Wednesday, June 10, 2009

Sending Cookies



We SAVE these things, coffee cans. But since coffee beans come in bags, I brought this one home from the office.

It probably isn't fair that I don't send anyone else cookies, but when Sim (not his real name, or is it) left home to work a government research scholarship at U of M, I told him that I would send him cookies by mail. He's sharing an apt with other random kids for the summer and can't use the oven or he would make them himself.

Lucky dude that he is, the stove-top is electric, so he can cook. These are things that really matter to a Jewish mother.

Anyway, when I was a kid and went away to summer camp, my mom, the infamous Boobah, sent me cookies in coffee cans.

I sent Sim the cooks with this tradition in mind, but not in a can because it was a rush job, and he needed some other things that really wouldn't fit in a coffee can.

I just thought I should share this.

We think he really liked them, btw, for as Safta says, You always cook better for people you love. Or is that, it always comes out better when you cook for people you love, or maybe fear. Something like that. Not so much a heebie jeebie thing, as much as that a person puts more attention into the process, mho.
Flying Sweet

5 comments:

  1. And what sort of cookies did you send?

    ReplyDelete
  2. He's pretty fond of chocolate chip cookies. He tells me I put something else in there, and I think I threw some cashews in, but can't remember. Ya' know, when you cook for people you love. . .

    ReplyDelete
  3. My goodness, how do you keep up with all those blogs in your sidebar?!?

    ReplyDelete
  4. I, as a Bubbie, am committed to my secret life, which is all about seeing what the rest of the world is doing without ever leaving my office.

    In other words, when I could be praying, learning, etc., I'm socializing on the web.

    Is this good? Probably not.

    But G-d hasn't said it isn't. Nowhere is it written.

    And ours is a religion of action, not words. Wait a minute.

    ReplyDelete

Cry, it's okay, bubbala. Tell me everything.