Well, that does it. I'm done baking. My husband isn't, but I am. Why? Because my hip decided it had had enough and 'twinged', making me hobble like someone walking on a teeter-totter. So I am listening to my body, and sitting this one out.
At last count, we had over 150 dozen cookies made. The chocolate chips were being demolished, so we need to restock. So my husband has taken the reigns and will complete the tasks. Meanwhile, I'll be making cookies platters and bags for the staff of the two schools my kids attend, as well as a snack for their classmates.
Two out of three parties were attended, and the cookies trays were a hit! People came, they saw, they devoured. Mostly the chocolate chips. I thought for sure the kids would go for the sprinkle cookies since they were so colorful, but little kids aren't as naive as I thought- they went right for the chocolate.
I also made peasant bread and two dips- one was spinach dip, the other was a warm pepperoni dip. Both were consumed in great quantities, but the pepperoni dip won out. I received a lot of requests for the recipe. There wasn't much left!
The last party is our open house, and I have no idea how I'm going to clean up for it when my hip is whining at me. I'm wondering if I can get away with playing supervisor, sitting on the couch like a queenly version of Jabba the Hutt, ordering about my family as if I were the boss. I am the boss when the hubster isn't home- but I would love to just sit there and be the queen bee whilst the house was getting cleaned up. But I know better. The moment the kids see me sitting, they figure they can sit too, then my husband has to light a fire under their keysters. So to save the drama, I'm best to be out of sight, out of mind, so I'll take my gimpy self somewhere else.
To the sewing room, Batman!
My sewing room is where the gifts are stored and wrapped. The room is off limits to family until Christmas. After that, it will become my sewing space again, and my no-cleaning sanctuary until the open house (which is between Christmas and New Years).
I just hope I survive.
Don't get me wrong- I love doing this each year! I love feeding the masses, I love all the company, and I love to see people having a great time. I would just like a little more time to do it all. Twenty-four hours in a day just isn't enough. Either that, or God gives me another body that isn't so gosh darn big to lug around! (like that's His fault and not mine for eating too many chips.) And if He doesn't want to give me a new body (yet), I'd request the metabolism of a hummingbird. For one month. Any more than that and I would slip down the drain when I took a shower.
So the baking of cookies is done for me, though I still have some bread to make. I love making bread. I love eating bread. I love giving bread away so others can enjoy it. So come over my house so I can give you some. And no, this time I'm not making eighty loaves. That's next week.
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