Scenes from the 2015 Christmas Gift & Hobby Show


My wife and her grandmother hanging with their old pal Mr. C.

Each November my wife and I take her grandmother to Indianapolis’ own Christmas Gift & Hobby Show at the Indiana State Fairgrounds. Last Saturday when we dropped by, the event was on its 66th year; Mamaw is on her 90th. Most months, she leaves the house only when family or friends take her to church or the grocery, but the two of us enjoy driving her to two major events, where her brother works security and scores us free tickets. The Indiana Flower and Patio Show in March is her Super Bowl; the Christmas Gift and Hobby Show is her San Diego Comic Con.

Right this way for too-early Christmas photos!

Mamaw’s Christmas in November

Happy Stuffed Snowman!

“Merry Christmas! ‘Tis the season! Deck the halls! Buy me now! The wallet wants what it wants!”

Each year my wife and I take her grandmother to Indianapolis’ own Christmas Gift & Hobby Show at the Indiana State Fairgrounds. Now on its 65th year, the Show is always held in the first half of November, shortly after Halloween and well before Thanksgiving. Judging by popular internet sentiment, you’d think there would’ve been protesters marching outside, picketing and demanding it be postponed till the weekend following Thanksgiving or else. Judging by the steady crowds packing every aisle, apparently the average citizens don’t much care about popular internet sentiment. I’m surprised we didn’t receive word of a shutdown from the Christmas fire marshal.

Right this way for Christmas! Christmas! CHRISTMAS!

Wheelchair Adventure Requires Maniac Driver to Decelerate from 60 to 0

grandmother's wheelchairSaturday the 10th was my first day spent with a wheelchair. I tried to imagine the day beforehand, to anticipate the drawbacks and plan for every single troubleshooting scenario. I’m surprised I nailed most of them, but it was still a learning experience full of ups and downs. The day could have been much more painful and full of recriminations, had I not been blessed with a very patient, very grateful passenger.

One of the highlights each year for my wife’s grandmother is when the three of us spend a November Saturday together at the Indianapolis Christmas Gift and Hobby Show, a cavalcade of Christmas arts, Christmas crafts, Christmas edibles, and non-Christmas small businesses and hucksters held at the Indiana State Fairgrounds in one of their cavernous pavilions. It usually takes us a few hours to traverse the length of the pavilion several times to see all the booths, marvel at the decorations, overspend on a few choice items, and — always number one on Mamaw’s to-do list — have her watch batteries replaced at a specific jeweler’s booth. No one in all Creation is allowed to change her watch batteries except that one jeweler. Everyone else ever born will do it wrong.

Last summer, this once-hyperkinetic eightysomething dynamo took a nasty spill that left her wounded for a good while and reset her normal energy levels at a much lower bar. She’s having much more trouble getting around than she used to, and takes a little longer to perform her chores the way she wants them. Though she weighs under one hundred pounds, she still doesn’t have quite the endurance for supporting that frame around extensive distances. Excessive walking now leaves her winded and ready to call it a day. As her beloved Christmas Gift and Hobby Show drew near, she seriously doubted she could manage the day-long stroll that would entail, and had resigned herself to skipping the show, despite how many she’s attended, despite how much she looks forward to it every year. She feared attempting such a feat now would be the death of her.

Enter: the wheelchair.

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