Grandmother Cooper's most loved and well used cookbook speaks from the shelves. Her spirit calls me to turn the stained pages from her once floured and buttered hands. I flip through and see her check marks as I read her little notes and adjustments. Accompanying her script writing is mine from some of the recipes I've tried and adjusted too. The cover itself tells a story of the tastiest pages awaiting inside.
An empty wine bottle that was first a gift of homemade honeymead now holds freshly cut flowers from the beds of a place where I lay my head at night. Their colors are vivid with hearts that bleed and bells that sing. I tend to the blooming beauties adorning the cozy house that boasts picture perfect porches.
Kitchen cupboards show my presence with eclectic vintage dishes and gourmet gadgets. I put my apron on and begin scanning the ingredients I have available. My mind races as I think of creations that will tantalize tastebuds and bring a smile to the receiver of my labor. There is always a recipe that will speak to me from my grandmothers book, so I listen and wait for her spirit to move me.
Creation begins and I find my solace in the magic of this old art. I mix, taste, chill, and roll out the from scratch sugar cookie dough. My personality is expressed in the choice of cookie cutter I recently purchased at an old general store. The stones I've selected to bake on give me even heat for the desired golden edges. After the cookies have cooled I whip up a batch of frosting with a blend of sugars, milk, and shortening. A little piece of my soul and a reflection of my life is displayed and now ready to be devoured and consumed by an eager and hungry smile.
© Kandi Blaze Cooper 2016
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