Has anyone seen the kitchen counter? It's missing . . .

Hooray!
  

The art is finally finished for this year's cd cover, 

and the massive assembly line has begun.  

I'm actually one of the last artists on planet earth who creates art using a pen and  the old cut & paste method.  I've requested that Santa send me some tutorial materials for Adobe Illustrator and Photoshop for Christmas . . . Santa, are you listening?!

 

Yes, we're a 

little behind schedule.

 

No, I didn't have a 

December show to blame!

 

Yes, I still hope everyone will 

receive them before the Big Day.

I believe this is the 17th year of the Hinckley Christmas cd, which I feel is an accomplishment in its own right.  

And Russ has once again threatened to make this his last. (It's good to have things you can count on . . . and come to think of it, you can count on a last minute emergency rush to assemble the cd.  Maybe NEXT YEAR I'll get it done in November???!!!)


I can hear you snickering, btw . . . and you're right.  Not likely at all.   

Mrs. Santa's setback.

  
Well well well.
Yes, it's been several days since my last trip to blogland, but before you jump to the conclusion that it's because I just don't care, let me explain --

I was planning on writing a nice post yesterday,

but instead I went to the hospital 

. . . and then spent the night there.  

In December!  With all these projects on my desk!  With unmade cookies screaming from the pantry!  With the post office deadline loudly ticking past!  And with ABSOLUTELY NOTHING WRONG WITH ME.

Which is good news, I guess, but it was pretty frustrating to be carted around in a wheelchair and wheeled around in a bed when I really wanted to be home doing a Jillian Michaels workout and whipping up holiday magic.

And all because of those two pesky little words (which I learned several years ago never to utter but haven't found another way to describe yet) . . . chest pain. 

When the doctor told me I was going to have to stay overnight, it got ugly.  Mrs. Santa was a little . . . *ahem . . . less than twinkly.  Actually, when I called my family doctor in the first place and he told me to go to the hospital, I said, "YOU go to the hospital!", which isn't the way polite people speak to their doctors.

But then polite doctors never 

send people to the hospital 

a week before Christmas 

with seven thousand unfinished things 

on their lists. 

Anyway, I've said it before, Dad, and I'll say it again -- thanks for the genes.  They're the gift that keeps on giving.  But for today, at least, they're just a bunch of sound and fury signifying nothing.  (Nothing but idle threats and a miserable batch of tests and a deplorable lack of sleep.)

I hope all of you are enjoying a more pleasant seasonal rush!

And making more progress on your lists than I am.

Now, back to work!  

(I'll see you after I've had a little nap.)

  

Neglect.

"A lot of people like snow.  I find it to be 

an unnecessary freezing of water."

-- Carl Reiner

I can only hope that since I've neglected posting for a few days, you've neglected me as well.  It's December, after all, and we're all a-scurry trying to be even busier than we are the rest of the time.  

But here at Small Works we're grounded today for a fact . . . a blizzard warning, so we couldn't go anywhere if we wanted to.  Here are a few photos, just to make you happy that you're there and I'm here:

from my studio

unsuccessfully from one side of the fireplace

more successfully from the other side

Just to give you a little perspective, we're talking about 20+ inches of snow, 40 mph winds, wind chills in the life-threatening category (-50 tomorrow morning!) When MnDot pulls their vehicles off the road, it seems there are few places worth trying to go.  In fact, I'm currently watching the weather channel just to reassure myself that God has not turned his back on the entire planet. (And since there's a tornado in Arkansas as we speak, I'm not sure how to feel about it) . . .

Oh well -- 

it made it a great day to do this:

A plate of nachos the size of my head,
a good Cohen Brothers' movie (Hudsucker Proxy)
and a goofy and eclectic collection of favorite old ornaments.
I guess it's not such a bad day, after all.

Now where's that hot cocoa 

I stuck in the pantry a few months ago . . . ?


  

It's Tuesday, and time marches on . . .

Here, as promised, are some photos of the project 

that kept me busy (and covered in glitter) last week.  

I belong to an ornament exchange with my daughters, my sister and my nieces, so every year we each come up with an idea and produce 9 ornaments.

We have a great time with this project and look forward to it!  My sister's family claims that they stress about it because the Hinckleys are so good at making things.  We maintain that we stress about it because my sister not only taught me everything I know about making things, but also passed her exceptional skills on to all of her daughters.

It's good-natured stress all around, and the best kind of crafting adventure because it's just for fun. And such a nice way for all these young girls with their new families to begin amassing the kinds of memory-laden baubles that make decorating the tree each year just like a party with old friends.

I had started with a plan for an ornament that I called "Baby Jesus in a pie tin" (working title!) and I assembled a prototype, using a vintage tart tin for the manger, some vintage tinsel for sparkle, and a stitched wool baby with a gold scrap crown.  HOWEVER . . .

for some reason, after I had the first ornament finished I sort of lost momentum and it just didn't turn my crank the way I had hoped it would.  Of course I had already cut materials for 9 babies . . . so now I know I have a "kit" ready to go for a future year!  (We'll see how I feel about it next time.)

But my desk was still littered with vintage tart tins in a variety of sizes and shapes, so I wondered what else I could do with them.

When in doubt, one can never go wrong with Aunt Lillie's old Christmas cards (they've served me so well over the years!), so I pulled out some glass pieces, grabbed a hefty bottle of glitter and some glue, and went to work . . .

 

I'm so pleased with the results!  They're sparkly and fun, required just the right amount of work and have a little bit of family nostalgia in the mix.

Now I just have to decide who gets which one, come up with some clever packaging . . .

I know . . . it's the worst photo but it might be the cutest ornament.  
I won't even bother to apologize once again for my inability to take a decent photo.  
Love me, love my blurriness.

and of course, figure out a way to get the glitter out of every single crack and crevice of my entire studio (not to mention the pesky piece in my eye!)   Did you know wool REALLY attracts glitter?

Oh well . . . things are supposed to sparkle, right?  

 

It's Christmas! 

 

If you don't want to talk about Mondayness, Winterosity, Laundryitis or Too-Tight-Pants-Syndrome today, you probably don't want to talk to me . . . 
so what else is there . . . 

Oh!  

I know!

 

December 5 would have been 

my maternal grandfather's birthday.  

 Clarence Alma Grant

His name was Clarence, but he went by Tabby.  The only explanation for this I have ever heard is that there was another Clarence in town when he was young who also went by Tabby.  As good a way as any to get a nickname, I suppose. (And since his father was in his 70's when my grandpa was born, I imagine he was pretty much free to do as he wished in a lot of things. But that's another story.)

Clarence & Aunt Lillie

He lived with Aunt Lillie, because on the day he was married to my grandmother, she felt sorry for her unmarried sister and invited her to move into their small house with them.  I can only imagine his delight.  But after his wife died, he and Lillie continued to live together happily for the rest of his life.


I spent much more time with him than most young girls do with their grandfathers. He would pick me up from school on Fridays and take me home with him, where I would spend the weekend being "his gal."   He was exceptional in so many ways.  For instance, as near as I could tell, he KNEW EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD.  And they knew him, and were always delighted to see him.

If there was a weenie, he roasted it.  If there was a game, he played it.  A political rally?  He had the biggest sign.  A sing-along?  He led the music.  A community event?  He was the emcee.  A skit or play needed?  He wrote it and then starred in it.  

He also owned a dance hall, and we would always stop by the dance late on Saturday nights just to see how things were going.  Once he tried to teach me to fox trot.  Unsuccessfully, I'm afraid.  But after a few clumsy attempts he just let me stand on his feet.   

He never met a holiday he didn't like, 

a bad joke he didn't already know, 

or a piece of candy he couldn't find in his treat drawer.

And there's never a December 5th that I don't miss him, miss him, miss him.  I hope he's having fun, wherever he is.  I'm sure everyone he's with is having a good time, because he always made sure of that.  

Happy Birthday, Grandpa!  

You left this party 

much too soon.  xo

Snow, Snow, Look at the Snow!

Do we like it?  We don't know . . .

Busy, busy Friday working on holiday projects (of which I hope to provide you photos on Monday).  If you're lucky enough to live somewhere that ISN'T bombed with snow today, please pause for a moment and soak in some warmth for me.

For the rest of you, please enjoy a repeat of Small Works' Vintage Snowman Parade, courtesy of Aunt Lillie and her inability to throw anything away . . . bless you, Lillie!  It was a bit of a pain when the piles kept you from being able to sleep in your own room, but all is forgiven and forgotten now that we get to enjoy your never-ending supply of ephemera.  (If we can't have you, I suppose we'll have to settle for your stuff . . . xo.)

Happy Shoveling!

  

December already?!

How did it get so late so soon?

It's night before it's afternoon.

December is here before it's June.

My goodness how the time has flewn.

How did it get so late so soon?

--Dr. Seuss

I can't believe it's time to be writing 

about holiday things already!

  

As alarmed as I feel that it's suddenly December 1, I am mostly relieved that I'm not spending this day on the loading dock at the Merchandise Mart in Chicago getting ready for the One of a Kind Show. It's a wonderful show and I will dearly miss the many friends that I reconnect with each year, but for the past 5 years it has hijacked my Thanksgiving and my Christmas and I'm glad that I made the decision to take a year off.  Whew! (I do still have free tickets, however -- if anyone is in Chicago and wants to go, please send me an email and I'll send you the link to the freebies!)

Instead, I'm somehow managing to get behind on all the things I was sure I would have additional time for. At this time of year I seem to be plagued with Christmas ADD -- I start working on one project only to have it remind me of another idea that I've been meaning to explore, and pretty soon my desk is a sea of half-finished ornaments and to-do lists, not to mention the scattered remnants of my regular work.

Last night, for instance, I noticed the shape of a little piece of red wool reminded me of a bird, so I took out my scissors and snipped it into shape, then stitched it onto a green scrap that was sitting nearby.

It is SMALL -- just 1 inch across (so don't judge it too harshly), but it's going to fit so nicely into this vintage mini tart pan to make a little ornament. 

Sorry this didn't scan so well . . . 

but who has time to worry about such things? It's December, for heaven's sake!

But that's just the kind of diversion that's keeping me from getting anything done that's already on the list.  

On the other hand, this is the first year in the last 5 that I've actually gotten the advent calendar out in time for December 1, so technically I guess you could say I'm ahead of the game:

Russ' mother made this for us when the girls were young, and it is all hand-applique and quilting and is just delightful.  We feel so lucky to have it!  I've started a tradition of making one for each of my girls when they leave the nest, but haven't attempted one that is quite so labor intensive as this one was.  

I love opening each tiny pocket to reveal an old friend . . . and isn't that what's so special about December?  The comfort and familiarity of it, surrounded by memories and favorite things and anticipation every second for an entire month!

And millions of things to do, of course . . . 

Happy December kick-off!