I love the concept of homemade Christmas gifts. I love the thought of investing my time and efforts and creative energies into gifts that demonstrate my love for the recipient -- in a way that giving a gift card purchased at check-out just can't. I love feeling that I'm breaking free of the system -- a rebel against commercialism and greed, toward real love and thoughtfulness.
I love receiving homemade gifts! I love the variety of things I end up with this way, the showcase of loved ones' varied talents. There is something wonderful about receiving something that you know someone else put real time and thought into.
Now, reality:
These photographs are taken December 19, 2010. I don't know what time it was, but I can assure you that it was late. My amazing gift ideas had been whittled down, simplified, and economized by this point: Christmas cookies, probably hard as a rock. On a creative scale of one to ten, I give it a 3.5. By the time they made it into recipients' tummies, they were probably quite disgusting (even really snazzy cookies keep only so long).
Quintin is obviously enjoying his role as slave-labor, the one perk of the situation ;-)
Next year, people! Just wait...
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