The other day I wrote about my dad and his peanut brittle. I decided this would be a good year to return to my holiday baking. As far back as college, I would bake. Since Daddy did peanut brittle for his gift, I learned to do the same, only I baked instead. In recent years, I haven't had much chance to do it. Life has been different than it was in the past.
But this year? This year, we have a kitchen. We have a building staff that takes very good care of us. We have some local friends. Hell, we have a mail carrier who actually delivers our mail to our mailbox here in our apartment. (Seriously, this hasn't happened for a while.)
Thursday night, I made three batches of peanut brittle, and two batches of fudge. Friday morning, I got up and made cupcakes. By 11:30, they had cooled, be frosted, the goodies packed up, and delivered. People stopped us all day, thanking us, telling us how special it was. We were even called a blessing and welcomed to "the family that's part of this building."
*sniff*
As I was telling Lithus, holiday baking is one of those things that, when I don't get to do it, I miss it. Badly. And when I do get to do it, it makes me think "this is my life" and smile. This week has been a smile-y kind of week.
Those are Pobble Thoughts. That and a buck fifty will get you coffee.
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