Episode 21 Christmas, 2015, Fremont
The Christmas cakes and cookies have been baked, and the cards were made and sent on time for a change, the presents bought and wrapped. I’m feeling pretty good about Christmas this year instead of having a near panic attack as is usually the case. But one thing I’m not making this year, or maybe ever, is another Christmas gingerbread house.
We made some pretty limp attempts when our children were small, but one year when the grandchildren arrived, I went all out and built the world’s biggest, most fabulous three-story gingerbread Victorian mansion ever imagined by man or child.
It stood about 18 inches high, and the gingerbread was totally covered with either frosting or candy. It was beautiful beyond belief and everything a gingerbread house should be.
At the annual Christmas party it was the hit of the evening and as its architect and builder, I glowed with pride. It stood on its own separate table in the place of honor, but unfortunately, I have lost the photos I took of it from every angle, so you will just have to take my word for it.
When the season was over, we carefully lifted this enormous confection and lovingly packed it away till the following year. We protected it with tissue paper and bubble wrap, and carefully sealed the cardboard container against dust and dirt in the attic.
The following Christmas, while taking down the collection of holiday decorations, I opened the large cardboard box to find—–nothing.
Going downstairs, I asked my husband, Dr. Advice, what he had done with the gingerbread house. Just as puzzled as I, he looked into the box and found instead of a glorious gingerbread house, one or two pieces of candy. Nothing else–just two pieces of candy.
As we all know, it gets pretty cold and lonely outside for a small mouse, and our mouse obviously has a sweet tooth as well, so who can blame him for seeking shelter in a warm box containing an irresistible feast fit for a king, and even inviting some friends over for a snack or two? Not I.
12 thoughts on “THE YEAR THE MOUSE ATE THE GINGERBREAD HOUSE Kate’s Journal”
Yes, mice too like to celebrate and when the cat is away, mice dance in the gingerbread-house. Everybody knows that.
They even invite some rough visitors to join them—brother rat. You can’t trust them, At least they aren’t drinking, although I did notice a definite reduction of the powdered milk carton. Well, they aren’t getting any gingerbread from me this year.
Yikes. Mice are cute in Christmas books but not so much in our houses!
What we needed was a big tough “Watch Cat” instead of a “Wanna Be Jack Russell”.
There once was a gingerbread house
that gave way to a Christmas-crazed mouse.
As the staircase gave way,
the mouse paused to say,
“I fear I’m a bit of a louse.”
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I’m laughing out loud! Love it.
Wonderful story and a wonderful painting. A three-story Victorian gingerbread mansion! It’s gone, but it lives on in your memories and our imaginations.
It makes me so happy to instill that ill-fated gingerbread house in your imagination. It still lives in my heart.
Once again, a charming story, Kayti.
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Thanks so much Janet!
I love your painting. Boy, do we miss our cat this year. And thanks for making those gingerbread houses for all those years..I’m amazed you had the enthusiasm and energy to build them year after year.
But the most fun were the cookie baking sessions with all of you kids being creative.