Santa Almost Got Coal Instead Of Cookies

I'm going to try and play this off as an adventure in parenting, but it is a little heartbreaking.

The final Cubscout Pack Meeting (the monthly meeting with all the scouts from 1st -5th grade) of the year was Friday. The plan was to go caroling around the neighborhood and then come back to the school for hot chocolate. Come one! Come all! Bring your families!

After the delusion of caroling (one woman, living in a house gloriously festooned with Christmas lights, I-kid-you-not opened her door, slammed it in our singing faces, and walked as far from her door as she could, probably to call the cops...some of whom were with us.) we came back to the cafeteria for cocoa when who should come in but...Santa Claus.

Several of the younger children (you know, the ones who still really believe) ran over to him with eager faces because he's more famous to them than the Wiggles, Thomas the Train and Barack Obama and he told them:

"Sorry guys! I only have presents for Cub Scouts!"

And at least three of these little guys burst into tears. My Vish dejectedly walked back to me and told me he hated Santa.

He hated Santa.

I almost burst into tears with him.

In a flash of parental wisdom I pulled him aside, away from all the shrieks of the older kids who were getting their gifts, and told him that this was not the real Santa. He was an Imposter pretend Santa and the real Santa was far too busy to drink watery hot chocolate and give out pinewood derby kits.

After the meeting, the Packmaster personally apologized to me and, for me, the whole thing has blown over.

But I wonder if it was one of those moments that Vish will remember forever.

Pinecone Derby

Among the other Christmas niceties like buying gift cards, discovering people don't like Starbucks (I know, right?!), buying other gift cards and watching the first season of Tru Blood while wrapping presents and knitting, I found this pinecone ornament tutorial.

And I realized that despite my Christmas tree having 427 natural pinecones (actually 419 because the very top of our tree broke off while we were trying to tie it to the car--the children learned some new words that day) I must make these.

Attempt number one, which was the one I made while baking cookies, shopping online, cleaning the house and watching Sookie Stackhouse devasating her natural supply of vitamin B12 (okay I was only doing one of those), was by far the worst looking one of the lot.

For starters, the egg is upside down:



I also didn't like so much color contrast and the "organic" feel of the scale layout. So I let the nerdy, mathy side of me take over and produced more:







I fear I can't stop. Except I must stop so I can knit (more) slippers.

The Stockings are Hung

I decided everyone is getting socks for Christmas.

Next year.

This year my sock selection committee narrowed it down to three contendors:

Vish's teacher. Who is a knitter but is scared of socks.



Someone who occasionally reads this blog, So shall remain nameless (it's not you)(maybe next year).


(Yes they're that vivid)

Enlarged to show texture:



Someone who never wears socks, but has entirely too much sock yarn in her stash. She also likes green, has requested hair elastics from Santa, and hasn't blogged for over a month. She's also happy she decided to shave her legs this morning before an impromptu photo shoot.





What?

Basic sock pattern. Plymouth Yarn Sockotta; wool, cotton, nylon.
Ripple Weave Socks by Charlene Schurch. Brown Sheep Nature Spun Fingering; wool.
Lace Socks by Star Athena. Knit Picks Rissata, Cotton, wool, elastic.