Besides the whole walnuts, the secret to my cookie success is using real butter and extra flour. Cage free eggs and good vanilla. Never, ever even think about using "vanilla flavored extract." I have some amazing vanilla I bought in St. Thomas. It was at one of those spice markets and it came in a recycled pint liquor bottle. Or half-pint. It has a different floral smell. Hell, it's probably imitation vanilla with some cheap perfume and brown food coloring thrown in. Doesn't matter. Every time I use it, I remember that trip.
Soooo. I made Sarita assume the sous chef role and I transformed into Gordon Ramsey. Not really. I'm much sweeter. She loves to cook with me. I measured and poured and instructed. Check the flour for weevils. I have a realllly funny story about old Bisquick and sausage balls at Thanksgiving. Later.
Now in case you're wondering which man I was trying to win over, I'll just tell you there are four possibilities. I know, I know. You're thinking Mr. Man. But don't forget about The D. And Kiddo. He's coming home from college tomorrow. And last but not least, my fantasy future father-in-law. And m-in-law, too, but she's not a man. Turns out, he loves cc cookies with walnuts. I know because I hot-footed it over there with a plate of them. They were a big hit.
I asked if I could do an oil painting. Papa J is an avid painter. I used to be. I took classes in oil, portraiture (in oil) and watercolor. I love to draw, too. I don't seem to have much time to do creative things, but when I do, it's amazing. Impossible to describe the feeling. It's the right side of the brain, which is so neglected for most people. Accountants, anyway. Not that I'd put that label on myself.
We headed to the garage studio and I was suited up in a paper surgical gown dentists use. I asked again for the way-cool vintage aqua dental supply cabinets. Papa said no. FF says no. I'll figure something out. Gotta have 'em. Hey, maybe on eBay or Craig's list. Can't let FF think he's the only game in town.
The studio was ready. Complete with two palettes, linseed oil, turpentine and lotsa brushes. I'd forgotten how good it felt to paint. I wasn't thrilled with the results. PJ's likeness was the best, then FF, and then Mama R. I thought it looked a little Picasso-esque. They said it was "modern." I took a pic and emailed it to FF and he said it looked like Munch's The Scream, which I frequently feature in this very blog.
The nice thing with oil is that you can keep working on it. With watercolor, it's one shot. Good that paper is cheaper than canvas, huh?
Speaking of art and cookies. I need to ship Dude's b-day gift to him. He didn't have room to take it back with him on the plane. I gave him a woodcut/watercolor print I'd bought way back when at Arts in the Park. I loved it. It had a sailboat and a lighthouse. Fitting, since he lives in Fla. and loves to sail. I got it framed - spent a good hour picking out the perfect shade of dark blue and an frame that worked. I was supposed to frame it myself with a little instruction, but I wound up hitting it off with a new friend. Turned out our kids went to school together. I told her about FF and that it was his b-day gift and she framed the whole thing and told me to let her know if it didn't work out because she had someone in mind. Only problem was that he had been married to some beauty queen. That's scary.
Who, I'm really meandering. My ADD medicine wore off a long time ago. I got through my 3:00 client meeting with just a few lapses. Told him we needed to set up Go to Meeting because I was planning to elope soon and drag The D to Florida with me. He's an attorney, too. Why do I find myself surrounded by them? I told him Dude was a flaming liberal (client's very conservative), and he agreed with me when I said everyone who ever worked for a university was a left-winger. Can we say Big Government? I told him that when FF asked me why I voted for John and Sarah, I said I liked her hair. I didn't mention the Athiest thing to client. He'd lose all respect for me.
Damn, in addition to three new bruises, I have a thorn in my finger. Mama R gave me some of her roses. I guess that's how I got it. I'll get Kiddo to get it out tomorrow. He's good at that kinda thing. I'd walk over to Angela's, but after she ripped the curling iron out of my hair that time (somehow, I managed to get it all tangled up), I don't trust her. Maybe if I soak in her hot tub it'll slide out.
Better stick around here. I need to get Kiddo's room in shape for his homecoming. Can't wait to see how he likes Good House.
The D came in a few minutes ago and wished me happy mother's day. And asked when Kiddo would be home. I'd forgotten to tell him. He was happy to hear that it would be tomorrow.
I'm going to close now. I have some nesting to do. And packing birthday gifts (maybe a few cookies, too) to ship. I need to work on a fuckin' sales tax calculation, but that can wait until tomorrow. Gonna plant my rosemary cuttings first. Listen to Evanescence on my MP3. Maybe even walk to the playground for a quick swing...
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