Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Baking day made the...

house smell so great yesterday. We accomplished two of Husband's favorite cookies: Scottish Oatcakes and Thumbprint Butter Cookies.

Actually, the Thumbprints are my favorite as well, and like potato chips, betcha can't eat just one or 5. Ohmygoodness.

I also made two chicken pies, not to be confused with chicken pot pies, and stuffing to take to the Ronald McDonald House for their Christmas dinner. My parents came through last night on their way to my sister's so I was glad to have Mom's help throughout the kitchen.

Cleaning up last night I was thinking about how in my efforts, and necessity, of the last 3 years to make Christmas more simple, I had dropped some traditions as onerous, neglecting how valuable they actually were to my sanity. For example, I really liked baking those cookies. Something inside seemed to rest even as I was busy shifting baking sheets in and out of the oven.

I don't regret the severe pruning that needfully occurred of what I had laboriously tacked on to Christmas being Christmas. The celebration had lost its meaning and depth in the hustling from one event and task to the next. Fatigue and its resulting irritation were my regular Christmas greeting then.

Now, though, I have a new freedom to bring back in the tasks that bless and comfort my family instead of exhaust us. Baking cookies yesterday was a small but renewing, and caloric, step.


  1. Fatigue...resulting irritation...I'm so there! Your testimony offers hope to one like me, that indeed I can be more than a conqueror in the madness of Christmas! :-)

    Blessings to you, my friend, as you celebrate the incarnation of our Lord and Savior!

    P.S. LOVED the Williamsburg posts--now I'm DYING to go, more so than before!

  2. Yes! Bring it on back. For me it's make one or two kinds of cookies instead of 6 kinds, plus candy etc. etc.
    Just having your home smell of baking is so comforting, don't ya think?
    Blessings on you all Elle...

  3. I think that's called throwing the baby out with the cookie dough.

    Or something like that.

    Like you, I'm cutting back in great swaths. But I'm trying to take care not to cut out the things I truly enjoy just for the sake of simplicity. You stated it beautifully when you said: Something inside seemed to rest even as I was busy shifting baking sheets in and out of the oven. I know exactly what you mean.