I had a few topics in the early stages of development for this particular blog entry. I thought of writing about Michelle Duggar's miscarriage (I find it a wee bit appalling that people are applauding a death - sure, the lady has more kids than anyone needs, but geez). I thought of writing about my Boxer boy Gideon, who came to our home exactly five years ago (I would still like to write about him soon). And finally, I had a few loosely-formed but completely unrelated ideas about meditation, Weight Watchers, and mortality.
However, based on the pile of unwrapped gifts in my basement, the urgent need to color my roots, and an unwatched episode of Hoarders on my DVR, I decided to go with a weighty (ha!) topic indeed: baked goods. My daughter and I spent the entire day baking. Well, not technically the entire day. After church we went to the hospital to visit an elderly member of our fellowship who just had a minor stroke. Later, A told me, "It was so nice of us to go and visit Miss Lois." I must remember to cover modesty with that child. Also, phone etiquette (I didn't really think about that one until I heard her on the phone with her friend: "I know you called me, Claire. What did you want to say?")
After the hospital visit, we baked five different types of cookies. We then packaged them up to send to various family members along with the other gifts we are shipping to them. During our baking session I learned that it's not wise to hand a sifter full of powdered sugar to a six-year-old and say, "Sift this lightly over the cookies." Does. Not. Compute. Between the volume of powdered sugar and the eight different types of decorations, our relatives may not live to see New Year's Day. Nothing says Christmas like the heartfelt gift of Type 2 diabetes for your loved ones.