*sigh* I'm loosing my touch. (Warning: Hi-jacked by Em)

[Bunnylady]

Offhand, I'd say there are lots of websites for that.


Sour, you think that's bad - if you do a google search using my last name, a lot of the results will be postings on one of the - um - least tasteful of that sort of site. Evidently, one of the members uses it as his (I'm assuming it's a "he") screen name.

 

[sourland]

Today was cooky making day, and the Princess was BOSS. When working together, one of us is BOSS, and the other just a zipped lip and pair of hands. I have no problems with that situation, but when I am BOSS she can't help herself.

Seriously as organized as she is in real life, she is the most poorly organized cook that I have ever met.

Thanks, I feel much better now.

We made oatmeal cookies, chocolate chip, and lots of butter cookies. I got in trouble with the dough for the butter cookies and the cooky press - I was called a degenerate.

 

[Alaskan]

Did you eat it all instead of putting it in the press?

 

[Bunnylady]

Some people will play with anything.

I've rooted out Gramma

's cookie gun; Baby

and I will be making cookies later.

Many, many years ago, when my older brother was in the Air Force and my younger brother was at college, I decided to give them a taste of home for the holidays. I baked all the kinds of cookies that my mother usually made, plus a few more, and mailed them both a big box full. They suddenly became the most popular guys in the dorm/barracks; my older brother told me there were several guys who were quite disappointed to hear that I was married . . . . I guess it's true what they say about a man's heart.

 

[sourland]

Pretty close to true,

lady. Many years ago waiting for a flight to Atlanta to visit our daughter and her family we got delayed - SURPRISE> We were carrying two large totes of Christmas cookies. Yep, I started handing them out, and instantly became the most popular guy in the airport. Try that today.

 

[sourland]

So today we continued making cookies. jelly filled Hungarian cookies were first. Roll out the chilled dough, cut little squares (or any shape - the Princess has poor quality control), fill with jelly, fold over upon themselves, and into the oven. Other than a sore back (I fill, fold, and bake) all went well. Then we start on Grandma's Lemon Raisin (as in MY Grandma) cookies. First sheet is cross hatched with a sugar coated fork and ready for the oven at 400 degrees. "Elaine, how long do I cook these?" Her hands are a mess as she is filling another trap with cooky gobs. Instead of putting the cooky sheet down or into the oven, I one hand it and reach for the recipe - whoosh, parchment paper and 16 cookies bite the dust.

I did not swear - is that a sign that I am finally reaching maturity. I asked the Princess, and she said. "I saw your face. You thought really bad thoughts. That's just as bad." She was right, my head filled with profanities.

How does she know me so well?

 

[Bunnylady]

Really, Sour? You didn't just say, "Gee, I wish I hadn't done that?"

 

[sourland]

No, when I finally verbalized, I said, "Gee, that was pretty stupid." It was ONLY about one third of the projected supply of Grandma's cookies. Anything that hits the floor around here is immediately 'frosted' in golden retriever hair.

 

[Bunnylady]

"Hair of the dog" isn't a typical ingredient for cookies.

I think it was Snoopy who said, "Anything that hits the floor is legally mine."

 

[sourland]

"Hair of the dog" - once upon a time a frequent 'friend' of mine. Those days are long gone. For these things we give thanks.