So the Man came home from work last week raving, and I mean raving, about these cookies. A coworker had brought some in and apparently no one could stop eating them.
Harumph. I make good cookies.
When I choose to bake.
After hearing about these cookies for many days, I told him to bring home the recipe so I could make them.
Rats. They're pretty good. No, they're very good. Actually, they're a perfect fall cookie.
So I made the Man taste test them to tell me if they tasted like the ones his coworker made.
Yours are better, honey.
Ha. He's been married a long time. He knows how to answer those kinds of questions.
Some high school friends and I got together for dinner Saturday night. We were kind of a small group this time, lots of us couldn't make it.
But the ones that were there had a great time. Lots of conversation, wine tasting, delicious chicken cordon bleu for dinner. Such a good night.
We talked for hours. Hours. You would think we would run out of things to say but, nope, not us. We talked politics, even though we're not supposed to. We shamelessly bragged about our children, and when needed, admitted they're not the perfect little darlings we'd like them to be all the time. Nope, they're human.
We dragged out our yearbook and ran through it, trying to recall names we hadn't heard in a very long time. We caught up with who was living where, which classmates were no longer with us, the parents of friends that have passed away.
Time. And life.
That's what we were really talking about. And how glad we were that we had all reconnected.
It's going by so fast. And there's so much left to do.
Gotta get busy.
But slowing down with some good friends, and a warm meal, and a glass of wine is needed too.
Thanks, girls. I feel recharged.