Bazaar [Adventure]

 

[Adventure 140]

There are 219 days until Christmas, in case you're wondering. Why, then, am I posting something that looks awfully Christmassy? It's most likely because, as the Sesame Street song tells us, we're to "keep Christmas with you all through the year." And because I was going through a box of old photos at my parents' house recently. 

There was this thing that happened once a year - a thing that we were not to speak of unless absolutely necessary. When speaking about it, it was not to be called by name, as that would be too traumatizing to a certain member of my family (hi Mom!). For a while it was simply referred to as C.B. but even then, it struck fear in the heart of the non-crafty. So we would say the words while somewhat violently swiping our hands across our mouths as to distort them into something unrecognizable. To this day, it feels strange saying those two words together out loud.

Christmas Bazaar.

Here is a photo of my mom at the Chiofdrioijfsofs Bmmouar, You can tell by the look on her face that she's having as great of a time as you'd think she would, considering her great love for the event. 

What was more distressing than the actual event was the creation of the items for the event. Somehow, every year, my mom would agree to participate. Some years we even had a group of moms at our house crafting away. My mom made tribead and pipe cleaner candy cane ornaments one year and styrofoam and fabric scrap patchwork ball ornaments another. 

This entire concept always fascinated me. It seemed to my young self that the process went like this:

1. Parents mutter strange things under their breath while making a bunch of Christmassy and other things to sell at the Crickets Bazooka. 

2. Parents give their children money and take them to the Chimney Baker.

3. The children buy the items from the Criminey Bonkers and then gift them to their parents and siblings and other family members.

4. People hold on to these items for years because their children gave them to them, even though they don't really want them anymore.

So basically parents put money and effort into making the stuff for an event where they have to give money to their children to pay for stuff other people have made - or even that they themselves have made. I'm sure the joyful crafters loved every second. The not-so-crafty, not so much.

I do have to say that one thing I bought at the Chunky Baboon that I treasured for years was a felt monkey puppet. I can still picture what it looked like, and even remember the moment I first laid eyes on it. It provided endless hours of fun for my fertile imagination.

And I made both tri-bead and pipe cleaner candy canes and patchwork balls with my children at one point years ago. And clothespin people. After all, the Event-That-Must-Not-Be-Named was one of the things I loved most about Christmastime. Just looking at the photos evokes the excitement of seeing all the Christmas treasures, the joy of the gift selection process, the grown up feeling of paying with money myself, and the knowledge that Christmas was just around the corner.