Today, I baked.

'Twas theoretically my "shopping day" off from work, except that as most of the Christmas shopping is done and my car needed work, I cheerfully handed the latter off to my-uncle-the-mechanic and returned home. The total: a double batch of banana bread, chocolate chip cookies, oatmeal raisin cookies, snickerdoodles, and vanilla sugar cookies. I deliberately opted not to bake anything which would require either (1) needing to get stuff from the store, or (2) refrigeration time.

Contrary to popular rumor, I am still alive.

Am machete'ing my way through Christmas-gifts-to-buy, training my e-mail to do tricks like filter out spam, and thinking covetously of acquiring new baking skills and equipment (Parchment paper. A mini-whisk. Another set of baking pans. Crystallized ginger.) in preparation for Thursday, which, if I get enough shopping and wrapping done in time, is going to be The Day Of Baking. And Blood Tests. And Getting My 120K Car CheckUp Done. But mostly Baking. Because that's the important thing, you see... creating all these lovely little calories and then making other people eat them. Willingly. This soothes the hatred (on a low simmer, not a roiling boil) I have developed this year of all things December and Christmas related. Because there have been health problems and other very not fun things that I don't want to discuss. And I miss my cat. But this month is damn well going to end better than it started. I have Decreed It So. And then maybe I'll feel like writing again....