This morning we woke up to 5 degrees Celsius. Pippa thinks the time has come for Santa to come and visit, although I have been telling her is weeks away she won't believe me. She sits by the window, most days, ready to be called into action.
This inclination has nothing to do with presents, at least not for herself. She wants to be one of Santa's elves and to that matter keeps a handy list of all the things she could contribute to the wintry workshops of St. Nicholas:
- I could sweep floors. Are they mosaic, wooden or earthen floors…I wonder?. Well, I could sweep them floors.
-I make a mean hot chocolate, and also tea. Not much of a baker, but I could fetch viandes, sweetmeats and preserves from the larder. Do you think there are any vegan elves at the shoppe? Because I have an aunt who is a vegan so I'm familiar with dietary restrictions.
- Quality control could be my department. I would set aside any doubtful works of wooden sculpture, or dolls that ought to cause nightmares instead of sweet dreams. I could set them aside and work on them on my spare time and have them ready for the big day. Should I say big night instead? Surely. I rephrase.
- If elves want to keep their outfits fashionably frayed, I could do that! No problem. Just give me a knitting needle and I will set to work. I would also need scissors. None of them useless round-top ones with plastic handles. Perish the thought! ones like the heavy ones you use and store under key. One of them babies.
Pippa goes on and on. Trying different job descriptions and improving on her resumé. I've tried asking her why she wants to help Santa, and one of the many answers I am offered is that he carries the burden of centuries and someone ought to throw him a bone. Not very poetic, but there you have it.
"What you ought to do, little girl, is straighten your collar and perk up those braids. We have enough work to do around here, for you to go on gallivanting to the north pole. Besides, a red topper doesn't qualify as proper wintry attire, you are going to freeze all those strawberries on your outfit. Surely." I say with a bit of a tone. She mumbles.
"Nonsense. One must look the part, I say. If Santa sees me wearing my red hat, he will know. I'm sure of it. He will know I am ready to help out and will take me with him. Maybe I should do something crafty to demonstrate my abilities. Come on Fabs, be a dear and help me gather some pine cones."
And so it begins, the seasonal crafting that the dolls and children adore. Who am I kidding, I live for it. I love the changing seasons, the dried pods and flowers, the surprising greens. The cooler weather that makes me wear hand knits and calls for hats at all times. Hot cinnamon tea and chocolate, frothy mugs warming hands. The wood stoves chiming away their joyful song, and jolly faces welcoming you with lavish hospitality, a.k.a. the foods of the season. Pippa and I are going to craft a little pine cone garland, to advertise her handiwork in palpable ways. I hope you too manage to sneak away some time to start the ever-so-freaking-exciting "preparations". See you soon.
**Pippa is a custom figlette, and every other day or so I will show the silly attire she put together for herself and her new mom.