A few weeks ago, I said to a dear friend who for these purposes shall remain nameless, “I have a theme this year! It’s a Homemade Christmas, Darn It!”

Without skipping a beat, she replied, “Me, too! Mine is It’s a Half-Assed Christmas.”

By last night, I had to admit that my theme has officially changed to, “It’s a Half-Assed Homemade Christmas, Darn It!”

There are three indie craft fairs in Phoenix this weekend, all featuring stuff far cooler than I could ever hope to make, and here I am, clinging to beads and embroidery floss for dear life, desperately avoiding the life rafts of big piles of gift cards that keep floating by.

Why? Money, naturally, but of course, I had to admit that’s not really it, as I handed over my debit card in Jo Ann’s Fabrics the other night. (That’s a place I’ll never return, by the way; I swear the clerk could smell the fear on me.)

It’s not really about money. I’ve spent far too much on supplies already to get away with that one. It’s about that whole back to basics, creative expression, show the person how much you really care with something you’ve made yourself thing.

Or so I told myself as I closed my 23rd jar of limoncello the other night. Really, I think it’s about the fact that this time every year, I go a little crazy.

Now I must go — I have to make my attempt to trace Annabelle’s drawings onto paper so I can iron that onto fabric for an embroidery project I can already tell will be disastrous.

Maybe a better attitude would help. Someone should come up with “The Secret” for the crafting world.

Oh wait, they already did. Gift cards.