On the Eighth Day of Christmas I Posted on My Blog

Eight(y)* Christmas Cookies

Wow, I just got my Christmas baking done. I ended up making 80 Christmas cookies. So this is what 80 cookies in treat bags looks like (I'll post the picture later in the day). What does an 80-cookie kitchen look like? Frankly, I'm too embarrassed to even take a picture. And I post nearly everything so you know it is bad. Unfortunately the 80-cookie kitchen is also the 50-Christmas card, 3- scrapbook, various sewing projects, coupon-clipping central, 1 large dinner, and 1 last load of laundry kitchen. At least James had already taken care of our dinner dishes.

As usual, I got the recipe off of The Pioneer Woman Cooks. The cookies are pretty yummy for being just sugar cookies (and they're hecka cute) but just a little too labor-intensive. Labor-intensive, hecka cute. . . Remind you of someone?


Making the cookies would have been more fun if I had some willing helpers and had started before 9:30 at night. James did help me, but I got to hear every reason why he shouldn't have had to help me. Apparently, making 80 cookies is "optional" to him. Although I'm pretty sure I saw it somewhere in my Relief Society handbook. Right after that section about tablecloths and centerpieces.

*For anyone out there who thinks I'm fudging my number so I have something to post, let me tell you that I counted every single cookie and we had exactly 80! It's crazy how these things just happen. Blog and ye shall receive, or something like that.

Death, by Sewing

Also known as a Handmade Chenille Blanket.
The website has similar instructions, but better pictures of the finished project.

If you ever want to sew yourself to death, here's a pretty good way to go.

Step 1 - Gather your materials:
5 pieces of "coordinating" flannels, each cut to a yard and a quarter
VERY GOOD SCISSORS
fabric pen (disappearing or washable)
lots of thread
seam binding
sewing machine
seam ripper (maybe this one is just for me)
extra needles for your machine (again, maybe just for me)

Step 2 - Decide which piece of flannel you want to be the base and lay it face down on the floor. This step sounds simple, but when you live in 700 square feet and have plenty of bulky furniture and a toddler under foot, it is easier said than done. Lay the remaining 4 pieces of material face up on top of the first. The order doesn't matter (unless it does to you). Square the pieces and pin them together. Sew around the edges with a basting stitch and then trim all the edges to about 1/4".

Step 3 - If you are neurotic and a bit of a sewing masochist, like I tend to be, then next you need to wake up and decide that your work is just not quite right, rip out all the stitches, and repeat Step 2 with roughly your original results. By this time you should have stabbed yourself a few times with the straight pins. If you are normal or just don't care, you can skip to Step 4.

Step 4 - Now for the fun part. If you find tedious monotony fun. Sometimes I do. I am a stay-at-home mom, after all. Basically, you need to mark/sew straight lines on the diagonal - about 1/2" apart. I started out carefully marking, remarking, then marking a third time for a large portion of the blanket before I realized I could just eyeball it on the machine and it turned out alright. Apparently I flipped the neurotic switch off. But I think I'm more on a dimmer switch, so I guess I just toned it down as I realized I was undertaking a week-long project with only days to complete it for a baby shower I went to today (not advisable). Also I went through 4 needles on my machine. I'm not sure if this is normal for this project, normal for my ancient sewing machine, or just normal for me. Luckily I had some spares.


Step 5 - At a certain point during Step 4, you will realize the enormity of this project and think you will never finish. Then about 30 minutes later, it is doable again. Then you begin Step 5, which involves very carefully cutting through 4 (all but your predetermined "base" layer) of the 5 layers of fabric . You will now cut between each and every one of the stitches you just sewed. Again, at some point you will be overwhelmed, and an urge to rock yourself in the corner will wash over you. And that too passes.

(from here on out you'll have to excuse the pictures. James took the camera to DC with him, so I borrowed a friend's and it just isn't as awesome as ours. Oh well, you get the picture... hehe)

Remember when I mentioned very good scissors? This is why. I like the nice ones with the spring in the handle so they just pop open after every cut. Minimizes blisters. Oh, you laugh.

Step 6 - Bind the blanket. Really, that's it. Check out that awesome mitered corner!













Step 7 - Let your washer and dryer pulverize the blanket (like you want to but no longer have the strength to) until it is fluffy and pretty. Two words you would never have used in the previous steps.

Step 8 - Pick off all of those annoying little fuzzies stuck to the non-chenille side. Or you can get one of those defuzzer things that kind of shaves them off. Whatever.

Step 9 - Record your work so you don't feel inclined to repeat the process too soon. Also, rest your arms. If you happen to have the unfriendly combination of an old sewing machine that doesn't pull the very thick blanket through very easily - you have to push a little - and an old wrist strain from lifting garage door openers two at a time, then you will probably be sleeping with your brace for a few days until the throbbing subsides.