With snow outside and the very real possibility of ANOTHER school snow day I wanted to drown my boo-boos in the only thing left over from the holidays - recycled ginger bread dough.
Now this dough has been rolled out, punched out tossed back in the fridge and recycled again. The pile had been ever-dwindling, but there remained enough of the worn dough to make a last batch of what I call "ginger turds." That's about the effort I was willing to put into the shapes.
I freed up a bit of space in our over-taxed fridge, popped off the Zip-Loc lid and grabbed the dough; not with the genteelness of the past few weeks' baking events, but with a determination, grumble and resentment equal to the discovery of a lump of coal in your stocking. I wasn't mad at the dough - but at the snow.
I tore off the small, random chunks and plopped them onto the cookie sheet. Some I took the time to shape with the palm of my hand, but that was making too much noise. I quietly preheated the oven so as not to disturb the children who are finally back on school schedule. Then, I tip-toed to the shower and spent a few minutes until the aroma of soon-to-be-charcoal cookies wafted back to the bathroom. My thought-to-be short shower was actually 15 minutes and the cookies were very done.
We have spent the past three days detoxing the family from holiday treat menus. I don't really want to eat the cookies, but I wanted to end the dough fest with flourish Stepping on the scale between the shower, robe and kitchen was a mistake. I'm definitely not partaking tonight, but I'll tuck them away for emergencies in the coming days. I don't think I'll banish them to the sub-zero freezer in the garage with the fudge, nut brownies - but they will still take an effort to call upon when needed.
(Sigh) Tea. I think I'll have some tea and a book and pray for rain and a thaw so the big yellow buses can once again give me a peaceful day working from home.
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