I intended to go hiking, today. I had hoped that heading up to the mountains would help me clear my brain. I wanted that rejuvenated feeling that comes when you’ve spent miles traversing along a trail and sweat is dripping from every pore, like some sort of atonement for your inattentiveness to the world outside yourself.
Instead, I got to meet Jennifer’s grandparents. His grandmother is like mine: old-ish, but energetic; incredibly religious; convinced that chocolate is the most important food group. In the three years that Jennifer and I have been friends, he has managed to meet most of my family. I have met very little of his. So, today was a milestone, I suspect.
After his grandparents left, Jennifer barbecued. Then I made cookies. Oatmeal-craisin. They are a tad dry. I’ve never had my cookies be too dry, before.
I love to make desserts. I derive a great amount of joy from making safe spaces for other people. Desserts are like a Safe Space declaration, in my family. I like to extend those spaces to others–specifically, Jennifer. So, I frequently find myself making desserts for him. Well, for whomever wants them while happening to pass through his kitchen.
But, today, my cookies were too dry. And I didn’t go hiking. I have this need for detox that is not being met.