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The jolly gift of the season, for me, is to have friends with oodles, sheer oodles, of talent just ah-flowing out of their gills (so to speak).  Last year I posted about how some buddies and I got together to make Shrinky-Dink Christmas ornaments (which, in turn, led to Shrinky-Dink Caldecott jewelry later in the year).  This year we upped the ante, so to speak.

So I was sitting in my office, minding my own business, when the mail arrived.  And not just any mail either.  Big mail.  Big flat mail.  Big flat mail that had a very prominent bakery sticker on the outside.  I got very excited when I saw that.  Tis the season for chocolate goodies, yes?

No chocolate awaited me inside (well, maybe a little chocolate).  What I found instead was a remarkable little gingerbread house kit, complete with a copy of the latest Scaredy Squirrel title Scaredy Squirrel Prepares for Christmas.  Inside was a handy dandy builder’s permit (made out to me!), pre-made frosting, gingerbread, the works!

Knowing that I had a Christmas party in my home coming up I schlepped it to my apartment and waited until this past weekend to start construction.  Not that I constructed a darn thing. Nope.  Say hello to the foreman in charge of this project, Josh Ess.

Some of you may remember Josh as the husband of the illustrious Lori Ess and the man who single-handedly saved an Eric Carle Museum program that featured Anita Silvey (amongst others) when its computer went on the fritz.  Turns out, the man does a mean edible arrangement.  This may have something to do with the fact that he is a professionally trained chef.  Perhaps.

The first problem we had with the house turned out to be the biggest.  At some point in its travels, the body of the house had cracked.

So yes.  We were dealing with a crack house.  Josh put the crack house together as best he could and you can see the clever patching job done with frosting.  Still, things were looking dire.  Particularly when it was discovered that the roof didn’t really fit either.  This called for creativity!!  Step #1: Place gumdrops where the house would normally connect.

Step #2: Stick everything in place with copious frosting.

Step #3: Place other portion of roof on top without toppling everything like a house of cards.

Ta dah!  With some effort the house started to perk up a bit.  Josh even arranged the faux M&Ms on the top in a rainbow pattern.

Now it was time to decorate.  And who better to help with that feature than graphic novelist Gareth Hinds?  You may remember him from such graphic novel Shakespearan adaptations as King Lear, or his work on The Odyssey and Beowulf.  He’s got a killer Romeo & Juliet out in the future, and a very fine hand on hiding the cracked doorway of the house going on here.

Not that Josh wasn’t a remarkable piper when it came to the frosting.

That is the advantage of doing a house like this.  When you make a mistake, you eat the cement.

Ta dah!!  A happy home for all to see.

But what really sealed the deal for me was Josh’s attention to fine details that would have gone unnoticed had someone not pointed them out.  When we weren’t looking he took the Tootsie Rolls that came with the house, some frosting and some toothpicks and made . . . a reindeer!!

Then later in the evening, that same reindeer morphed into Rudolph.

That is what happens when you separate the gingerbread men from the gingerbread boys, son.  Josh, you are the undeniable gingerbread king.

Others have received this same house in the mail.  If you want to see the full roster you can see them on the Scaredy Squirrel Facebook Page.  The blog Pickle Me This actually put the darn thing together using the instructions and ALL the ingredients.  Other blogs followed suit.  Go here or here if you want to see what it was supposed to look like.

After that there was nothing for it but to make a couple Christmas ornaments with whatever picture book characters I happened to have hanging around my living room.  This year the winners included:

Me Want Pet by Bob Shea – ornament created using markers (!!!!) by Alison Morris

Flora’s Very Windy Day by Jeanne Birdsall, illustrated by Matt Phelan – ornament created by Lori Ess using only colored pencils

Humpty Dumpty from the Will Moses Mother Goose – ornament created by Josh Ess

Dick Tracy by my very own resident husband Matt.

And a Sumo wrestler  – ornament created just off the top of his head on a spur of the moment whim by Gareth Hinds.  It was not traced.

If you do not have a tiny Sumo wrestler on YOUR tree, I pity you.

I cannot thank my guests enough for such a fantastic party.  Thanks to Alison Morris, Gareth Hinds, Lori Ess, John Ess, and Matt for helping to make this the bestest Christmas ever.  Special thanks to Alison for the bulk of these fabulous pictures.

And thanks to the folks at Kids Can Press for allowing me the chance to make a house of my very own with absolutely zero effort on my own part.

Finally, my own offspring.  Suited up to fit the holidays.

Just stay home. Please.

Find something else to do.

Each year I do this event, which features more than 60 amazing children’s book authors and illustrators, and it’s always such a disappointment. For starters, check out some of the people who’ll be there, and you’ll understand why I’m so bummed:

Tony Abbott, Nora Raleigh Baskin, Nick Bruel, Bryan Collier, Katie Davis, Bruce Degen, Jean Craighead George, Charise Mericle Harper, Susan Jeffers, Peter Lerangis, Gail Carson Levine, Carolyn MacCullough, Rafe Martin, Wendy Mass, Matthew McElligott, Helen Perelman, Wendell Minor, Gloria Pinkney, Lizzy Rockwell, Todd Strasser, Mark Teague, Jean Van Leeuwen, Eric Velasquez, Sarah Weeks, Ed Young, and more.

Why so down-in-the-dumps you ask? Because I never get to talk to any of them. I never get a chance to meet the new (to me!) people, like Will Moses (Mary and Her Little Lamb), Lena Roy (Edges), Daniel Kirk (Library Mouse), Peter Brown (You Will Be My Friend!) . . .

. . . and Jerry Davis (Little Chicken’s Big Day). Who are these people? Might they become my new best pals? Um, not likely! Because they are sitting at tables forty feet away, surrounded by happy children, shopping grandparents, and strong-armed educators, hauling bags of books like Sherpa guides.

Best I can do is throw rocks at ‘em.

And, oh, hey, look over there, it’s Jean Craighead George. She’s only a freakin’ legend. I can’t throw rocks at Jean Craighead George. She’ll throw them back — and her arm is a bazooka.

Oh,  wait.  Here’s old friends like Mark Teague and Helen Perelman and Peter Lerangis. Can I talk to any of them? Can we hang out? Maybe shoot the breeze? Commiserate?

Nooooooo. I’m too busy signing books, meeting young readers, gabbing with families, prostrating myself before the cheerful & smiling hordes.

Writing is a solitary business, folks. And it’s frustrating for me to sit there at gorgeous Sunnyside . . .

. . . just feet away from my peerless peers, and never have a free minute to chat with them.

So my dream is for just one year, nobody comes. No book sales, no signings, no musicians, no storytellers, no-bah-dee. Just us authors, finally (finally!) enjoying a few moments when we can hang out and complain about the crappy jobs our publishers do with publicity and marketing. It’s how we bond. We bitch and moan about Kindles.

So this coming Sunday, clean the garage, watch football, wax the car. But if you insist on coming . . . click