It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like...Something or Other

We here at Chez Boeckman-Walker are barreling toward the hell of the holidays at relative full steam. As I think I've mentioned a time or two, Gentle Reader, we don't exactly celebrate "normal" holidays. Since the human adults in this house do not identify themselves as Christian and thus think it hypocritical to celebrate Christmas--and sure as hell don't want to get wrapped up in the materialism that's rampant this time of year and teach that idea to our kiddo--we've sort of bastardized a made-up Hindu holiday, Pancha Ganapati, which was made up so that Hindus could sort of take part in all the merriment of this time of year.

Anywho, as the boy grows and has a more functional memory, we try to establish some traditions for the fam. Last year we made a gingerbread house from a kit to be Ganesh's shrine, which is one of the rituals of Pancha Ganapati. We're repeating that ritual this year--and I'm thinking perhaps this should not be a tradition.

"Why is that?" you ask, Gentle Reader?

Because making a gingerbread house from a kit sucks ass, to put it politely. (Trust me, I was muttering enough curses under my breath yesterday while dealing with the MFer that that opening sentence is polite.) Last year I went with a quick and dirty kit I found at HEB's bakery. This year, I nabbed a Debbie Mumm/Wilton cobranded kit at JoAnn's Turkey Day weekend, and I thought this year might be different, that it might not be such a hassle to build the thing because, hey, the boy might actually be useful.

Yeah yeah, I know, I know. I'm a total idiot for entertaining such a delusion.

The boy got out of school at noon yesterday, and I had plans to hit the JC Penny sale that started at 3 because the coats would be 70% off and Momma needs her a new coat for when she walks the boy to school so she doesn't freeze her arse off and wind up with spasmed lungs. On top of that, I had to make the weekly grocery run, and I'd told the boy that because he'd only had one "behavior incident" at school, we could make a run to the local Korean frozen yogurt shop. (I'd live at Tomunchi if I could, but I can't. Alas.) And on top of all that, I thought we could squeeze in construction of the gingerbread shrine.

Again, I know how absolutely crazy I was to entertain such a delusion.

I didn't count on making the boy attempt to nap twice. He tried after we got home from school, but that didn't work even though he needed to catch some zzzzs. He yawned throughout the grocery run, so I sent him back to nap after we got home from HEB. That time, he managed to do the deed.

While he napped, I whipped up the frosting/gingerbread cement/royal icing glue that was included in the kit. That little task should have been easy, right? Just add the stated amount of water to all the powder (confectioner's sugar, I suspect) in the big bag in the kit, beat with an electric handmixer and voila!

Wrong!

The instructions leaflet stated to use 5 tablespoons and 1 teaspoon of warm water. Okay, sure, no problem. But the instructions on the bag of powder stated to use 6 tablespoons and 1 teaspoon of warm water. So which was I to believe? I didn't want to add too much water and then have to thicken the goo by slowing adding in my own powdered sugar. But I didn't want to use too little water and burn out my handmixer trying to mix the stuff.

So I started with the 5/1 combo, cleared away all the powder that fluffed everywhere when I started mixing the contents of the bowl (what a pain and a waste!) and then added that extra tablespoon of water. By the time I was finished, I had the toothpaste consistency both sets of instructions told me I should have as the final result. Then I covered the bowl with a damp towel so the goo wouldn't harden and woke up the boy because it was time to go shopping.

Flashforward about 90 minutes later. (I was paralyzed with indecision at Pennys, and I wound up buying three coats because I'm not sure which one will work best. You can't exactly recreate actual user conditions--with all the bulky layers and whatnot that I wear on a cold day's walk to school--when it's 80 degrees outside. But the temperature is set to drop tomorrow, so I'll have more ideal conditions.) It's already past 4 and I knew the husband was on his way home (after stopping first to pick up my bulk granola at Whole Paycheck) and I knew we didn't have much time before we were to all head out in search of a tree to decorate. But nevertheless, I pressed on with the shrine construction.

And got absolutely nowhere. At one point I did have the four walls up, but then they collapsed. One of the peaked pieces fell and hit my foot, causing the peak to break, so I had to do some repair work, which didn't make me happy. The boy was bouncing off the walls because...because he's just that way and was being no help whatsoever. Bucket kept jumping up onto the counter so he could do his sous-chef duties, and that was not helpful in the least bit. I'd finally thrown up my hands in defeat when the husband walked in.

Yeah, those people you see on Food Network who build the incredibly elaborate gingerbread houses and showpieces evidently must not have rambunctious boys and half a dozen cats underfoot while doing them. And they have far more patience than I have.

Conifer Hunting
We put off getting a tree until much closer to the actual start of the holidays because we didn't want the thing drying up and defoliating all over our floor. That happened last year, and we've still found dry needles in the living room from time to time. Plus we live a pretty active life in our house, and the last thing I need it to be righting a decorated tree again and again after it's literally fallen victim to the boy or the felines.

Of course, the problem with putting off the tree buying is that you're a little hard-pressed to find trees to buy. We usually get a tree at the local BLowe's, but the store was barren. So too was the Wally World next door. So after 15 minutes of waiting in traffic to get across the street, we found The Home Despot still had some conifers. We picked out a really nice 6-foot or so Douglas fir, and it only set us back $25 or so. Woohoo!

With the boy and I holding on to the strings securing our tree to the top of the husband's Civic, we raced home. I raced to get supper on the table while the boys got the tree rooted into the stand in the yoga room. (No room in the living room this year. We have to have all the space for kickboxing three times a week.) I even let the husband put the lights on--something he's never done in the thirteen yuletide holidays we've spent together. I think he was quite flabbergasted that I relinquished this duty, and he did a nice job. See for yourself:

Tonight or this afternoon, I'm going to let the boys decorate the shrine. The boy has all kinds of plans for it, and I just don't have the patience to put up with him when he's in his "creative" moods. I'll play photodocumentarian while the boys play Martha Stewart. As for the tree, it'll be decorated Sunday as part of our festivities for the first day of Pancha Ganapati.