Although I’ve not yet sold my little house in Hartsville, many know that a lot has changed for me in recent months. I’ve married, moved to Orangeburg, and joined the advancement team at Claflin University.
As I move through the dozens of adjustments that are involved with such things as name changes and mortgages, a new church and a new office, the most important aspects of my life feel as reliable and comforting as a glass of iced tea bedazzled with condensation in July.
Friends and family continue to be close, and I am surrounded by good-natured people doing their best to do well by each other. I continue to try to live up to their examples, working as hard as I can to make a difference where I am.
And, while I have let my personal writing slip (it’s been 18 months since I last posted and a couple of years since I posted regularly), it is rare that a Friday morning passes without cookies in the oven.
Baking Friday Cookies is a satisfying habit that has been my practice for many years. Because I am eager to build new friendships here, and to nurture the lifelong relationships that have nurtured me, I want to get back to writing. It feels important to be able to express directly, what my cookies barely whisper, which is that this baker is blessed and grateful.
Today’s cookies are among my favorites. Like Christmas in July, snickerdoodles offer a rich treat that is utterly free of a baker’s most alluring tricks and gimmicks. No chocolate, no sprinkles, no frosting, no nuts. Featuring nothing but cinnamon and salted butter, these surprising gems get straight to the point. Like my friends and family, they are simply good.
Come and get ’em.
P.S. In case you’re wondering where Friday Cookies sit these days, you’ll find them waiting for you on the third floor of Claflin’s Tingley Hall.