Like most people, I look forward to the day after Thanksgiving, for it seems to mark the official beginning of the Christmas season and that means it’s time to get a head start on making and/or purchasing gifts for others. To that end, I decided to shop locally and support the neighborhood craftsmen and merchants.

Stepping into the first shop, I knew immediately I had to splurge on the Beaver Works for our oldest son. He loves to get away from Boston and spend time at camp, and these brand-spanking new sculptures will certainly increase the waterfront view.

In the flower shop, I couldn’t resist a hot deal on the delightfully woody structure of an Evening Primrose, the perfect gift for Joan. That being said, I’ve decided to give it to her as a birthday present since today is her day of celebration. I’ll have to keep looking for her Christmas gift.

In the same shop, I found an ornament for the Christmas tree . . . like we need more ornaments. Maybe I’ll decide to give it to Joan instead. Like she needs more ornaments.

Around the corner from the ornaments, a perfect display of milkweed seeds with their parachutes about ready to be sent off in the breeze and immediately I thought of Juli who has planted a love of and curiosity about the natural world in her four children. What fun it will be to continue to watch them grow and blossom.

The kind saleslady in the shop offered my a sweet treat that made my heart smile for it was a snack that would be heaven sent . . . to my dad. Had he been with me, he would have stood by the bowl of red berries and consumed all of them. Dad was never one to pass by a rosehip without sampling a tasty treat.

Having traffic jams and overcrowded sidewalks to contend with, I moved cautiously to the next store, hoping to avoid too much mayhem along the way.

Stepping into the antique shop, I practically stumbled over Jinny Mae’s gift . . . a piece of split granite which bespoke the local history. Even though it’s about my town and not hers, she appreciates all tales of yesterdays.

At the next shop, I decided to search the racks and find something for Mom. Like Dad’s gift, it would also have to be heaven-sent, but it’s the thought that counts. Mom was a bargain hunter extraordinaire, so I had to make sure I had a coupon for whatever item I chose.

In seconds I spied one that had her name on it . . . literally. And, of course, she was a “ten.” After all, she was MY mom. Memories of hours spent fishing in Clinton Harbor flashed through my mind and I knew this one would definitely get added to the cart.

Exiting the last store, loud sounds greeted me, so I did my best to bee-line to their source. Though I didn’t quite understand what the ski shop was up to given that there was only a wee bit of snow in a couple of aisles, I found two groomers moving the white elephant merchandise around.

No matter, because I was drawn to that location, I found the perfect gift for our youngest son–a map of the mountain where by the age of three he was leaving me in the flakes as he glided straight down. I have to admit, I couldn’t wait another month and so I sent him this gift already. But, knowing how slow the mail is between Maine and New York City, he probably won’t get it until then anyway.

All the while, my head was spinning as I tried to think of a gift for my guy. And then, right before my eyes it appeared in the causeway gift shop and I knew instantly that he would love a photo of a little camp beside a lake that would remind him of ours.

In the same shop, I spied a playset that would have to be shared by three, Marita, Beverly, and Lucia. I knew they would recognize the meaning behind it and have visions of selling Peonies for Playgrounds so many years ago to purchase this very item. They’d also be pleased to note that though its location has changed, the only update appeared to be a shiny new center slide.

I smiled with this find for them, especially when I saw that the climbing wall was still intact.

Bedecked in Christmas colors, the gift shop had so much to offer including refreshing scents.

On one wall I spied another photograph–this one intended for my Sweden friends since it was of Moose Pond looking toward Black Mountain and Old City in their town.

For Dorcas, I discovered a fun item she might include in her next tracking book: a perfect walker biped.

Leaving the island gift shop behind, I soon entered the aquatic sports store where I knew I had to buy a stream for my great nephews. I know their mothers will not approve, but their fathers certainly will. Little boys love to play in water and who doesn’t want a stream of their own. I can already hear the boys’ giggles as they’ll look for crayfish and macroinvertebrates. and launch Pooh sticks and probably splash each other and . . . and . . . and I can get away with giving them this because I am their Great(est) Auntie. It doesn’t matter that neither is yet two years old. Nor does it matter that they can also be called my grand nephews . . . that would just make me their Grand(est) Auntie.

My last stop of the day was the ice sculpture store where I found one that I knew would tickle the fancy of Faith and Sara because they like to look for images within images. When I gift them this, I’ll suggest they might see a dragonfly. Knowing those two, they’ll challenge me with the vision of at least one more species.

I’m not much of a shopper, but did feel like I made some doorbuster purchases and I can check a few people off my list with the exclusive specials I snagged as the Black Friday deals stacked up in my cart.

Now it’s time to brew a cup of tea and get to the gift wrapping.