It's Baking Day!

Every year since Brian and I were married we've baked cookies for the neighbors for....their Winter Holiday of choice. We don't care what you celebrate, you're going to receive cookies from us and you'll like them because they're tasty! It usually takes us all day to crank out six of seven different kinds and package them all up, but I was sure I'd be off the hook this year since I didn't have an oven. Alas! My new oven has arrived......



Ta-da! Notice we're still missing the countertop and the stove bit (and the floor, and the backsplash and the drawer knobs), but now, let the baking commence!








And they're so pretty, my little peanutbutter blossoms. Say Cheese!







I've finished the oatmeal chocolate chip too, so I'm now onto the Lemon Tea cookies which while not particularly festive are Brian's favorite. And hopefully the neighbors will be pleased with this year's scaled down version. Especially my back neighbor......

A couple nights ago I crawled over our back fence to rescue my cat who was locked in a ferral cat trap, missing her collar, at 1am in the rain. Lovely combo that! Ok, so it wasn't the smartest thing I've done this week and since I'm not a professional thief or anything I didn't even think to reset the trap that I essentially broke to get my cat out. Busted! So I thought I'd better fess up and let my single female neighbor know it was me in her backyard in the middle of the night instead of some freaky (ok, more freaky) person. Yeah.... So making a long story extremely short, after speaking with her deaf grandma, her mom, her dad and her contractor (who wants to be her boyfriend) I think everyone is now ok with the cat re-napping incident, but you know, a gift of holiday cookies couldn't hurt. Because nothing says.....I'm so sorry I was trespassing in your yard in the middle of the night and broke your "humane" small animal trap, but maybe next time if you're having a problem with my cat you'll mention it to me first...like a lemon tea cookie. Am I right?

One step closer to bald.....

As I walked in from the pouring rain into one of those fancy salons Saturday night, I was certain the receptionist thought I'd come in to collect her spare change. With the hood on my green fleecy coat up over my head to hide the sickly Pippy Longstocking-like braids held together with Gwen's rejected hair prettys poking out, I looked hideous, felt awful and well, wet.

I showed up without an appointment, of course, mostly because that's the kind of unorganized, inconsiderate person I am and because shoot! I haven't been to a salon in 3 years - I don't remember how any of this stuff goes! But I've always been lucky and just to prove it, one of the junior (meaning affordable) stylists had a cancellation seconds before my sodden appearance at the door. Even luckier still my stylist was amazing! Check this out...



Ok, this is the before picture. Look at that dank stringy mess!








And this is the after. Yeah, baby!








Ok so maybe it does look a little too Molly-Ringwald-Sixteen-Candles-I-Love-the-80's, but I don't care because damn I was tired of attacking that nasty, ratty, tangly mess with a gallon of hair product every morning and still ending up looking at best like I just got out of bed.

The best part is I was able to cut off those 10" long braids, the minimum length required to donate to Locks of Love. They will take my hair and make a wig (or two) out of it for the super-unfortunate child out there who is both suffering through chemo and suffering with the the same curly red hair as me. Poor baby!