Having a daughter who loves to bake is a blessing. She bought ingredients for five different kinds of cookies last night. She started out with Joel's assistance, and then he dropped out. I took his place after wrapping some gifts. We spread out all our ingredients and got busy on separate kinds.
I would have taken her picture in her element, but she absolutely did not want me to, so I respected that (even though it's people--not the stuff-- that really are what makes pictures special). At one point, I stopped to think about how many times we take pictures of the finished product, of things all nice and pretty and cleaned up, but how most of life is lived in the messing up of things. Literally and figuratively. So I decided to whip out the camera and get a shot of our counter "in the moment"--covered with flour, eggs, brown sugar, white sugar, chocolate, jam, nuts, mixer, vanilla, measuring spoons, and other tools of the trade.
She said something like, "Why on earth would you take a picture of that mess?"
"Because it's Christmas!" I replied.
"Then every day must be Christmas around here," she retorted, glibly. I laughed at that good one, and quickly got back to business.
When all was said and done, we made 135 cookies (intending to give two dozen to a new neighbor). Joel got up on a chair for an aerial shot and took pictures.
The only mistake about the production was that we didn't cover the big red tray of goodies with aluminum foil. This morning we found about 30 of them gone--and one very guilty looking dog under the table.
Decided not to chance giving away any cookies that might be a little "Golden" brown!
Merry Christmas to all--blessings and messings alike.
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