Christmas is what you make it


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The Heart of New England
Celebrating the unique character & culture of Maine ~ New Hampshire ~ Vermont
Christmas is What You Make It
By Susan Nye

Every year I hear the same complaint: Christmas has become too commercial.
People mumble and grumble and worry that the holiday is all about buying
and taking and not giving. Charlie Brown has been in despair over the
madness for more than four decades.

I don’t care, I love Christmas. Sure the stores are filled with frenzied chaos,
holiday advertising is merciless and catalogs overwhelm the post office. It
doesn’t matter, I still love the spirit of Christmas, traditions old and new and
all of the hustle and bustle.

Every year I look forward to watching sappy Christmas movies. I particularly
like the ones which make me shed a tear or two. Even on the most frigid day,
I like going out and getting my wreaths and a tree. I love bringing out my
collection of decorations, tchotchkes and dust collectors and decking the halls.

I am particularly fond of those little white lights and string them along my
fence posts, wrap them around my tree and sprinkle them throughout the
house. When I was little we had big multicolored lights. At five or six I
thought they were wonderful; today they would probably be considered
retro.

I don’t even mind shopping, although over the past few years I have made
more and more of my gifts. I have made wreaths and topiaries and tree
ornaments. Last year was a scarf year. I don’t really knit, but I can make
scarves so I made at least a half a dozen, probably more. I have created gift
bags with homemade cookies and candies as well as savory dips and
tapenades. I create my own little version of Santa’s workshop, by putting on
Christmas music and going to work, mixing, rolling and dipping; gluing,
sewing and knitting.  

Making holiday gifts and decorations is nothing new. My mother still uses
the wreath that her mother made with artificial sugared fruit more than 50
years ago. I remember my Mom wielding cans of gold paint and spraying
anything from pinecones to wreaths made from cork screw, bow tie and
wagon wheel pasta or crèche figures made from rags, Styrofoam balls and
pipe cleaners. It is amazing how a little gold paint can transform the ordinary
to the extraordinary -- at least for a six year old.

In elementary school our teachers helped us out with gifts for our parents
every year. I think I was in the first grade when I made my favorite gift for my
Mom. It was a magnificent pair of plaster of Paris earrings. I thought they
were absolutely beautiful and very festive. We started with big globs of
plaster and after they hardened we painted them red or green. I chose red.
We added a big spot of glue in the center and sprinkled them with glitter and
attached clasps to the back.

My mother bravely wore those earrings for an hour or two. They weighed a
ton and the clasps were like miniature bear traps.

Fast-forward several years to college when I discovered baker’s dough and
made chubby little Santas and red nosed reindeer. I was an art major and got
carried away so I also made taxi cabs, suns, stars, moons and a bunch of fruits
and vegetables as well as Adam and Eve. Over time all of these decorations
have broken or been eaten by mice, except for Eve.

I still make tree ornaments every year or so. Last year it was loons nesting on
pine cones. It is great fun creating these mini-masterpieces and sharing them
with family and friends.

Today my kitchen table and counters are covered with felt, buttons, beads
and yarn. Chocolate almond brittle is cooling on the porch and cookies are
baking in the oven. I don’t worry about Christmas being too commercial. Like
most things, Christmas is what you make it. Enjoy the holiday and make it
your own.






About the author:

Susan Nye lives in New London, NH. A self-confessed “foodie”, she likes
nothing better than a crowd of family and friends around her table. To learn
more about her cooking classes and catering services, visit her web site at
www.susannye.com or email her at susannye@tds.net.
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