Years ago, a friend of mine at work had a desk calendar listing the Canadian, American, and Mexican national holidays.  One day, he was scheduling appointments and said, “Hey Dave, did you know Benito Juarez’s birthday is coming up?”  Why no, I did not.  I did not even know who Benito Juarez was (by the way, he is known as the “Abraham Lincoln of Mexico.”  Way to go, Benito.).  It did however sound like a great excuse to go eat some Mexican food over lunch.  This marked my first celebration of Benito Juarez’s birthday.

 If only Benito’s birthday were every day.

Flash forward to today.  To honor Benito’s birthday, which is tomorrow (Monday, March 16), I looked for a fitting Mexican cookie recipe.  I had previously baked Mexican Wedding Cookies and Mexican Anise Cookies, so I wanted something different.  Amazingly, typing “tequila cookie recipe” into Google produced a real winner, “Margarita Cookies.”  Benito would have been proud.

MARGARITA COOKIES

“These refrigerator cookies are a true delight.  Crisp with a refreshing lime taste, Margarita Cookies will help you celebrate Benito Juarez’s birthday in flavorful style.  Enjoy.”

Cookie Ingredients

¾ cup Butter

1 cup Sugar

8 drops Green Food Coloring

1 Egg

1 Tablespoon Lime Zest

1 teaspoon Orange Extract

2 cups Flour

¼ teaspoon Salt

½ cup Turbinado Sugar

½ teaspoon Margarita Salt (the type sold in the store to put around the top rim of your margarita glass)

Drizzle Ingredients

1 cup Powdered Sugar

1 Tablespoon Water

1 Tablespoon Tequila (preferably taken from an old long forgotten bottle in your basement)

Drink one shot of tequila and suddenly remember why you never drink straight tequila.

Cream the butter and sugar.

Mix in the green food coloring, egg, lime zest, and orange extract.

Mix in the flour and salt.

Form dough into two 9-inch long logs and wrap in wax paper.

Refrigerate for one hour.

Combine the Turbinado sugar and margarita salt.

Roll each chilled log of dough in the sugar/salt mixture.

Set aside the remaining sugar/salt mixture.

Cut the log into ¼ inch thick slices.

Place dough slices on parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 14 minutes or until lightly browned on the cookie bottoms.

Cool completely on wire racks.

Stir together the powdered sugar, water, and tequila.

Drizzle over cookies.

Sprinkle tops with remaining sugar/salt mixture.

Makes about 45 cookies.

Revised Source:  “Margarita Cookies” recipe on www.lovefromtheoven.com, which was adapted from McCormick’s “Sugar Rimmed Margarita Cookies.”

You know that spring is here, when my 11-year-old son Jacob has his socks take up residence by his baseball glove and fresh cut flowers.

For the time being, I will ignore the fact that they are also resting on the dining room table.  I will ignore it, because spring is in the air and only happy thoughts are welcome.

I like my blog posts to be perfect.  A thing of beauty, if only in my eyes.  Sometimes (more like often) I fall short.  Plenty of spelling errors.  Countless grammatical blunders (my writing style alone justifies constant activation of Microsoft Word’s “green underline”).  Thankfully there is a “Save Draft” function, where I can save an idea and come back later to clean it up.  I know you are thinking, “If he only publishes the ‘good stuff,’ the other posts must be downright horrendous.”  Yes and no.  Some are pretty bad and die on the Editing Room floor, others however I just was being too picky and should have run with, instead of waiting for perfection.  This morning’s post falls in the latter category.  I was looking for something profound.  Some wonderful way to express my love for my oldest son Jacob on his eleventh birthday (months ago in November).  Unfortunately, I did not think the post was “just right” and left it in the “Draft” folder.

Yesterday’s post, “Change for Better,” inspired me to revisit my draft that I had written for Jacob’s birthday.  I’m glad I did.  Sure, there are unfinished aspects to the narrative.  Sure, it lacks a truly profound message.  It does however come from the heart.  Sometimes there’s no need to look for more, that’s all you need.

[My draft from Jacob’s birthday on November 26, 2014, the day before Thanksgiving, follows.  My apologies for the delay, but better late than never.]

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I am still amazed that in eleven short years, the baby in the above photo can become the young man in the below photo.  I would also like to clarify that having Mom’s chocolate waffles on his birthday was Jacob’s idea.  He also received a cake, I promise.

Ha!  Below is proof of a birthday cake.

Also shown in this photo is another amazing reason to be thankful.  Yep, off to the left, is the chuckling face of Jacob’s sprite of a little brother, 5-year-old Ben.  Not shown is yet another brother, 7-year-old Sam.  God has been so generous and blessed our family so much with three handsome and charming boys.  God is great and my boys are proof.  Amen.

Today, I stopped into the office real quick to talk with my boss, Larry.  I was able to catch him in between meetings and as I left the office, I asked him about his next meeting.  He indicated that it was about “change” and wondered if I had any good stories to share.  Looking at him a bit puzzled, he clarified that I always opened my meetings with a story.

Larry was right.  It was a “Dave approach” to lead in with some sort of tale, either an old standby such as my favorite one about Benjamin Franklin and a chair in Independence Hall (I picked that one up from a Park Ranger) or some random event from the day (much like my daily blog posts).  Thinking for a moment, I was stumped.  Nothing came to mind.  I was out of stories.

Later in the day however, a story graced my mind.  It was a tale from a while back, when things appeared very grim.  You see I was working in a pretty toxic environment.  There was plenty of backstabbing and political gamesmanship.  A new election had been held and it was painfully apparent that I would be voted out of office in January.  I would be unemployed and we were expecting our first baby.  Life was worrisome.  Life was uncertain.  The looming change looked bad.

Our beautiful baby boy Jacob arrived late at night and by the next day, we were exhausted.  As Charlene and our new baby bonded, I drove home to feed and walk our dog.  Strolling around the neighborhood and trying desperately to apologize to our pup for our absence, my cell phone rang.  Back in 2003, the cell phone I was carrying was big and certainly hard to miss.  On the other end was a lifeline, a job offer.  At the time I viewed the job as a lateral move at best and was not overly thrilled, but it was a job.  I needed job security.  The Lord gave me what I needed.

Turns out, the job was a blessing tenfold.  The work environment was positive (sure, there were problems, but nothing like what I had previously faced) and my new Council was thrilled to have me.  Two years later, I was convinced that life could not get much better.  We now had the blessing of our two-year-old boy and all of the wonder that comes with being new parents.  I also had a job.  A good job, one where I was valued and free to make positive change.

Yes, sometimes “change” appears dreadful.  Sometimes it looks as if it will rip your life apart.  At those moments, the moments where nothing good is coming over the horizon, remember, life can surprise you.  Sometimes surprise you for the good.  Yes, “change” can be frightening, but it can also have a happy ending.  Keep your chin up and imagine the possibilities.  The Lord will bless you, just hold on and see. 

Late November 2003.  Eleven years later, Jacob is still my daily reminder that the Lord is looking out for me.  Sometimes “change” is scary, but sometimes wait and you will find blessings.  Blessings of a magnitude beyond your imagination.

Usually, the planner for our second grader Sam contains very standard items.  Things such as “Today, we had a math test” or “Tomorrow is our field trip.”  Today however was different.  Very different.

There, next to Wednesday, March 11, was the message, “Grandma Patty taught us about summarizing    We got to limbo”  What?  Who?  What?

First, who is Grandma Patty?  Second, she must be something to be able to teach about summarizing and limbo, as well.  Third, was the lesson somehow about summarizing a dance featuring a stick?  Fourth, again, who is this Grandma Patty?  Ah, the mysteries of the Second Grade planner and the secrets it holds.

A scanned copy of Sam’s mystifying planner entry.

It is good day at work, when the sun is shining, the weather says “spring,” and you get to travel to both Norway and Florida without ever leaving the county.

Although I may need some Dramamine, before tomorrow’s sequel…

[Please, note that the story portrayed in this blog post is true.  The photos however have been recreated in a lifelike office setting, even though the computer and phone in my work cubical are much nicer than those portrayed in the photos below.  Now sit down, because this is going to be something.  Something truly true.]

Prepare yourself for edge-of-your-seat excitement.  Prepare yourself to be swept into a captivating world.  Prepare yourself for an immersive bureaucratic experience.  Get ready for “Travel Mug Drama.”

Arriving at work, I settled into my cubicle and began checking my email.  I was doing well sorting messages, responding, and crafting brilliant paths forward on a variety of projects.  Okay, well maybe I was not doing that great, but I was being pretty efficient and I was making progress on one project.  It was a pretty good start to the day.

Then I reached for a refreshing drink of coffee and (get ready) I misjudged the location of my travel mug (gasp!).

My wonderful travel mug, just sitting there, minding its own business. 

Artistic interpretation of my failed attempt at grasping my travel mug.

[Please, ignore my hand in this photo.  My CGI staff have the day off and were unavailable to edit out my hand in this photo.  Once again, please ignore the hand.] 

The mug teetered to one side (oh my!).

[Note again that my hand should not be present in this photo either.  Thank you for your understanding.]

It rolled on its base and tipped to the other side (good Lord!).

Then using my catlike quickness, in one swift motion I stabbed at the mug and grabbed it, before it plummeted to the new office carpeting below (sigh of relief).

Some of you are saying, “Dave, the travel mug had its lid on.  What was the danger?”  Well, look closely.  My favorite travel mug features a hairline crack on the top.  Another fall and the whole thing could have burst apart (all the people say, “Dave, I had no idea you were in such danger!”).

 Yep, I had survived another heartwrenching experience in my life of non-stop excitement.  Also, note that my travel mug includes a lipstick stain from my beautiful, talented, amazing, and eventually-reading-this-blog-post wife.  The lipstick has remained through dishwasher trips, through multiple dunks in a soapy sink, through lip upon lip taking a sip.  A lipstick stain that puts all of life in perspective.  Yes, even though I live a life of peril, I maintain a smile on my face, because I know that my wonderful wife will always be there for me.  Travel mug drama and all.

CORNFLAKE S’MORE COOKIES

“Faced with a lack of space in the cereal cabinet and an overabundance of cornflakes, I turned to the Internet for a cookie-based solution.  I thought I found the answer to my dilemma, instead I was met with sadness.  A great big dose of cookie sadness.  On the brightside, the cornflake mixture is delicious and I could eat a whole bowl of that on its own.  I was also able to salvage about two dozen cookies that ended up being thin and crisp with a brittle texture.  Unfortunately, the cookies bake uneven and the end result is far too greasy.  Don’t give these a try, unless you are feeling brave.  Time for a glass of wine and time to move on with only a quarter box full of cornflakes remaining.”

PS – Since I was so sad about this recipe, I included a narrative about one of my favorites at the end of this post.  Feel free to skip to the end and enjoy  my tribute to Hamentaschen.

PPS – After the cookies sat for the evening and completely cooled, they turned out okay.  Not great.  Not good.  Okay.  So in summary, all was not lost, but don’t set your expectations too high.

Cornflake Mixture Ingredients

5 cups Cornflakes

½ cup Powdered Milk

3 Tablespoons Sugar

1 teaspoon Salt

9 Tablespoons Butter

Cookie Ingredients

1 cup Butter

1¼ cups Sugar

2/3 cup Brown Sugar

1 Egg

½ teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1½ cups Flour

½ teaspoon Baking Powder

¼ teaspoon Baking Soda

1 teaspoon Salt

3 cups Cornflake Mixture, cooled

2/3 cup Mini Semi-Sweet Chocolate Chips

1¼ cups Mini Marshmallows

Preheat oven to 275 degrees.

Prepare the cornflake mixture by first roughly crushing the cornflakes in a bowl.

Stir in the powdered milk, sugar, and salt.

Melt the 9 tablespoons of butter.

Stir the melted butter into the cornflake mixture, until small clusters form.

Spread the cornflake mixture onto a parchment paper lined baking sheet.

Bake for 20 minutes or until the cornflake clusters are lightly toasted.

Let cool completely.

Cream butter, sugar, and brown sugar.

Mix in egg and vanilla extract.

Mix in flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt.

Mix in cornflake mixture.

Stir in mini chocolate chips and mini marshmallows.

Refrigerate dough for one hour.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Place tablespoon sized scoops of chilled dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Slightly flatten scoops of dough.

Bake for 10 minutes or until browned on the edges.

Makes about 48 cookies, if all goes well.

Revised Source:  The source has been deleted to protect the innocent.  Trust me, with my lousy review they really don’t want to be associated with my failed attempt.  I’m sure it is a good cookie, when prepared under exactly the right circumstances and the planets have aligned, but that’s not where I found myself.  Best of luck in baking this one and if you really want to know the source, give me a holler and I’ll share.

HAMENTASCHEN

“On page 62 of my cookie cookbook, ‘Today is a Great Day for a Cookie,’ you will find the recipe for Jewish Hamentaschen.  Hamentaschen are an apricot preserve filled cookie that is made during the festival of Purim.  Purim took place last week and celebrates the events recorded in the Book of Esther.  Hamen is the villain in the Book of Esther and legend has it that he wore a tri-corner hat (think George Washington style).  Well, this cookie has a triangle shape and resembles a tri-corner hat like the one Hamen wore, hence the name Hamentaschen.

Any who, the revenge theme aside, the Book of Esther is one of my favorite stories in the Bible.  First, it is a quick read (about 30 minutes), which can be devoured like a soap opera.  I also like that God acts through people in the Book of Esther.  It is not the frequent portrayal of an Old Testament God, who appears and exacts punishments.  Instead, this is a God who answers prayers and responds through the kindness and brave acts of others.  It is very much the portrait of a God I see acting in our lives daily.

So, enjoy.  Use this opportunity to bake up some Hamentaschen, read the Book of Esther, and have your own little Purim party.”

In the morning, I am a notoriously slow starter.  My brain takes a full hour before it is even operating at close to “Village Idiot” level.  This is only outdone by my brain on vacation, when it seemingly turns off completely, with the exception of essential life support systems.

Last night, I had trouble sleeping.  Probably due to a mixture of somewhat overweightness (a medical term, if ever there was one), middle age, and around 1AM every morning having a dog of medium proportions leap from the floor and land partially on my head.  Good thing my pillow absorbs some of the impact.  Not wanting to wake my wife, who was now cuddling with the formerly flying dog, I went downstairs to read.

Sitting in the living room, I was soon joined by our early rising son, 8-year-old Sam.  Sam is a kid that is constantly in movement, whether it be physically or mentally (see the illustrations below).

This is a good representation of me peering into an open refrigerator, as Sam runs laps around his plump elder.

This illustrates me moving to the other side of the kitchen to consume my grazing food of choice that I just snatched out of the open refrigerator, as Sam circled me.

No amount of caffeine is ever going to fully close this gap.

So there we were sitting in the living room, Sam who goes from 0 to 60 instantly upon waking up (he gets this entirely from his mother) and his father, who is still trying to fully comprehend that either of them are awake.  Then the first thing that exits Sam’s 2^nd Grade mouth, the very first thing was, “Did you know that time’s not real?”  Whoa, hold on son.  It’s too early for a deep thought.  Dad needs to catch up, little Einstein.  Let’s say we meet back here at 3PM, after Dad’s Saturday afternoon nap.  You bring a copy of Aristotle’s thoughts on time and a copy of NASA’s field training manual.  I will bring a pot of black coffee.

Being the third speaker to a group at work, I could see that the crowd’s attention was fading.  I knew I had to jazz up my presentation and fast.

I dug down deep and referenced an old story that a former boss of mine once told.  For the sake of your attention, I’ll just provide you with the punchline, “Admiral, we’re a lighthouse.”  As I delivered the punchline in a deadpan voice, there was a delay, then laughter.  Beautiful laughter.  I was doing well.

So well, that when I saw an opportunity for another joke, I embraced the moment.  For the sake of your attention, I will once again only provide you with the punchline, “I would advise against putting them on your salad.”  They weren’t expecting it and bam!  There was the second joke!  Surprise!  Perfectly delivered, the delay, then the laughter.  I was on fire!

I was doing so well that when I saw another opportunity, I took it.  It wasn’t the best bridge, the joke was delivered choppy, the person it was directed at did not smile, and the punchline was lame, “…and not many of them drive cars.”  Dead silence.  Fail.  Epic fail.  Overreach.  Epic overreach.

Let my story be a reminder, a tale of caution, a path to avoid.  When all is going well, when you have them eating out of the palm of your hand, resist the temptation.  Do the hard thing and walk away.  Always leave them wanting more.