel Hazelnut, Southern Chocolate Mint, S’more Brownie, Peanut Butter, Raspberry Cheesecake Brownie, and my personal favorite, Zucchini Brownie. I finished baking over the weekend and then began wrapping each individual brownie to be labeled and packaged into a gift. That is 288 individually wrapped brownies, give or take. A few are swiped and eaten during the process. (there is a cushion in my numbers for a little “loss.”) Why this insanity? Two reasons: teacher/coaches gifts and budget. I need to show our appreciation to these wonderful people . . . but between my three kids, I need over 30 gifts! Even a $5 gift card for all these folks would add up to more than $150. The brownies are half that.
With the late start this year, I considered simplifying, but I did not have the heart. I so appreciate the untold ways these great people have contributed to my children’s lives, and, we have given this gift so long that many teachers really look forward to it. Some who have had an older sibling in class have actually mentioned it in August!
Boxes of Brownie Gifts
So I cannot not make them. Usually the baking is a lot fun because the shopping is long finished. Usually I finish the shopping early so I can forget it ever happened . . .
Let me know if any of you are interested in a recipe . . . I am happy to share them. In the meantime, I am taking a breath because I really am . . . . almost finished!
My table went up very quickly. Kirk built the display a few years ago and, aside from some very minor adjustments, it has proved to be very portable and versatile. It comes apart in sections and is really quite light. I am able to put it together with a few screws. My biggest challenge was hauling 18 boxes of work up a flight of steps to load into the car (of course, I mean mini van). These were the moments I missed that garage studio! I considered using a hand truck to save my back except that meant a trip down through the backyard and around the long side of the house through very soggy grass. Not so good. I tried to remember to lift with my legs.
I was hurrying with this because of other commitments today and so I did not secure the shelves in the same manner as I do for an actual show. When I had just about finished filling the entire display space, I leaned over to turn on the lighting and I bumped the corner of the display. This set off a heartbreaking chain reaction as the entire vertical stack of shelves on that corner came tumbling down, along with all of it’s work. Much was small, delicate handbuilt pieces . . . a sugar and creamer, a few lidded jars, a salt and pepper set . . . and they were broken in pieces all over the larger work that was sitting on the table. Most of the bigger work survived without a scratch, except the rim of a favorite footed oval bowl chipped. Thankfully the portion of the display that crashed was small . . . it could have been much, much worse. I need to remember to slow down. Focus on the moment and let the rest go. Everything in due time.