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Gifting that won't get you down

The power of many — and one
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The snow line is creep, creep, creeping down the mountainsides; the days are creep, creep, creeping toward Christmas. And if you're my mom or a regular reader of this column, you'll know that this time of year I turn into the Queen of Gifts That Disappear and Our Lady of Gifts That Support Starving Artists.

In a Christmas nutcracker kind of nutshell, that means non-durable gifts that haven't been plucked from a 5-km long factory in one of Edward Burtynsky's Manufactured Landscapes and transported in orange shipping containers 20,000 nautical miles to Vancouver from, say, Shanghai's Yangshan port — the busiest container port in the world, which mercilessly outnumbers Santa's sled each year by about 25 million to one.

Now that we've all been re-gifted to death, it's time to seriously dig into thoughtful options. After all, how many gift laps has that glass-encrusted wine stopper made, anyway? (You don't even drink wine!)

Mid- to late November is crafty heaven for all kinds of hand-made gifts stuffed with imagination and flair. For next year, put a perpetual note in your iPhone or calendar if you missed this year's flock: Pemberton Arts Council's MADE celebration and Crafty by Nature in Pemberton; Whistler Arts Council's Bizarre Bazaar; the annual Christmas Craft Fair and Squamish Nation Craft Fair in Squamish; and the big momma of all craft fairs, Circle Craft Christmas Market in Vancouver.

But a few good craft fairs are still to come. For one, the Shiny Fuzzy Muddy Show at Heritage Hall on Main Street in Vancouver, December 10–11, is a sure-fire bet for great gifts and maybe one or two cool things you can wrap up and put under the tree for yourself in case Santa gets hit by one of those massive container ships. (Pemberton's own Frances Felt, a.k.a. Frances Dickenson, is a founding member of Shiny Fuzzy Muddy.) You can also find many of the same artists online or at Etsy.com.

But if crafty items aren't your thing, how about those other gift-fairy favourites — things your giftee can eat, drink, slather over his or her bod and feel like a million bucks, or otherwise enjoy without adding another kilo to those shipping containers or landfill, or another gram of guilt to anyone's conscience.

No money? Give the gift of time — your time — and talent. Make up homemade gift certificates giving something you're good at, say, 20 hours of gardening time for someone who's plant-challenged. Kids can give hours of their digital savvy to folks adrift in computerland.

An old seasonal chestnut — the Twelve Days of Christmas — offers more inspiration.

The beauty of this timeless folk song, which came from France some 300 years ago, is that it highlights the power of two concepts that are polar opposites: multiples and singularity.

A gift idea that might seem puny or lacking originality on its own can become a dynamite gift in multiples.

My dad loved those licorice cigars with the red sprinkles on the "lit" end that you used to buy for a nickel. So one year my mom went to the Palace of Sweets in Edmonton and talked them into selling her a whole damn box of the things. When dad opened it, it was as thrilling as finding a pirate's chest stuffed with gold coins you can run your hands though, versus a plastic bank card.

More power of multiples: Anyone can grab a box of chocolates at the drugstore for their chocoholic buddy. But instead of 12 drummers drumming, how about 12 Whistler Pocket Chocolate bars?

First off, there's something deliciously naughty about buying a dozen chocolate bars at once. Or a whole case of them goes for 90 bucks on the website. Now that's a statement!

Stack them up in a bundle, alternating the varieties so the labels make a striped effect on the sides. Tie them up four-square with a nice satin ribbon. (Some of the most pleasing and sensual ribbon — and easiest to use — comes from fabric stores. Plus satin and grosgrain ribbons can be ironed and used again.)

Instead of six geese a-laying, how about six boxes of Whistler's own Namasthé Tea Co.'s wonderful teas? Or six bottles of Whistler Cooks' yummy vinaigrettes and sauces, or Nona Pia's Balsamic Reductions — two of each of their three delicious flavours. Or six pounds of coffee from local roasters, Mark Beavan of Whistler Roasting Company, or Paula Robertson of Pemberton Valley Coffee Co.

Again, buying something by the six's that you usually buy as a single item gives it pow.

Show off your natural side by arranging them face up in a lidless, plain cardboard box cut flush to show off their catchy labels. Pack the edges with scrunched up unbleached paper, those curly wood shavings, or — if you can get your hands on some — fresh, clean straw. Tuck in a fragrant nosegay of pine or cedar tied with one of your new satin bows, et voilà — originality with impact and a Canadiana touch.

As for that partridge in a pear tree, you can't go wrong with singularity.

The simple power of one can make a precious gift any time of year. A beautiful single loaf of homemade bread — banana bread, date bread, good old bread-bread — wrapped in a lovely linen tea towel and placed in a basket that can be used again and again is the polar opposite of "Made in China" or "Ordered from Amazon."

And while it's the wrong time of year for a pear tree to be planted, a small evergreen in a pot can be especially welcome. One year I received one as a gift, and shunted it outside then back indoors for many Christmases before giving it a home in the ground.

Stop and think for a moment. I'll bet you can come up with even better ideas of what to give and how to present it that say "you" and "love" in a wonderfully thoughtful way. Now that's the real power of giving.

Glenda Bartosh is an award-winning freelance writer who goes for "the overlooked" in life.