Friday, 22 November 2013

st patrick, ad nauseum

I spent this afternoon painting a Saint Patrick "peg" doll - twenty one times (well, I got started on this massive project anyway). Twenty other women in town will spend the next few weeks doing almost the same thing, only their pegs will be painted into the likes of twenty one Padre Pios, St Agneses and John Paul IIs. Before Christmas there will be peg-painting party and a peg swap. On Christmas morning, there will be a collection under the Christmas tree in twenty one homes. 

This is a fun and inexpensive gift idea, so I thought I'd share it.  I've seen superhero pegs, Little House on the Prairie pegs, Old Testament pegs and more.  They remind me of my old school Little People (but fraught with far more possibility...)  

How does Kelly have time for projects like this?! you may be wondering. Fair enough. I was perched at the kitchen island. My eldest was assisting me by sorting paintbrushes and lining up unpainted dolls. My baby was playing quite merrily inside the island, clanging muffin tins together.

 We have what I believe is called an "open plan" kitchen (though I would have no clue, really) - basically, my kitchen and family room sort of flow together as one large room. My two middle children (ages 2 and 4) were in the family room where I could both see and hear them as they played quietly together. I could only see the tops of their heads over the back of a sofa, but clearly they were happy getting along and not doing anything remotely dangerous. The house was super tidy. Dinner bubbled in the crockpot. A scented candle glowed in the midst of all.  I felt so good about the domestic harmony and peace abounding in my home. 

Suddenly, it all struck me as too good. Far too good.  My Spidey-senses started tingling. I knew that I had to see what the heck those two quiet kids were DOING as they huddled together in the family room. 

They were smearing Vaseline and water all over the seat of the new couch. 

I nearly lost my mind.

St Patrick, pray for them......

Anyway, back on a happier note......I'm trying to decide whether to give St Patrick a beard or not. I think he might end up looking like Jesus if I do give him one. I originally wanted to give him a tonsure but Richard didn't think the tonsure had been invented yet (so in lieu of that 'do, I bestowed the halo). When he's all done, he'll get a spray of high-gloss coating that renders him nearly indestructible to toddler boys. If my boys like these as much as my girls love the fabric saint pegs I made in New Zealand, it will be a very Merry Christmas  - if that Vaseline comes out of the sofa.

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