Baking up a Storm

It happens every few years, in cyclical fashion. I get an uncontrollable urge to bake Christmas goodies. In between years, I rely on the pastry chefs at the local supermarket to impress my guests during the holiday season. Last year the Grinch had a strangle hold on me as not only was baking nowhere on my checklist, but I didn't even put up a full size Christmas tree – just a tiny table top excuse for a tree with about six little bulbs on it! Sure, my livingroom was less messy and less crowded, but there was definitely something missing.

Things are going to be different this year. I've been devouring Christmas cookbooks for the past few days and writing lists of baking staples to be purchased so off I went to the grocery store today, hubby in tow to do the heavy lifting. Why the change of heart? Well, as I said, it's partly the cycle of life (for me, anyway) but it probably has more to do with the blessings which my family has to be thankful for this year. My husband battled cancer and won, my son suffered through a three hour flight with his appendix ready to rupture and was rushed into emergency surgery upon landing, and just a few weeks ago, we welcomed the birth of our first little grandchild. So, why not be happy and eager to celebrate the joyous gift of Christmas?

I'm even challenging myself to make a dark fruitcake to serve to friends and family this year. That's a major leap up the elf ladder for me because a.) I'm not overly fond of fruitcake, and b.) just looking at the lengthy list of ingredients and directions for fruitcake usually sends me scurrying for cover. But last night I found a recipe for a simplified version and it looked so incredibly easy that I currently have it baking in the oven. Imagine that! One down, many more to go. I'll no doubt spend more money on baking supplies over the next few weeks than it would cost to buy the store bought varieties, but I plan to enjoy every bit of mess I make in the process.

Speaking of kitchen messes, I recall one pre-Christmas baking frenzy when my kids were young and I enthusiastically decided to try my hand at creating a batch of intricately detailed gingerbread men. All was fine until the miniature menfolk went into the oven. Something distracted me (not much wonder, with three rapscallions galloping around the house stirring up heaps of mischief) and my poor little gingerbread men burned to a crisp. The smoke alarm first alerted me to the disaster and after removing the scorching cookie sheet from the oven, I ran around opening doors and windows to clear the air. Looking at the cluttered countertop, the sink full of dirty bowls and utensils, and the cindered gingerbread, my eyes burned with smoke and frustration. In desperation, I hurled a ginerbread man to the ground and watched as tiny cookie body parts flew all over the kitchen floor. It felt so darned good that I did it again. By this time, the kids had halted in their tracks and were watching their mother like silent statues. We all burst out laughing at the same time and then I held out the cookie sheet so they could join me in destroying the evidence of my baking fiasco. What fun we had smashing all of those little gingerbread men into thousands of gingery crumbs. Naturally, the cleanup was extensive. We didn't make another batch of gingerbread men that Christmas but we sure made a long-lasting memory. My grown sons still talk about it with fondness. Maybe my little grandson will have his own turn at smashing gingerbread men someday.

So, now the wind is howling and the snow is swirling outside but inside all is toasty warm. There's a lovely pot of beef stew simmering on the stove and the aroma of fruitcake is wafting through the house. There's plenty to go around if you'd like to drop by. I'll put the kettle on.

To Logan

The rhythmic beating of a swollen heart has coursed through my veins before.....

Love in various ways and forms has radiated joy afore......

Fingers intertwined with mine have passed affection from one to another.....

Tears have flowed from my eyes before for one reason or other.....

I've known the desire to protect and shield, I've felt its intense power.....

Breathed the soft sweet scent of newborn skin, unmatched by any flower.....

Laid bare my soul in darkest night to commune with the Maker in prayer.....

Thought I'd known all there was to know of life's bountiful fare.....

.....and then there was you. Precious one.