I haven’t had the time to write deeply this last week, but here’s a little poem I scribbled out on the drive to Sydney yesterday.
Baked Goods and Good Will
I baked him gingerbread men in an attempt to add a little spice to our lives.
But why do I bother? He’s had every sweet in the cookbook.
How many chimneys must a man go down, before you know something is up?
I keep listening for sleigh bells; I’ve had so many silent nights.
If he isn’t home by New Year’s Eve, I’m heading South.
Ebenezer seems a new man; he generously got the bill at the last month’s meet up.
His hand brushed mine when I served the eggnog.
A woman cannot live on baked goods and good will alone.
No links to what I’m learning about this week, but here are photos of strange things I baked and made today at our friends’ house.