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| Twas the week before Christmas | ||
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| 'Twas the
week before Christmas and the house was a hush. Save the stamping of rubber in a last minute rush. The cardstock was cut with precision and care, In hopes that a greeting would soon be stamped there. The children were tucked in their beds around eight, but now it's 10:30-- How'd it get so late? And I in my PJs with bleary red eyes, had finally arranged all the stamping supplies. It started out simple (it does every year) just make a few cards for friends who are dear. Nothing too fancy-- just an elegant touch A gold embossed image, some ribbon and such. I pressed ink to paper (it looked crisp and clean) a sprinkle of powder, then heat for a sheen. When what on my green Christmas cards should appear? Why a tiny gold Santa, with sleigh and reindeer! But with little stray flecks, and some missing spots, too, I knew in a moment this one wouldn't do. Then I tried it again, once more, and another. "I will get this right!" I said to no other. On pigment! On powder! On heat from a gun! Now ribbon! And envie! Can I make fifty-one? "I can do it!" I said with all of my might. And looked at the clock-- 'twas well past midnight. I went straight to stamping out card after card. "This might take all night, but at least it's not hard." But after I finished, they looked a bit lame. I didn't want fancy, but these were too plain. And then in a twinkling a thought came to mind. "I'll just dress them up and then they'll be fine." So I went in my craftroom and looked all around. Then back to the table with all that I'd found. My Fiskars I brandished (I wasn't a quitter). And soon I was covered in EP and glitter. A bundle of papers I spread on the table to find the right background (quite sure I was able). With fibers that sparkled, a mulberry sheet was just the right choice, my card to complete. I started to smile when the cuckoo came out. "It's now 3am!" That bird left no doubt. The cap of a marker I held in my teeth. I'd lay in some color, or maybe gold leaf. My broad little face was all beaded with sweat. But I wouldn't give up! Well, not at least yet. There was glue on the table and ink on the floor. I laughed at the site, though my fingers were sore. I did not complain, just kept up my work. When more things went wrong, I did not go berserk. When I finally finished, one card, around six, it looked pretty good after all of my tricks. "I'm keeping this one. My work on it shows." So clutching my card, up the staircase I rose. I crawled into bed at the first crack of dawn. Creativity spent, motivation all gone. But make no mistake! I promise one thing-- "You'll all get your cards! But you'll get them next Spring!" |
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