In a house in the country, a house full of blue, there lived my dear mother, and my dear father, too.
They invited their daughters to come back for a visit, for a weekend of baking some cookies for Christmas.
It wasn’t just daughters, it was their daughters, too. So the blue house was full and the baking grew
to immense proportions, they baked this (bread)
and that (pork butt)
but the main thing that they baked was cookies, upon cookies.
For Christmas, you see, was a time of sweet eating, and the women must work and toil to be meeting
the grand demand for cookies more, from the men that they love and yes, even adore.
As we ladies stood in the kitchen to ponder, the men were sent out to wonder and wander,
just us girls remained to do what we do, to talk and to tease, and peel candies, too.
Sarah, a joy, Makayla was sweet, and blessed Naomi was happy to please.
We put these elfin girls to work, it was done with a grin, and a sneaky mouth to put extra bits in.
Walnut frosties were what this dear lady made first, and boy were they good we agreed in a burst.
This dear lady is me, I was wearing pink pants, and an apron to match them all by perchance.
Our unhappy dog was there, too, he was sick with the flu
or perhaps it was stitches that he wanted to chew.
No matter the reason, he was sad on this season, to be stuck in the house with such smells and a reason
not to partake, with a cone `round his neck.
So we sighed, poor dog.
Cookies, cookies, cookies galore, we did not stop, we kept making more
until each and every one of us felt very sick
and round, as we wielded our spatulas and trays, potholders, and recipe cards
and spun in circles not knowing what
to do next. Russian teacakes? Chocolate Crinkles?
Just keep baking!
Mixing and forming and dipping were we, with the cookies from the oven as warm as can be.
The boxes were filling to over-flowing
but still we girls kept on a going.
With spoons and sugar and lots of flours, we showed ourselves worthy of the glittering powers
to make magic in the kitchen for all those hours.
Christmas music was playing, the stove timer set,
and with it’s beeps not a cookie was burnt.
It was our own quiet miracle for which to give thanks.
But wait, what’s this appearance at the end of the day? But one of our brothers, with a beard like dear Santa’s, and a laugh that shook his belly like a bowlful of jelly!
It must be Saint Dave with a heart of good cheer, to help sis in the kitchen roll those peanut butter candies we hold dear!
And since he was there, with a willing heart, we enlisted his help with the camera
to take The Christmas Cookie Weekend Portrait,
of each willing worker, nine in all,
Amanda, Abigail, Naomi, Melissa,
Grace, Makayla, Shanda, Sarah,
(better known do us all as MOM, or GRANDMA)
We did a good job, if I say so myself,
but the best part of all was that we did it together,
each one of us crazy and silly and special ’tis true,
God’s love covers all so that we can say
Merry Christmas, dear ones and enjoy the cookies,
remember the time spent as you eat them, and smile, for I love you and you love me (we’re a happy family).
And now that I’m back home with my girls I must say,
the boys sure did like what we did on that day.
In fact I must tell you, and I’m telling this true,
my share of our cookies are
half gone, by this crew,