Category Archives: Fleeting Time

When I am 41, I shall wear purple.

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Here’s a PSA for you: the Alberta government no longer sends out renewal notices for car registration or driver’s license updates. Now, this is a bit of a moot point for me since I haven’t received a renewal notice for YEARS. Each time I go to the registry office, they tell me it was returned because of “address unknown,” and yet, my address is correct in the system and always has been. This is a mystery that has never been solved. Address correct. Postal code correct. Renewal notice received? No. At one point I had the hypothesis that perhaps it was delivered to the wrong address, and the recipient decided not to drop it at my house but instead marked it “Return To Sender.” However, this has happened too many years in a row, for that and only that document, and so I think that hypothesis is incorrect. But what is the answer? No one seems to know.

In any case, it doesn’t matter now. A friend emailed our circle to remind us that renewal notices are no longer mailed out, which was a timely reminder for me. Both my license and registration were about to expire, and so today I popped over to the registry office – where the lady helpfully mentioned that my renewal notice was returned as “undeliverable” – and took care of business. Mercy, I forgot how awful it is to get a driver’s license photo. Passport photos are worse, to be sure, but my new driver’s license photo makes me look like a cross between the crypt keeper and Lizzy Borden.

I’ve been a bit tired this week, which is hell on my undereye circles. In retrospect it would have been better to get a photograph done after a great night’s sleep, but what can you do. Fortunately it’s in black and white, so my grey roots will not be as obvious.

Speaking of grey roots and undereye circles, my birthday is coming up! Last weekend we went to my parents’ house to celebrate, and my mom took me shopping as a birthday gift. Among other things, she purchased me a flowy, long, beautiful, PURPLE wrap. It’s very pretty, and did I mention it’s purple? I know. I KNOW. I wore it yesterday on a field trip, and I had a few girls tell me that “my purple cape was very pretty.” Aw! My boys, as well, had nothing but compliments for it, and they are not the kind of kids who notice what I’m wearing at any given time. I’m trying to wear colour slightly more often, even if I do feel like a bit of a peacock when I wear something other than black or grey. I did wear a black top underneath the wrap, in an attempt at normalcy.

And yes! That’s two field trips in five days, which includes the weekend. The field trip was the same as the one last week – the Police Interpretive Centre – so at least it was interesting and engaging. It was almost exactly the same in content, but this class forewent the “Bullying” module in favour of the “Drugs” one. I worried that it might be a bit old for the class, but it turns out it wasn’t at all. It was “scare them off of drugs” without being nightmare-inducing.

The field trips are done for the year now, which means I did it! Some of you may recall that this was my goal for the school year; since giving up my responsibilities as School Council/ Parent Association chair, I had decided I would volunteer more in the classroom and on field trips. Every opportunity that arose I took it, and I’m so glad I did. I’ve realized that Grades Five and Six are actually fun to go on field trips with: they mostly stay on task, they stay together, and they are fairly responsible. No one tries to run away or get separated from the group, everyone makes an attempt to complete the assignment at hand. And I even get my ego stroked with compliments on my outfit! It doesn’t get much better than that. Mental note: for next year’s field trips, wear purple wrap.

The old grey mare, she ain’t what she used to be. But she can still do anything good.

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It has been a long week. My husband was travelling for work, which made it feel even longer. All day Tuesday I thought it was Thursday, which was kind of distressing. Then the same thing happened on Wednesday; I was doing some work and I thought that’s strange, the computer’s date is off. March 9th is a Wednesday, and today is Thur…oh shit. By the time Thursday actually came around it was kind of anti-climatic.

Thursday was the Junior High Open House, and since my husband was not yet home, I took both boys, which means that one of them is now super excited for next year, and the other is wishing that he also was starting at the cool school with the Industrial Arts room and a cafeteria in September. Don’t wish your life away, boys, I want to say to them, but I also am caught up in the excitement of a school with three floors! And so much awesome stuff in it! Like a real, light-up score board in the gym! And a stage that will be used as a stage instead of a classroom because, unlike the elementary school they are currently attending, this school is not grossly overcrowded!

It does make me feel a bit long in the tooth, however. Junior High! Earlier in the week I went to the mall to pick up a baby gift and also some more of that Powerful-Strength Line-Reducing Eye-Brightening Concentrate from Kiehl’s. As usual, the mall was filled with obviously-pregnant women and women with toddlers and women who fell into both camps. Maybe it was the contrast between their youthful radiance and glowing fecundity, maybe it’s just my old-crone-ness, but I bustled into Kiehl’s to grab my eye cream and the attendant came over to me right away with a I love a project! look on her face. “Oh,” she said, “You already know what you want. Okay, let me give you some samples I think you’ll like!”

Sure! I love samples. It wasn’t until I got home that I looked at them: three different wrinkle creams and one hand cream specifically designed for cracked, aging skin.

Cue the sad violin of doom. Not that I’m not going to try them, mind you. I need all the help I can get.

I was getting a pedicure today, a rare treat. As I chatted with the young esthetician, I mentioned something about my kids. “Oh!” she said, “Are they in high school or university?”

Now, I realize that it is perfectly possible for me to have high school and/or university aged children. I realize that many women my age do, in fact, have children of that age. I recently learned that my own cousin, who is only a few months older than me, is going to be a grandmother. So I know, I really do, that this is not in any way something terribly unusual or crazy.

But still. It actually felt a little odd telling her that my kids were in grades five and six and if she felt awkward at all about assuming that my children were possibly grown adults, she didn’t show it.

Well. Aging is a good thing, it really is. As the esthetician slipped on my sandals before applying polish, she complimented me on them and asked where I bought them. And that’s when I told her that I had purchased those sandals in 1997, for a post-graduate trip to Mexico with some girlfriends. She smiled and told me that those sandals were almost as old as she was!

It seems to be a conspiracy this week. It reminded me of the day I popped into the liquor store to pick up a bottle for a friend, and there, on the counter, were pre-packaged shooters that reminded me of my semi-nefarious youth. Butter Ripples! Fireballs! Sex on the Beach! Remember back in the day when you would go out dancing, probably wearing a bodysuit and high-waisted jeans, drinking vodka slimes, and some guy would buy you a Sex on the Beach? Or a Screaming Orgasm? Oh, those were the days. But I looked at the pre-packaged shooters and laughed a little. “Do people actually buy these?” I asked the guy at the counter. He smiled at me, and very gently said, “Well, the younger crowd does.”

I take your point, sir. I take your point.

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If you need a little boost, I suggest you watch this little video that my yoga teacher posted. We should all be more like Jessica! I can do anything good! Come on, repeat after me! I can do anything good!

Leaping With Joy

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Happy Leap Year Extra Day, everyone! Leap Year Extra Day seems to be the least appreciated of the holidays, probably because it’s just an extra day in February. I celebrated by shovelling a tiny bit of snow for the first time in a while.

Have you noticed that I have not been complaining about the weather this winter? We’ve hardly had a winter, really; there have been only a handful of cold days since October, and of those, not one has been below minus 25. That, my friends, is a win. And yes, like any good Calgary girl worth her Stampede wear, I am cognizant of the fact that winter cannot truly be declared over prior to the May long weekend, but still. Getting through January and February with greatly-above-average temperatures is absolutely glorious, and even if that means we are going to get a ton of snow in the next few months, well, so be it. It has been so warm that the leaf buds on the lilacs are starting to swell, and the day lilies are popping tiny green shoots out of the ground. Fortunately, the residents in my garden have been chosen largely due to their extreme hardiness, so even if we do get two feet of snow, they will be fine.

Another thing of note that I have not been complaining about: the book fair. Last week was the book fair – it was my sixteenth! – and I was not at all stressed out about it. For one thing, I have been transitioning my duties to the co-coordinator in anticipation of my Book Fair Lady Resignation in March of 2017, and she has really hit the ground running. (HI HAYDEE). She did nearly all the prep work for it, so I felt like I was on easy street. In fact, now that I see the light at the end of the Book Fair Tunnel, I am starting to feel a bit emotional about it. I really just had a live in the moment feeling and enjoyed the kids and their incredible excitement about the fair. One kindergartener was vibrating with excitement at the thought of buying a Lego Ninjago book; that excitement coupled with the fact that I’ve really seen some of these kids grow up vis a vis their book choices gave me a mixed feeling of contentment with my Book Fair Lady lot in life and also pre-nostalgia. I did not even feel impatient when I received six questions about the cost of the posters ($5) in a ninety-second span, nor did I tire of explaining that the cupcake wasn’t an actual cupcake but a pencil sharpener. I just thought, it won’t be long until I will no longer be the Book Fair Lady, and then I might miss saying The posters are five dollars, yes, the Minecraft one is also five dollars, and so is the Batman one, they are all five dollars, yes, Shopkins too.

It’s wonderful that the kids are that excited, but even better was the fact that this year we’ve raised over $8500 for the library, ELL, and home reading programs. So I feel great satisfaction due to the money raised and general student happiness. This feeling even extended to doing the book reorders on Friday, since demand for certain items much exceeded supply. People, I had to order an all-time record of sixty-seven books. Nineteen of those were “Stampy’s Lovely Book,” which I had never heard about before. The cover was Minecraft-esque, so I wondered why I had never heard of Stampy, given my children’s penchant for crafting tables and the like. Jake informed me that Stampy is a YouTuber, but not one that he deems worthy of notice. “He’s super LAME, Mom,” he said when I asked about it. “He talks about Minecraft, but in a totally lame way.” Jake seems to be in the minority, however, given the clamouring for Stampy at the book fair. Tomorrow the orders come in, and I am wondering how to effectively manage my schedule. I’ve never had to distribute sixty-seven books before.

Time, it flies. On Wednesday I passed off my Book Fair duties to a couple of devoted volunteers (HI JEN HI BERNY) and I took Mark to the orthodontist. We now have a metal mouth in our midst! To be honest, I was expecting things to go, how shall I say this, not well. I was very pleasantly surprised; I think his expectations were so low that the whole experience was much better than anticipated. “I thought it would be like someone hot gluing metal in my mouth!” he said, which, what? I thought it was well explained to him but perhaps not.

In any case, he was sore for the first two days, and now seems to be just fine. He’s thrilled with the orthodontic swag bag given to him that included such thrilling things as an electric toothbrush and mouthwash. So all is happiness and roses in the Boy House.

Heyyyyyyy Macarena.

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You guys, Christie Brinkley is turning 62 next month. 62! And yes, this should seem unsurprising given that the Age of the Supermodels was the Eighties, and the Eighties were three decades ago but my point is, have you seen a photo of Christie Brinkley lately? Google one right now, I’ll wait. Or, better yet, here’s an Instagram photo from a few months back. My god, forget the eye cream, I need something stronger. Is there any way to completely rid myself of Bitchy Resting Face? I’ll take any advice that I can get.

Oh well, it’s not like my face is my fortune, or that an awesomely talented musician wrote a song about me or anything (that I know of) so I guess I’ll make peace with my non-Christie-Brinkley-appearance. But still, DAMN.

Time just flies by, doesn’t it? Today I learned that 2016 is the year that the Macarena turns 20. Somewhere there exists a photo of me – in cut-off denim shirts and a red crop top – doing the Macarena in a bar in Mexico. I cannot find the photo but I do have a photo of me in that same outfit, drinking a margarita:

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That hair, though.

Other songs that turn twenty this year include Champagne Supernova, Killing Me Softly, and No Diggity, if you want to shake your head in disbelief about the Flight of Time.

The Flight of Time felt more like a crawl this week, though. The first week back to regular routines and schedules always feels a bit strange. Technically it was a short week, since the kids had Monday off of school, but I had booked them in for an orthodontist check-up first thing in the morning. I had expected just a “we’ll see you in six months” appointment, and that is what happened for Jake. Mark, however, has lost his last baby tooth and braces are imminent. He had moulds made and X-ray imaging done, and so it feels like I’m entering a new era; The Orthodontia Years. Or, since he’s expected to have them less than two years, The Orthodontia Months. Teenage angst is not far off! Sunrise, sunset.

A nice aspect of this orthodontist’s office is that the kids get to spin a wheel, similar to a slot machine, and then they receive a prize. It’s like a graduated version of crappy dentist office prizes; Jake got two free cookies from Cookies by George, and Mark got a gift card to Kernels. Enjoy the popcorn while you can, buddy! Since it was a day off, after the (unexpectedly long) appointment we went to the mall to collect their prizes. “Isn’t it great we get this free stuff?” the kids asked, and I refrained from pointing out that “included” is not the same as “free.”

Since we were at the mall anyway, me and my dark undereye bags decided to go into the Kiehl’s store. I love the Kiehl’s store. It feels like I’m really Doing Something Important, what with the sales associates standing around in white lab coats, and their brisk business-like attitude. There’s no hippie-dippiness going on around here. You have a problem. They have a solution. I ended up purchasing something called “Powerful-Strength Line-Reducing Eye-Brightening Concentrate” which isn’t something that succinctly rolls off your tongue, but it describes exactly what I want in an eye cream.

I tried to take a photo of my undereye bags for a “before” shot, but the result was so depressing I’m not sure I can post it. I mean, really. I drink a ton of water. I eat well. I exercise. I get about seven hours of sleep a night, and more on weekends. Why, then, do I look like an extra in the Thriller video? No wonder no one knew what I was dressed up as for Halloween – my undereye bags are like extra-large undereye Samsonites.

TGI Friday, am I right? Does anyone have plans for the weekend? I am still working my way through Game of Thrones, and I’m now in the third season – i.e., I am losing my will to live. The problem with binge-watching these shows is that they take over one’s subconscious. I remember this feeling with Breaking Bad; too many episodes in a row and I started to feel sweaty and shaky and have weird dreams. Those weird dreams were NOTHING compared to Game of Thrones-inspired dreams. HOO BOY.

I see your Elf on a Shelf, and I raise you a group of snowmen on the bathroom counter

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After a fairly warm fall/ early winter, the world is suddenly covered with a thick blanket of snow and very, very cold. It looks very pretty and of course the children are delighted with the festivity of fluffy snow a week before Christmas, but on Wednesday I had an early-morning spot on the news and I woke up to 10 cm of snow and traffic in a snarly mess. This happened the last time I was on the news, which filled me with slight foreboding. Fortunately, I got there safely and the spot went off without a hitch. However, I have been incorporating all the appetizers I made for the show into dinners since then, so as not to waste them. It’s filling my entire family with puzzlement. You know that you’re a rigid person when your husband is completely SHOCKED to discover tortilla wraps for dinner on a Wednesday, and tacos on a Thursday. “What next?” he asked last night as he warily filled a taco shell, “Are we not having pitas for dinner tomorrow?” He almost fell over when I told him no, we weren’t.

Today is the last day of school, and all pretence of academia is long gone. Speaking of which, I forgot to mention the added-insult-to-injury of Jake’s week-long field trip: each child was required to pay an extra $50 for the honour. $50 so that the kids could be bored out of their minds and learn nothing, with the only highlight being the indoor garden. OUTRAGE.

Anyway, it’s pajama day at school, and after many years of shunning pajama day, my children trudged through the snow with their flannel bottoms tucked into their boots. I’m not the biggest fan of it myself – but at least the kids will be comfortable as they watch movies and eat party treats. Mark is watching the Polar Express with his Grade 1/2 buddy class, which he says is lame, but okay for the buddies I GUESS.

It’s a tradition of mine to send festively-shaped sugar cookies to class for every special occasion: birthdays, Halloween, Valentine’s Day, and Christmas. I’ve been doing it so long that now the boys’ longtime classmates ask if I’m going to send cookies. Frankly, it makes me feel a bit like a rock star when I see them in the halls and they tell me that my cookies are superior to every other cookie they’ve ever had. I mean, you cannot hear that kind of compliment without it going to your head a little bit.

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Between appetizers, cookies, and making peppermint bark and truffles for teacher gifts, it’s been a busy week in the kitchen. Main teachers also get gift cards, but I like to send chocolates to the office staff and the teachers who supervise the crossing guards. My kids are both crossing guards and the supervisory role is a stressful one, given the asshole way people drive through the crosswalks.

So the boys went loaded down with cookies, teacher gifts, and snowpants, since they are going to be sledding with friends after early dismissal this afternoon. And just to make my life even more awesome, they are at the age that I don’t have to stand in the snow and wait for them. I’m dropping off the sleds and then going back to my cozy house; they will sled and then WALK HOME, IT IS A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE. I mention this to give hope to all you mamas out there who are working up a sweat wrangling your children into winter gear, freezing to death watching them narrowly miss the brick walls of the school, and then managing both the tears when faceplants in the snow occur and sudden meltdowns because snow is in the mittens. One day soon your children will walk home when they are done, carrying their own sleds, with no supervision. IT IS GLORIOUS.

Another glorious thing: we got a Roomba. Someone was mentioning the other day how hard it is to really “wow” teens and tweens at Christmas. I mean, at a certain age they are just not going to be as excited getting a video game/ books/ shirts/ new gloves (all things my own children are receiving this year) as they were when a Thomas the Tank Engine table magically appeared in the basement. That’s part of the growing-up process UNLESS you decide to do something incredible like BUY A ROOMBA. We ran it in our carpeted basement this morning and two things occurred to me: a) our vacuum is clearly too old to be effective anymore because the filter needed cleaning twice, grosssssss, and b) watching a Roomba maneuver around furniture and exercise equipment was more fun than anyone could have imagined. We were all cheering the Roomba, giving it positive reinforcement (GREAT JOB, ROOMBA!), and projecting human feelings onto it (YOU’RE SO SMART, ROOMBA, WE ARE SO PROUD OF YOU!). No need for a late-in-life baby, we are all embracing the Roomba like the Christmas miracle that he is. Who knew we had an empty space in our hearts, filled only by a robotic vacuum cleaner?

Also filling empty spaces in our hearts is our tiny snowman collection. When I had a tiny light-less tree in my first apartment, I bought a set of tiny snowmen to decorate it. They were cheap, from Wal-mart, but very cute. Almost twenty years later, all their hooks have fallen off, but I put a handful of them on the bathroom counter to make showering and other bathroom activities super-festive.

Santa

One morning I finished my breakfast to see that my husband had rearranged all the snowmen, so that instead of the dull little groups of two or three I had them in the bathroom was transformed into a snowman hide-and-seek game.

hide and seek hiding snowman

And, like Donkey Kong, it was on. We have all been switching the snowmen to different vignettes and then seeing if anyone else can guess what they are doing. I admit, my ideas run towards the dull – a yoga class, a conga line, everyone in a circle singing Christmas carols – but the testosterone in the house has led to slightly non-Christmassy themes.

Younglings

Such as, Anakin brutally slaying the younglings so that his power, Herod-like, would be unchallenged.

The other day Jake said “I call the snowmen today!” and busily rearranged them. It was a bit later when I went in to see the initially startling result:

lightsaber

Before you express concerns that I have a Rosemary’s Baby kind of situation around here, it is a LIGHT SABER. Just a light saber. We are going to see The Force Awakens tomorrow, and excitement is through the roof and coming through extensively in our snowman-vignette game. Light saber. Not work of the devil.

Chocolate and no more moustaches

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This week has been frantically busy and it’s only Tuesday. Actually, it’s only 6:30 in the morning, on Tuesday, but it feels like it should be at least Thursday. Not to mention it’s December 1; I feel simultaneously like it’s still mid-November but it’s also almost Christmas, so it’s confusing to be in my brain right now.

December 1 marks the unveiling of the Advent calendars! I had bought the boys each a Lindor one, forgetting that my mother-in-law sends them each a calendar as well, so they will be doing fine on the chocolate front. She sent them Kinder Surprise calendars, which makes me feel like I have some kind of contraband. I guess we are not in the US, so it’s not really contraband. Did I mention it’s 6:30 in the morning?

We have a wooden calendar as well, and I used to fill it with treats, and then later I copied Lynn’s idea (HI LYNN) of putting in little slips of paper with fun Christmassy activities for us to do together. However, my creative juices went dry and I would write “go sledding after school” or “read a Christmas book” on at least 50% of the days. Then last year I came up with the idea to write down nice things I noticed about each boy, and put it in the calendar for them to read later. For example “Today I was so happy when you emptied your laundry basket without being asked,” or “Today I liked when you gave your brother a hug when he was feeling down.” I found that by the end of the month they were doing a lot of extra things around the house, so it turned out quite nicely.

I’ve noticed this year some people are doing reverse Advent calendars – putting food for the Food Bank in empty wine cases – or “Acts of Kindness” calendars, and I might try that another year. For now, I’ll stick with this one.

Another great thing about December 1 is that it’s the end of Movember! There are a lot of men who look fine in moustaches; mostly men of my father’s generation or possibly older, and the occasional football coach/ police officer type. Sam Elliott still rocks a moustache, and so does Tom Selleck, but I do still find Movember a bit startling.

 

Hall and Oates

MagnumPI

SamElliott

I had to include Hall and Oates in there.

Happy December, everyone! Time to get on with my day. xo

Maybe Pumpkin Spice Potato Chips really are a thing.

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You know those moments in parenting where you just don’t know how you got here, and you just can’t believe this is happening? I had one of those yesterday when Jake came home from school, completely excited about this cool new game he wants to get called Dungeons and Dragons.

I just don’t know where to go from here.

In other news, did you know it’s almost Halloween? Holy moly, did October speed by. Remember when I said that I was just swimming and swimming until October 18, and after that things would settle down? Hardy har, it seems to me that I forgot about, you know, LIFE. Not that I would say I’m any busier than anyone else – we’re all busy – but let me take this opportunity to say two words: BOOK FAIR. Yes, Book Fair Number Fifteen is rapidly approaching, and although – thank god – I have a co-coordinator who is going to take over one entire day for me, it’s still a bit of a thorn in my side. Yesterday I felt like I had things under control: I had made up a schedule for all twenty-six classes to visit the fair twice over a two-day span – the fair itself is taking place in the staff room, thanks to our overcrowded school situation – and the volunteer spots had started to fill out. Then I had an email from the principal informing me of a little glitch in the schedule that I had been unaware of, and although she immediately offered helpful solutions, I just sat and stared out the window for a few minutes. I could actually feel myself deflate.

But this is my fourth-to-last fair, so I’ve been cheering myself on like an aerobicize instructor from the Eighties: and four more, and three more, and two more…

So here comes November, with the book fair and Christmas shopping to avoid the fiery hell that is the mall in December, and the ordering of Christmas cards, and the baking of many festive treats so that they may be photographed and published asap. Speaking of which, I’m going to digress for a few minutes to tell you to read my Meatless Mummy column over at Yummy Mummy Club, for all your meatless (and decadent holiday baking) needs. I’m also going to point out that I have a joint project with Hannah and Allison, called Throwing It Back, for all your nostalgic-for-the-eighties-and-nineties needs. So if I’m not writing here, I’m over at one or both of those places, writing about chickpeas and rolling your jeans. This ends my public service announcement.

The best thing about November, in my opinion, is that it marks the end of the Reign of Pumpkin Spice. I know, I know. Everyone loves pumpkin spice. Everyone except me, apparently. I know I’m in the minority on this one, and truly, I don’t care that much – let your freak pumpkin spice flag fly, people – but the end of the Reign of Pumpkin Spice marks the beginning of the Reign of Peppermint, which is my favourite thing ever. Bless you, peppermint flavouring.

Is it me, or has the pumpkin spice trend officially gone over the top? Driving back from Sylvan Lake, the orange-hued Kubota dealership outside of Red Deer had a sign saying “We ARE Pumpkin Spice,” which made me laugh, a little. I would have taken a photo had I not been hurtling down the highway. In the grocery store was this display:

PumpkinSpiceOreo

Hey, I’m not judging. I’ve tried mint Oreos and they were pretty amazing, and that’s coming from someone who doesn’t even like Oreos. I’m just wondering if we’ve reached peak pumpkin spice popularity, or if next year Lay’s will come out with Pumpkin Spice Potato Chips, or maybe Pumpkin Spice Doritos. Maybe McDonald’s will come out with a Seasonal Pumpkin Spice McRib. Maybe these things have already happened, I don’t know. As an economist, I kind of want to graph out the trends and the market share of Pumpkin Spice What Have You in September and October, and the growth in popularity over the past few years. Perhaps I should; perhaps I should apply for a grant to study the ubiquity of pumpkin spice and its effect on cancer, or something. There could be a whole correlation-versus-causation debate, like the one currently heating up over bacon and other smoked meats.

MAYBE THIS IS A NOBEL PRIZE-WINNING IDEA.

Speaking of cookies, yesterday I went to make Halloween-shaped sugar cookies for the kids’ classroom parties. While I was in my flurry of travel, a few weeks ago, I decided to make some of my mom’s never-fail sugar cookie dough to throw in the freezer for this exact reason. I was trying to be on the ball, and I would have been, if I hadn’t been so caught up in packing/ unpacking/ trying to fit work in/ etc. I remember clearly throwing together a banana bread for the kids’ snack, and then whipping up a batch of sugar cookie dough. At the time, I thought the dough felt odd, but I thought no more about it, until yesterday, when I rolled out all the shapes and thought the dough seemed rather soft.

I took my first batch of ghosts out of the oven, and they had all spread together to make one giant obese ghost. The pumpkins were just the same. My never-fail dough had failed. In hindsight, I think perhaps I was so busy multitasking that I only added two out of the three required cups of flour. I managed to whip up another batch, which worked perfectly, and the kids were only too happy to eat the batch of flat misshapen cookies. All is well in my world again.

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