Betty, A Box, & A Card

December 18, 2020 – Want to see/hear me read this?

It’s that time of the year again. Baking holiday cookies. And lots of them! This year, it seems especially important to me that I create an atmosphere of joy so we hopped into the truck early, headed to the local tree farm. We found just the right tree (which the birds will enjoy during January and February in our backyard… be still my heart, it pains me to sever a tree from Mother Earth but it is Husband’s desire to have a tree inside during these holidays and so, well at least there’s the birds) and got right to decorating. Then we dressed up the outside of the house with so many white lights and red bows and greenery, and an additional (plastic) tree. Next up, throw every decoration in the bin onto the walls and bannister – and hang those stockings under the sill going up the stairs. We are a sight to behold! Joy, indeed.

Cookies. More joy.

I usually bake a few kinds, but this year we’re going all out. I’ve got nine different ones on the list. We have planned numerous trays to be compiled and dropped off Christmas Eve. There’s Son1’s next door neighbors, neither having families. A platter each! (And hats and scarves, ‘cause everyone needs to open up a gift on Christmas Day.) And there’s Aunt Rita, Husband’s side. No extended family holiday gathering this year, so if the aunt can’t come to the cookies, the cookies are coming to the aunt!

I would boast that it’s my humanitarian side shining… and perhaps there’s some of that… but, truth be told, I am a cookie whore. I don’t do cakes or pies or pastries, but there is seldom a cookie that I’ll turn away. Get in mah mouth, you! And so, it is with great excitement that I pop open the Betty Crocker cookbook and don my apron.

As I thumbed through the cookbook, I had to be careful of the falling-out pages, those with the holes that no longer hold fast. Oh, the number of times I have opened this cookbook and poured over it for a dinner idea or to bake the same ol’ thang. Hundreds. Yes, hundreds of times. 

I got the cookbook (I believe from Mother-in-law) at my wedding shower. August of 1988. This precious book is 32 years old. Hundreds of times, indeed!

Joy.

As I reach high into the cupboard for another recipe holder, a little box that says “PEACE & Plenty” on it, I smile. My whole body warms with the happy feeling of spending time with MomJuls, a wonderful friend of mine (gone now two years.) Motherless my life long, she received me into her home and — best yet! — deep into her heart. She taught me to appreciate food, to enjoy cooking and preparing meals for self, family, and friends. We spent countless hours together at the kitchen table, discussing everything from “which is best, semi-sweet chocolate or the dark stuff in this recipe?” to “it’s okay to cry when you’re sad” to “here’s how to do a double crochet in this pattern” to “life is hard but it’s still really good too.” These were deep chats, and all shared over a cup of tea and a plate of cookies. 

When I married and began my own kitchen practices, she gifted me with her recipe box. It is this same one that Daughter places her recipes in and anticipates receiving upon setting up her own home and kitchen life. 

Joy.

One more, please?

Within the box are numerous recipes, tried and true throughout my baking life. There is one index card  in particular which has been slipped out and leaned onto the flour canister only about a hundred times. (Okay, not a hundred, but fifty? Surely, fifty.) Our family’s fave Christmas cookie: peanut blossoms… a blessed hershey’s kiss atop a yummy peanut butter cookie. A holy thing, indeed. (Pause. Lower eyes and thank the heavens for taste buds.)

This year, as I drag the index card out, I notice its ratty edges, the crispiness of its age, the various stains which have left some of the print illegible. For just a split second, I thought to recopy it and toss this old card away. But just holding the recipe card, I noticed, brought a warmth to my body and a smile to my face. Joy. I was feeling joy. 

Yes, creating the cookies is going to bring joy into our atmosphere – and surely, in this end of the year 2020, we are in desperate need of all the high vibe sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice can offer us… but, oh, who would have thought that an old (Daughter called it antique-ish) cookbook, a hand-me-down recipe box, and a used index card could bring me even more joy than the cookies themselves? 

Joy.

And now, I don MomJuls’ apron – feeling her hug – and sigh. Peace & plenty, indeed. Amen.

Writing Every Day Down.

Hugs,

Lisa

Lisa Augustine Glasier

Life Guide

Available by appointment