|Her version of reclusing after the traumatic trip to the vet.|
Round one was a flop. The roll out sugar cookies--a disaster. They didn't even make it to the pan, they crumbled. (insert sad face)
Today, we're making ginger snaps. My friend Doris had given me as easy and delicious recipe that was a go-to. This year, we are crossing fingers with a recipe in a book called Against the Grain. Christmas music is playing. The windows are open. There's a delightful drizzle.
Anita's grandson drove up with Anita as a passenger. Didn't my heart soar?
They came in and sampled cookies straight from the oven. Jake played a playful tune on the piano. Nella greeted them with waggy tail, and then I remembered my heart for hospitality that somehow has been buried beneath preoccupation.
|I love them|
|Trying not to be in the frame|
|What about me?|
|She LOVES rocks!|
|Yes. And the perfect size for a mama-size cuppa|
I'm excited for 2016 in a way that's probably like my kids' feelings today, this eve of Christmas. Because you know something good will happen, and a joy because of Jesus, and things around you that get into your memory and fill your heart. Like cinnamon rolls, but in 2016, it will be the memories we make.
I was walking around outside in a baggy tank top and distressed jeans, cuffed. Cookie boxes packed up and cards signed, awaiting delivery. Tonight, the return of Christmas nachos, and I get a second performance of the Christmas service at church--this time from the vantage point of camera 2.
Erin went with me to deliver cookies and wine. She wanted to be the one to take the bags up to the doors. And I couldn't help smile as she skipped back to me, that she will remember these days and that maybe one day she'll bake cookies for her neighbors too. (Rock the love, mini me.)
Maybe it's the extra sleep. Maybe it's the sugary cookies. Maybe it's the warmer temps. Maybe it's Christmas. But the joy is definitely Jesus. I didn't send out a newsletter with the holiday card this year. I just couldn't get it all together, and that seems to be the norm for 2015. And that's ok. Friends reading here are in the know. And the ones around my table, even more so.
Merry Christmas, friends. Thankful for you in our lives--however you've touched us, you are a part of our story (and by reciprocation, we are a part of yours).