New Year's resolutions have never quite stuck with me. I have done them all- resolve to exercise more, lose weight, be more patient, so on and so forth. I even made resolutions when I was teaching- grade and return assignments faster, keep my classroom organized, blah, blah, blah.
And you know how long those resolutions lasted? About 4 days. I am probably not the sole deserter of the Resolution Revolution.
There is ONE resolution that I am proud that I have kept. Honest- like 75% of the time, which I think is pretty good statistically. A few years ago, I made the resolution to make my bed every day. I know, sounds a little childish, but I was totally guilty of not making the bed (one of those college habits that just kinda stuck around). And Mike certainly wasn't going to do it, considering his mom always made his bed when he was growing up. So one year, I just decided to do it. And I did it the next day. And the next. In fact, I made it yesterday too.
I think there is just something magical about snowflakes, especially when they first begin to fall. Maybe it's because I am from coastal mid-Atlantic where we may be bombarded by snow one year, and see two flakes the next winter. But when the air has that crisp "snow" smell, and those big snowflakes make that distinct sound when they hit the ground. . . it's just magical to me.
Even our Christmas elves- Howie and Buddy- think there's something magical about snowflakes. I suppose they watched the weather and saw that we weren't getting any snow for Christmas here on Maryland's Eastern Shore, and wanted to make sure my boys had snow for Christmas Eve. So they made lots of paper snowflakes, all shapes and sizes, and hung them from the ceiling near the tree. And if your elf is technology savy, he or she can find the online instructions (and videos too!) on how to make those big 3D snowflakes. You know, just in case they needed something else to do, besides having a marshmallow snowball fight in the kitchen or drawing faces with toothpaste on the bathroom mirror. Stupid elves, I wish they had a maid elf that traveled with them. . .
That brings me to snowflake cookies. Just like the real thing or the paper version, they can be simple or complicated, and all are sweet as can be! And you can make them all winter long- not just for the December holidays.
"Oh, I want crabs for Christmas. Oh, only crabs will do. Oh, I want crabs for Christmas. My Christmas wish'll come true!". If you are from Maryland, you can thank me for getting this little Christmas diddy stuck in your head for the rest of the day. For those of you who are thinking "what on Earth?", here's the inside scoop: "Crabs for Christmas" is the holiday song written over 30 years ago by David DeBoy. In the song, a Maryland man is stuck in the Houston airport on Christmas Eve where he stumbles upon Santa. Desperately missing his Maryland home, he sits upon Santa's lap and wishes for something near and dear to many Marylanders' hearts- steamed Maryland Blue Crabs.
Since I had some leftover dough, and I had that song stuck in my head from hearing it on the radio, I thought it was the perfect time to make some special Maryland Christmassy cookies. Time to break out my crab cutters!
I am the only female in my house, besides the cat. Since I am surrounded by football equipment, Legos, excessive bodily noises, and a wide array of strategically ditched socks, I sometimes long for delicate and frilly kinds of things. Since my cat wouldn't be too happy in me dressing her up in floral frocks, and my husband forbids pink ruffles in our bedroom, I sometimes have to make cookies that are, well, girlie. Even Christmas trees.
I must say that this design was a complete accident. I was in a hurry and wanted a quick green Christmas tree and it just happened. And I liked it. So then I decided to do it again, and even adding in a little pink flair. Let me show you!
I have an obsession with decorated gingerbread. Some (aka my kids) might even call it an unhealthy addiction. I love everything about it- the smell, the color, the taste, and of course, decorating it. This love affair has been going on for a LONG time. Here's the story of how we met.
I'm Amy. Wife, Mom, former science teacher- and now full time cookie baker on Maryland's Eastern Shore. Pull up a chair and we'll create! I'll bring the coffee- maybe Mike (The Cookie Widower) will make it for us.