I’ve got Frank Sinatra’s song – ‘Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas’ running through my head.
Since yesterday – and all night long – every time I tossed and turned another stanza looped away in my head. It must have been the wine? (From now on, all our troubles will be miles away…make the yule-tide gay.)
Or all the cookies I baked? I only made two kinds and it’s taken me all week to finish. I guess I’m getting rusty now that I’m an empty nester? I hope the kids aren’t disappointed?
But they’re ready to plate and give as gifts for the kids. I’m so excited – they are coming home to fill our empty nest today (gather near to us once more)! I’m feeling an extra dose of the Christmas spirit knowing the house will be filled with noise other than the cats howling for snacks (through the years we all will be together).
Frankly, dear, I didn’t really want to go to all the work of making cookies this year. With just the two of us here to eat the cookies and I’m still on my DMSJ (dubious minimalist skinny jeans) diet, having fewer temptations sitting around is a really good idea.
Leading up to this week, every time I glanced at the recipe box sitting there all cute and inviting, I felt guilt rising.
So with my skinny jeans on reminding me of the goal of the season, I lifted the lid to look through the treasured recipes. One of these days, I tell ya, I need to weed this out – man o’ man, we have a lot of cakes and cookies recipes! Low and behold, I couldn’t find any low-calorie cookies. Damn.
After perusing (drooling) I caved – how could I NOT make cookies? (Here we are as in old days, happy golden days of yore). It’s tradition. And, I bought the stars already (hang a shining star upon the highest bough). I couldn’t throw another bag away this year. Yep, guilty, right before Black Friday, I found the bag I bought for last year (from now on, all our troubles will be out of sight).
So this week, I made an extraordinary-empty-nester-attempt and came through with two cookies for the platters. One I saw on Facebook – I don’t know about you, but some days the food videos are so addicting (if the fates allow). The Italian Ricotta Cookies looked delicious and fluffy (let your heart be light). And, of course, I had to bake one of our families favorites – the Brach’s Star Cookies without the Brach’s chocolates. Sorry, Brach, you didn’t make the cut. I bought the stars from Farm & Fleet on Black Friday – yeah, they sell candy, too. Go figure.
I just didn’t have it in me to make cut out cookies. I took the recipe out but put it back in the box. Maybe when I have grandkids instead of grand-kitties? Again, I can wait, I’m in no hurry girls – I still need to get used to the empty nest thing!
I knew if I’d make cut-outs I’d miss the kids too much. Just looking at the recipe card with all the fingerprints on it brought a little tear to my eye. And selfishly because they are a lot of fricken’ work. All guilt aside, I pulled the empty nester prerogative card while I decided on the effort I wished to extend at this time of year (faithful friends who are dear to us).
Hallelujah, the cookies turned out! I haven’t completely lost my baking touch. The Italian Ricotta cookies are extra moist. Not sure if that’s how they were supposed to be? They look like the picture. My husband warned me that I should let them chill longer before putting them in the container. Yeah, yeah, you were right – Merry Christmas, Hon! Every guy likes that gift for Christmas, no wrapping required either.
As I admired my handy work, my thoughts bounced back to when the kids were little. My, oh, my, they loved to help me roll the cut-out cookies and frost them. By the end of our baking escapades, I’d be just as tuckered out as they were. They’d have a sugar high (one must always eat the cookies that break while frosting) and I’d be tempted to grab a glass of wine to unwind. I was too tired to even lift a glass.
This year…well, let’s just say, a glass of wine was a new twist to icing the cookies.
May your homes be filled with joy, delicious cookies to share, and holiday love. Cheers to you, dear friends – sing it to us, Frank – “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas!”
