A house of ginger and memories made

Over the Thanksgiving weekend we gathered around the dining room table and attempted to interest Fuller in making a gingerbread house.

The kit was one my mom purchased in Ohio, but the baggage of how to actually make a gingerbread house was on the shoulders of me, my sister, and my mom. The memories of failed gingerbread houses of the past hung over us as Damon piped the icing and I placed the premade pieces in the spaces provided by the gingerbread house makers.

In previous years that we attempted the gingerbread house, the gingerbread was too heavy or too soft. In other years the icing was too runny and not stiff enough. I wasn't there the Christmas that my sisters made a noble attempt and had to use a hairdryer to dry the icing. I think it still fell apart.

The best gingerbread house I think I ever made was in elementary school when we "glued" graham crackers to pint sized milk cartons. The funnest part of that project was eating the gum drops. And the icing.

This particular gingerbread house, the one we completed this past Thanksgiving, is perfect. I don't know if it is because Fuller helped or because it had Damon's special touch, but there it is, sitting in my dining room and adding a touch of Christmas to our home. Everyonce in a while I get a whiff of the ginger and I know that Christmas is here again.