Clean the apartment to within an inch of its life...nope
Change the big girl sleigh bed...nope
Wash, dry, fold, and put all of the laundry away...nope
Read the papers cover to cover...nope
Menu plan and grocery list...nope
Kit up new stitchy project...nope
Buy Christmas cards...nope
Drive around and look at Christmas lights...nope
Organize baking supplies...does stacking it all up on the counter count?
Bake several different kinds of treats and cookies...I don't want to talk about it.
Deep condition hair...maybe. I got butter in it by mistake.
Can anybody tell me why I do this to myself every year? Poor Magoo was subject to me bashing about and cursing a blue streak as I tried to do a forced-festive day of making my mom's damn Greek cookies.
Every year I tell myself that it's going to be different, and every year I inevitably feel very much like Charlie Brown missing the bloody football and ending up flat on my back with stars swirling around my poor round head.
Now before you tell me that there are literally thousands of recipes out there for these damn Greek cookies, not a single one of them will be written on the back of Lazarus department store receipt in my mom's beautiful handwriting, and not one of them will call for "a whole box of Swan's Down cake flour" or "get the dough so it isn't sticky".
I'm going to master these some day, I swear to you. I might be 107 and completely unable to stand upright, but as God is my witness (she says while shaking her dough-ladden fists to the sky), I will have Greek cookies for Christmas and they will be good!
(At least somebody likes them...)
As soon as I can stand up again, I am going to take a hot scrubby shower and hit the Happy Chair for some stitchy time before bed. I have to get up at the crack 'o dawn to go see the surgeon who created Buzzy, so I want to make sure to be rested and refreshed to receive whatever news he has to deliver.
I hope your Sunday was swell, Dearies! If you made your own damn cookies today I hope they were perfectly delicious and that you are enjoying something lovely with them under a cozy blanket! Come tell me all about it!
Mine is Mother’s chocolate chip cookies. Pinch some salt between your fingers.... written in her handwriting on her 1950’s vintage recipe card. I am 60+ and still they are perfect hockey pucks! Hers were amazing melt in your mouth goodness. I totally get it.
ReplyDeleteConi dear they look perfectly scrumptious. That's a great recipe from your mother your very lucky to have it. I wish I had one from my mom & a handful of your cookies too 😘
ReplyDeleteMine is my mom's meatloaf written in her beautiful script on a super used, greasy recipe card that states "From Shirley's Kitchen". Last year I decided to have it framed behind glass so that it wouldn't get any worse. I have it hung on the kitchen wall above the light switch where I can see it every single day.
ReplyDeleteWhat a lovely idea!
DeleteConi, the cookies look fabulous and bet are/were quite tasty. Praying for your visit with Buzzy's creator tomorrow.
ReplyDeleteThe cookies certainly look good. What was wrong with them? Hope your visit with the Buzzy specialist goes well.
ReplyDeleteMegan
Sydney, Australia
They look amazing! It's such a lot of effort though isn't it?! I hate the clearing up bit, I always seem to have used every pan and surface in the house. I hope they taste as delicious as they look! Now time to rest!
ReplyDeleteThey look lovely!
ReplyDeleteI didn't make cookies. I made my Deliciously Decadent Bourbon Cherry Chocolate Sauce. No swearing. No hair pulling. Of course, bourbon helps with that. Came out mostly as planned. All 16 jars of it!
ReplyDelete