Sunday, December 17, 2006

My cookies look like Whitman

I had a very nice day Saturday. I spent the afternoon cleaning house in preparation for a party, doing a bit of reading, and talking to a dear friend about the holidays. In the evening, Coffeeboy and I hosted a latke party. About 10-11 friends, mostly from my department, came over, and everyone seemed to have a good time. It seemed to be a good mix of people, with enough in common to have something to talk about, and enough new people and topics left unexplored to have something to talk about. Coffeeboy, being the Jewish half here, served as latke chef, and cooked up some delicious latkes. Yum-my! Everyone ate lotsa latkes, and we sent a few home as leftovers. (I served as dishwasher, cleaning up the grease afterwards).

No one, however, commented that my cookies look like Whitman, as the title of this post implies. (Don't worry, I didn't expect them to). That only happens within the strange confines of my brainwaves, apparently. I'm not joking either! Look at this:

The snowman has a crooked hat... Whitman has a crooked hat.

Sand tart snowman


Santa has a beard... Whitman has a beard.
Snowman's beard


I even showed the first Whitman image to Coffeeboy, who confirmed that I'm not just seeing things in the snowmen.

Or maybe I am.

Holiday knitting pictures will return soon! I have a Hanukkah knit to show you all (after I remember to photograph it, if I can borrow Coffeeboy's feet long enough), and pretty soon a semi-super-secret sock FO. Stay tuned! I hope your weekends are going well!

3 comments:

Sheepish Annie said...

You know...they are a bit Whitmany! But in a good way. And right now, I would eat a cookie that looked like pretty much anything. Or a latke! Love those, too.

Why did I pick December to try and start eating a little better????? (those really are some good -lookin' cookies...)

schrodinger said...

Funny! The cookies look great, you have been busy haven't you?

cathy said...

I wonder if this is the UU/neo-Transcendentalist equivalent of seeing Mother Theresa in your cinnamon bun or the Virgin Mary in a piece of toast.