The New Year waits just around the corner; the Christmas tree stands in now lonely glory, stripped of its skirts of foil and ribbon. The gifts are stowed and the stockings will soon be gathered and placed lovingly in the scented safety of the upstairs cedar chests. Christmas carols and hymns disappear into the ether like Brigadoon. The deep dark of January is a black hole, claiming our days and nights, swallowing the warmth and color and cheer after the confetti and noisemakers and parties and shoving of that old year out the door. If one is by inclination conservative, the New Year may be invited into our homes with some reservation and no little trepidation.....
Thank goodness for cookies.
Specifically, thanks be for the sprinkle bedecked cut out sugar cookies still lingering at the bottom of an immense Tupperware. Like the final flickering fireflies of summer and the last fragile rose of October, the final taste of the season of good will is neither as bright nor as sweet as the first bite. But, 'tis enough, 'twill serve.....
It all starts with chilled dough...
and a kaleidoscope of cookie cutters.
There are vintage cutters older than I am...only peripherally connected to the season.
Christmas moon, anyone?
I always cut out some "holly"leaves and "poinsettias" for tradition's sake.
But not everyone stands on tradition. How about some penguins?
After all, what says Christmas more than a cookie sheet of dinosaurs?
There's plenty of dough to go around and lots of practice with Grandma's rolling pin...
Impossible to make frosting without a fine mist of powdered sugar hanging in the air.
It takes a crew to work through a mountain of cookies...
...and more than a pound of butter!
Not everyone waits for frosting.
But after all this artwork,
it's time for reward..
Til there's naught left but that last cookie....
and the crumbs.....
Happy New Year....
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