Cinnamon Factory

I am not a crafty person. Oh, I have creative juices flowing, and I think I have an eye for beauty, but my hands are not my friends when I work with just about anything. I try not to blame it on being left-handed. I just don't have much patience for material objects of any kind.

Case in point. Earlier this week, I thought on a whim that my daughter could use a break from motherhood so she could get her house cleaned for the holiday coming up. So I offered to take my two granddaughters for a few hours in the afternoon and work with making some little gifts to give to those coming for Thanksgiving.

We did ornamental, scented cookies made with applesauce and cinnamon. Someone had told me about them and they sounded easy enough for my handicraft-challenged hands. Plus I saw on the internet how you could make a heart with two candy canes and pour melted chocolate in them, and just let them harden in the refrigerator. Keep in mind, I wasn't just thinking of keeping it simple for two eager toddlers. It had to be easy for me too.

To make a long story short, I've spent hours this week tying tiny ribbons on these cookies and assembling some gift boxes to put them in, filling bags with the candy cane hearts, writing on tags and putting them on the bags. Not to mention having my house smell like a cinnamon factory all week as the cookies dry out.

I've come to the conclusion that my gift of patience comes easier with people than it does with things. So, this evening, as I labored over the finishing touches of this project, I have been conjuring up images of the smiles on my granddaughters' faces as they distribute the little boxes to their guests tomorrow. That will be reward enough for my madness.

Grandma's lil' workshop table