I usually tell people that I’m closer to Bob Villa than Martha Stewart. And usually, that’s true. But not today. I spent today baking. The whole day. And I’m not finished yet. No, really. I am embracing my Inner Martha.
So far I’ve made several dozen sour cream spritz cookies in various shapes. These are not very sweet, and kind of biscuit-like. Tomorrow I will frost them with almond frosting, which will make them rock my world. I also baked up five or six dozen sugar cookies (I lost count), decorated with red and green sugar. Tomorrow not only will I frost the spritz cookies, but will also make a double batch of chocolate chip cookies.
Just what am I going to do with all these goddamned cookies, you ask? Well, I decided that I better get with the program and start being socially gracious. Not only does that include sending out Christmas cards – through the mail (not the e-mail kind) and on time, but I best show up bearing cookies to the neighbors. I have heard that others in the neighborhood do or have done this, so I better get on the stick and play ball.
So far, I figure I’ve got five households to gift:
There’s the couple across the street who have become our friends. They call us “The Newlyweds”, and the wife has been known to bring us lunch when she sees us working hard outside. The husband is very nice, and going through cancer treatment, so he has good days and bad days. We have come to really enjoy their company. They will get a plate of cookies for all their support and friendship, and because I truly believe that cookies, taken in the proper doses, can cure cancer.
The retired confirmed bachellor two houses over has twice brought us cookies he’s made when he was bored. We’ve spent a lot of time talking to him, and also enjoy his company. I’ll give him a plate for payback / thanks.
The little old man across the street and one house over will get a plate because he came over and helped us unload a truckload of boxes when we emptied our storage unit.
Our neighbors across the street are shut-ins. They both use walkers, and the wife has Alzheimer’s. Their daughter comes over several times a week to take care of them. She came over and introduced herself to us. I’ll give them a plate because, well, just because. They can’t get out, so maybe a little well-placed kindness will momentarily brighten their day.
The final plate will go to our next-door neighbors. They just got married too. They are the only ones on this block who even come close to our age. They seem like a lot of fun, and so far have kindly tolerated the noise from our dogs, kid and stereo. If that doesn’t deserve cookies, I don’t know what does.
In the next few days I will be flouncing all over the neighborhood handing out globs of fat, sugar, sugar and fat. I suspect this won’t last and I’ll revert back to my tool-bearing ways. But for now, move over Bob, Martha’s comin’ through.