attack of the killer gingerbread

Last weekend, we had our annual gingerbread decorating party. (Well, it was the second year. But it was never meant be an annual sort of thing, and this year people brought props, so I think it might be turning into a Thing.)

It's pretty amazing, how certain ... personality traits come to the fore. You take a room full of perfectly reasonable adults, and for some reason all the gingerbread houses turn out like this:


(I told you they brought props)

... or like this:


In case the latter seems innocuous to you, here's a close-up of the two amiable gingerbreadmen at the front of the house:



Yes. It is a gingercide in freeze-frame. Last year we also had the "CSI House," and a horrific "Katrina in New Orleans" house.

Then there is the house that was built by my invitation-only team. (Invitation-only because I think there are very few people who would have the patience to be as anal-retentive as we obviously are.)


Front view, and back view.


This took about six or seven hours. I mean, there were other things in between, including some fairly silly carolling, and a lot of it was waiting time for the mortar frosting to dry enough for our effects, but still. You may notice that the colour pattern of tiling on the roof match on both sides, as do the mini M&Ms surrounding the circular "window." And just look at that old-fashioned wood piling fence, not to mention the woodpile itself. And then remember that, of the two main perpetrators, one was drinking eggnog with something like 25% alcohol content, and the other was drunk on champagne. (That would be me. Somewhere around my second glass, I frosted the roof on — upside down.) We are superstars, is what I'm saying.

Next year we are thinking about tackling something from The Gingerbread Architect. Just think about what we could do wtih the Tudor Revival house — or the New York Brownstone! I've always wanted a brownstone. We just have to recruit someone else to do the baking.