If there’s any constant about this time of year, it’s that I’m in my woodshop making gifts. Until this year, that is.
By the time November rolls around, there are a few things I can count on: The weather is colder, I need to remember my anniversary, I will eat like a pig, and a disproportionate amount of shop time will involve making gifts. I cobbled together a sign a couple decades ago to keep people out of my shop during those times, so no surprises are ruined.
This year, however, I haven’t hung the sign at the entrance to my woodshop. I haven’t needed to, because for the first time I can literally remember I’m not making anything for anyone. Not that I wouldn’t want to, it’s just that this is the first time in memory that someone hasn’t hinted to me that they’d love to have one specific thing or another.
On the one hand, it frees up my time during a particularly busy few months of projects and assignments, so I’ve been able to work on all that uninterrupted. But on the other hand, it just feels wrong not to be making a handmade gift for someone this year. I’m not used to that.
I think that just for the heck of it, I’m going to take a break from work stuff for a couple days and make a few stocking-stuffer type gifts. They won’t be anything that anybody has asked for or would even expect. But they’ll be nice, and they’ll be handmade by me. And when I think about it, that’ll be a nice gift to myself.