Tag: memories

Cookies, everyone?

They’re everywhere.

On the kitchen counter….

In the refrigerator….

Lurking in tiny bags with ribbon….

On top of the desk, in the break room, on the car seat….

Cookies!

If you’re not baking them, your neighbor is, and she just has to share. Chocolate, cinnamon, oatmeal, ginger, sugar…they’re out to get us. Even if we don’t usually have an appetite for them, right now, during the holidays, we feel compelled to eat them. Just one. Well, maybe just one more. After all, you don’t want to be rude.

_MG_3286_And it’s that time of year, right? When eating is akin to caroling, wrapping presents, and trimming the tree.

You take a break, you get a cookie. You take a walk, you get a cookie. You breathe, you get a cookie.

Cookies invoke memories of Christmas past, when everything was filled with wonder. When anticipation just about killed you as you wondered if you really had been good all year, or was Santa listening when you yelled at your brother/sister?

Mothers just know how to bake them, at least mine did. From scratch, of course. By the time Christmas came, there were endless round tins of all kinds of cookies everywhere. Decorating the sugar cookies was especially fun, even if I wasn’t very good at it. At least they tasted good.

Truth be told, I still could probably take the tube of icing and go sit outside and consume it outright. (Of course I can do the same thing with homemade macaroni and cheese, but that’s another story.)

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Every year, I resolve to amp up my exercising during December and stand firm against the temptation of the round devils. Yet there they are. Somehow, they’ve entered my house. As each day goes by, they seem to multiply. It’s like a trance comes over me and I find myself reaching for them more times than I would ever do in the middle of summer. Like a 1950s black and white horror movie, they take over my brain.

 

The Cookie Blob. The Dough That Ate Godzilla. Invasion of the Chocolate Snatchers.  

Even Oreos. Especially fresh Oreos, followed by tart lemonade. Research conducted using Oreos’ effects on lab rats concluded that high-fat/high-sugar foods stimulate the brain in the same way that drugs do.

Duh.

Is there any escape? Maybe not. Maybe that’s okay. Of course, moderation is a good idea. I’m still working on that.

But I’m not ready to give them up completely.

I like how baking cookies fills my kitchen with a wonderful aroma. I like how in the winter, they make everything feel cozy and warm, especially if the cold wind is howling outside. I especially like how they make me feel like my mother is standing next to me, smiling as she watches me do what she did for so many years. (Or perhaps frowning when I drop the pan and eat them anyway.)

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Which cookies are your favorites? Do you carry on traditions you learned as a child? I’d love to know.

As for me, I’m thinking maybe I need to make just a few more batches. After all, I sure wouldn’t want to run out….

 

“Cookies are made of butter and love.”

              Norwegian Proverb

 

 

 

Leaving the nest—and taking wing.

There’s a hollow gourd hanging on my front porch with a hole in it, making it the perfect choice for a bird couple looking for a cozy, comfortable, fixer-upper and shield against wind and rain.

The first tenants were a precious pair of mountain chickadees who worked furiously to make it theirs…bringing small twigs and grasses and stray balls of animal hair into the hole. Then Nature intervened as it always does, and a feisty wren threw them out, bags and all. I couldn’t figure out why I kept seeing all the twigs all over the floor of my porch. Then I looked up and watched as the tiny wren pushed the furnishings through the hole and peeked out, daring anyone to intervene.

IMG_0887Wrens are cute. Their song is beautiful. But they are not to be messed with.

So in the weeks that followed, things progressed, and soon there was a lot of chirping going on. I occasionally would see Mama wren bring in bits of food to her brood. Very Disneyesque.

Then it got ugly again.

One day, two smaller wrens sat on the rain of my porch squawking endlessly….flapping their tiny wings in pure terror. Looking up, Mama wren was sticking her head out of the hole in the gourd with a fierce look that said, “No room here. Go out on your own. My job’s done.” Each offspring would attempt to fly back into the gourd only have to have Mom promptly shove them off.

Party’s over.

Time to the leave the nest.

Time to get on with your life.

It made me think of how each of us goes through this rite of passage, whether it’s physically leaving home, losing our parents, or just mentally separating and becoming an adult. Some of us spend time as caregivers and the roles get reversed…yet he is still our father, and she is still our mother.

And when they are both gone, it’s quite shocking how different it feels.

No matter what our age is. Suddenly, we’re grown up. As a friend put it, “Now there’s no one between me and the sun.”

Both of my parents are gone, and there are periods of time when I don’t think of them. But there are days when it feels like they are standing right next to me. So many times I’d like to show my Mother something. Or ask my Father for advice. It’s hard.

And I can only imagine how hard it was for them when I left home and became independent.

DSC_0066Cutting ties is what we do (at least most of us). It’s what all of Nature does. It’s not easy, and I don’t think it’s meant to be. Adulthood is hard and you might as well get that message early on.

We all know people who just expect things to go easily, and who seem shocked when they don’t. Then they get resentful. And often, they hold that resentment their entire life. (And everyone they come into contact with pays for it.) So the waiter gets stiffed. The cab driver gets disrespected. The homeless person on the corner gets a dirty look.

As boomers and beyond, we’ve seen so many changes in our lives. We watched Howdy Doody. We saw man go into space. We ate TV dinners. We probably played in the neighborhood after school and didn’t get chauffeured to soccer, recitals, or play dates. We got very excited when the ice cream man came around in the afternoons.

Things are different now. And while we can hold on to our memories, there are some things we might have to let go of. Because as cozy as it might be, we can’t stay in that gourd forever. If we do, we’ll miss out on so much.

I don’t think it’s too late to let your life take wing. In fact, I think now is the perfect time.

Where have you never been, that you yearn to go?

What adventure calls to you?

What have you always wanted to say to a lifelong friend?

As the late motivational speaker and author Leo Buscaglia always used to say, the time is now. Stop waiting for the right moment.

Why not today?

“Don’t brood. Get on with living and loving. You don’t have forever.”

     Leo Buscaglia

 

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