Gratitude is happiness doubled by wonder.
~ GK Chesterton

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Post-Christ the King

Just getting around to sharing my attempts to do cute things for Christ the King.

Before I unveil the Great Art, I must emphasize that I am not one of those bitter anti-Pinterest people. Back in the day, I would get annoyed at people who belittled the creative types when they performed small touches that made the world a prettier place. I remember being in a coffee shop, where our hot chocolate was served with decorative sprinkles on top of the whipped cream.  "Oh, how Martha Stewart," sneered the friend who must have felt inadequate for not thinking of sprinkling whipped cream herself. This kind of reverse snobbery has kicked into high gear now, with the online world sharing its collective artistic talent. Although I am not artistic, I am not bitter towards Martha Stewart or Pinterest. My artistic friends are not to feel that I am denigrating their talents in that overly-sensitive, anti-Pinterest manner. 

Not being artistically-inclined did hurt, once. Then I accepted it, begrudgingly. Now, I can laugh at myself without defensiveness. I try art; it doesn't always succeed. I move on. With that . . . 

Last Saturday, I was scanning the Catholic online world, looking for a clever way to impress upon my young children that Sunday would be Christ the King, the last Sunday in the Liturgical Year. I found: cookies! Given that I do not have a crown-shaped cookie cutter, nor would free-handing it with a knife be something I could do, I decided to make one big cookie crown.  And it turned out like this:

The gluten-free version didn't even try. It baked into one big puff:

I think I should have baked the dough as one long rectangle and then attempted to cut it into a crown shape.  This is how it looked, once I fixed it:

Wow.  Crowns.  I can hear the laughter.  And that's okay. Keeping it real on Irish Stew.

The design was based on the paper napkin rings my eleven-year-old made for the Christ the King dinner table. The napkin rings were lovely. Obviously, her generation has the gene that was given to others in my generation, as well as the preceding generations, even if said genes missed me.

And that is all right. We cannot all be artists. Otherwise there would be no patrons of the arts, right?

Happy end-of-the-liturgical year, friends!

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