Wednesday, April 15, 2015

Don’t Choke On Your Cookie

It’s a cold, wet, grey day today and seeing a snowflake or two mixed in with the rain reminded me about shoveling snow which reminded me how sad Dean must feel since he can’t feed his snow-shoveling obsession now that we’ve  moved to Sheridan.  Oh, I suppose he could shovel our rocked driveway and parking area but it would take him about three days, and why would he anyway, when our very nice neighbor plows it out with his tractor? Sadly, all he can shovel is about a 10 foot square section of pavement at the bottom of the front porch, and the back deck which, hey, now that I think about it, he never shovels.  I shovel the back deck.  Does that mean he really wasn’t obsessed with shoveling after all, but only lusted after snow-free pavement?  OR does that mean he only seemed obsessed over shoveling our driveway in Casper because he didn’t like the way I shoveled?  I know he didn’t – like the way I shoveled – because he would always go back over any portion I cleared, slowly and methodically scraping his shovel under every tiny bump of snow I left.  And then, even though the newly shoveled driveway and sidewalk were practically snowflake free, he would sweep them!  But that obsession is behind us now, replaced with his pruning obsession.

Oh, yes.  He didn’t stop with the cottonwood trees.  He moved on to the chokecherry forest. 

Last summer I’d hacked, slashed, whacked carefully pruned the parts that came close to putting my eye out every time I mowed.  This week Dean decided to take care of the branches that were hanging over the fence and, as long as he was at it, cut out the dead wood.

Unfortunately his pruning obsession involved me – again.  I had to pull cut limbs through eye-gouging, skin scratching branches which pulled out hunks of my hair, grabbed at my clothes, got tangled in the limb I was dragging out, and gave me lots of chances to practice the words Dean used when his baby chainsaw threw off it’s chain – again and again and again.  I dragged those limbs (and my exhausted shaky-legged body) to the slash pile somewhere between 572 and 1,529,023 times. And the worst thing about it?  There were no cookies waiting for me at the end.  Again.

But that’s okay.  I made up for it today because yep, today I baked.  For my bees.  The two replacement windows for my sewing room finally arrived yesterday and Troy and Darrin buzzed on over this morning to install them. These windows were so loose they rattled every time a car drove by and if you slid those little tabs at the top to the side, the window would fall out.

Since I wouldn't be seeing them anymore after today I thought I’d send them off with not only the lemon crinkle cookies which were a big hit last time they were here, but also Magic Cookie Bars.

Of course before I gave them the plate of cookies I had to eat taste-test one or two or, heck, I don’t know…. a bunch.  It was kind of strange and a little sad knowing everything was now finished and I wouldn't see them again.  But guess what?  I will!  Because one of the windows had a broken pane.

Can you believe that?  I’m sure it arrived that way and my bees had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that they will now need to come back to replace the pane in two or three weeks.  As they were leaving, Troy sighed and wistfully told me that of all the cookies I’d made, today’s lemon cookies and the rum balls I’d made when he was first here installing our upstairs windows, nearly  a year and a half ago, were his two favorite.

And Darrin asked me for the lemon cookie recipe.  Oh..........gosh, you don't think they’re developing a cookie obsession ..... do you?  



Art Elser said...

How many times did the bees have to hit that window pane before it cracked like that? I hope they didn't throw a cookie at it to do that or a Magic Cookie Bar. Perhaps it was the magic in the cookie bars that cracked that window.

Abby said...

I'm hoping I'm done with salivating every time I open one of your posts ;-)