Last year as a means of trying to connect while "social distancing," I decided to organize and host a holiday cookie exchange party via USPS. It was such a hit, we all decided to do it again this year. And this year, we had a meet-and-greet on Zoom, which I hope everyone enjoyed.
The concept is each participant is responsible for making one type of cookie and making enough to send each participant one full dozen. Including myself, there were six participants in each year's cookie exchange. So assuming you're not inhaling all the cookies as they arrive piecemeal in the mail box, at the end of this, each participant should have six dozen cookies--which includes a dozen of the type they made themselves.
This year, I selected "holiday spice" spritz cookies, which I made sandwich cookies out of two (so really, I made 2x the cookies I normally would have made). Inside each sandwich cookie, I smeared some Ginger People ginger jam. I thought they were nice--I've only gotten feedback from one participant, who, like myself, they are partial to jammy cookies. The recipe I used for my spritz cookies was this one.
In addition to the spritz cookies, as part of MY OWN holiday baking festivity, I made a couple other ones. I made some Mexican Wedding Cookies (which from what I can gather is pretty close to the recipe for Russian Tea Cakes). I also made Chocolate Crinkle Cookies from Sally's Baking Addiction (of which I added white chocolate chips which were peppermint flavored), and I slightly modified a recipe for Red Velvet Cookies from Live Well Bake Often, which utilizes as red velvet cake mix--of which I modified with a little bit of cherry flavoring, and studded the centers with a white chocolate Hershey's Kiss.
Additionally, I am rather fond of watching baking videos on YouTube, and came across a super simple, very versatile Ice Box Cookie recipe, which I made a double batch of the dough late last night (damn insomnia!)--and 1/2 the batch, I wrapped up as-is, and will bake it off Christmas morning (after doing the shred routine illustrated in the video), and will use up some (what I hope is) plum jam a friend made for me 2 years back and give it to my neighbor.
The other half, I halved yet again, wrapped half as-is, and the remaining portion I added a few spoons of matcha powder--and not being pleased with the dreary color, I added a few drops of green food color to brighten the hue a bit. I plan on making spiral and maybe some checker board slice and bake cookies--I'll roll each log in some chopped toasted almonds, and maybe some chocolate jimmies. I couldn't resist! It's entirely plausible I will just prep the dough further, and pop it in the freezer to be baked off at some other point in time. I think I went a bit crazy.
I packaged up a dozen of my spritz cookies for each of the participants, and sent an assortment to several friends and relatives I won't be seeing for the holidays. I'm trying to convince myself it will make me feel less homesick. Mom died last year of COVID, and I think I was just in such a state of shock I just didn't process my grief, and my grief really has been quite pronounced this year. And I think it will REALLY hit me when the pandemic is actually over, and I have that over-riding urge to go visit my mother after such a long time--and I think at that point it will really hit me, the existential loss. Right now, my mind plays tricks on me, convincing me she's still in her room at Shady Pines--and I managed not to erase about a dozen of her voicemails to me--including the last Christmas message she ever left in 2019.
As I am really doing austerity measures and avoiding any non-essential in person interaction, that leaves me with a lot of time to just sit and ruminate, and analyze the past. I want to believe it's my way of processing things, especially all the things which were left undone and unresolved. Acceptance and forgiveness are languages was never taught--it's like trying to expect a fish to climb a tree--it just isn't happening. As much as she hurt me for over a half century, my heart is truly broken that things weren't "just so" before she passed away. COVID truly took her that quick. Rather than wasting time trying to get through to the department of health on her behalf, I should have been on the phone, reassuring her--perhaps that's what I did at some point. She and I will never have justice. Her death and its aftermath was messy and complicated--just like our relationship. People truly are complex.
All I am left with is thinking back on things I've done, and things I want to remedy. And one of which is so trivial. "Way back when" I was married to someone else, someone who isn't Christian (tbh, I'm not really much of a Christian myself, anymore, but that's besides the point), who really was obnoxious about it.
One year a dear friend had given me two cheery red Waechtersbach mugs with a simple green Christmas tree motif on them. The next year she gave me two red dishes with the same motif. And over time, "the someone else" aka "The WASband," was so obnoxious about anything remotely related to Jesus, I eventually relented and gave the items to either mom or my sister--never to see them again.
For over twenty years, I regretted this. I enjoyed those items so much, something so simple, and they reminded me of my dear friend, and made me think of our shared Irish and German heritage, but knowing her, she gave them to me because they were cute.
This year, I decided to go in search of replacing those items, and I succeeded. I also bought a small "nut bowl" for Maharajah, for his morning oatmeal, and I bought a festive, shallow dish to contain the supply of cookies from both, the holiday cookie exchange, as well as cookies my cousin provides---he's really quite the baker! I wish he'd join in my annual cookie exchange.
And in stark contrast to "The WASBand's" response to the mug, Maharajah thinks it's cute--and during our weekly video chat with his mom--she spied the mug on the table and even remarked on it positively--which reinforced for me, that I made a solid decision in righting this wrong. Not just the wrong of the WASband's attitude, but also righting the wrong of how pliable I was--how I allowed "people pleasing" to make me get rid of something so sweet, and innocent.
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