COWBOY COOKIES

“Made with real Cowboys, these cookies are sure to make you say, ‘Giddy up!'”

1/2 cup Butter

1/2 cup Sugar

1/2 cup Brown Sugar

1 Egg

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1 1/3 cups Flour

1 teaspoon Baking Soda

1 teaspoon Baking Powder

1/4 teaspoon Salt

1/2 teaspoon Cinnamon

1 1/3 cups Rolled Oats

1 cup M&Ms

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Cream the butter, sugar, and brown sugar.

Mix in the egg and vanilla extract.

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

Mix in the rolled oats and M&Ms.

Drop rounded Tablespoon sized balls of dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 10 minutes or until the bottoms of the cookies have browned.

Let rest on baking sheets for 5 minutes, before removing.

Makes about 40 cookies.

Revised source – “Cowboy Cookies” recipe as found in the “Simple Pleasures” by Resurrection Lutheran Church in Woodbury, Minnesota.

Between tag team ubering our children here and there, my lovely wife and I found ourselves in the most unusual situation. We had 15 minutes. Alone. Together. No kids. At home.

Wink, wink, say no more. Oh wait, that’s right. We’re exhausted and there’s dirty dishes in the sink. No bother, I’ll take it, because my wife is pleasing to my eyes and the Palmolive is soothing on my skin.

“SHOPPING CART TRASH”

Left by another

I don’t wanna touch

Shopping cart trash

I am suspicious so very much

Sunday morning, I began my rounds rustling children up for church.

First up. Knock, knock, open door. “Good morning, Sam.” Startled, “Huh?” in response. Lights on.

Next up. Knock, knock, open door. “Good morning, Jacob.” “Grumble, grumble,” in response. Lights on.

Two down, one to go. Knock, knock, open door. “Good morning, Ben.” No response. Then I remembered, my boy was at a sleepover and I got a little sad.

You see, my life just ain’t right with any number less than my three sons.

You know that day? That glorious day? The day I speak of is Father’s Day. The day when things are said such as, “Dad, put down that dirty plate. I am doing the dishes tonight.” Or, “Dad, you relax. I’ll mow the lawn.” Or, “Dad, that laundry basket has my name on it.” Yes, that glorious day, when children absorb all of my chores, real or imagined.

Well, one year. Just one year. I’d like Father’s Day to come in the dead of Winter. Why? So I can hear the unlikely words, “Dad, we are going to go out in the backyard and chisel mummified dog poop out of the frozen tundra, so that we don’t have a major problem in the Spring.” A father can dream.

It was Saturday morning. 9AMish. Half the family was still asleep. The other half was lounging in pajamas. (Don’t worry about how a family of five is divided into halves, just roll with it.)

I had an uneasy feeling. We should be doing something. Anything. It was unsettling to relax.

October was most likely the last time we had a Saturday morning with nothing scheduled. Our day was clear until 5:30.

Ah, lazy. So this is what you feel like. Nice. Stay for this morning, then let’s plan on seeing each other again. August sounds good.

At my son’s school event, the organizers stalled for time. Their strategy? Trivia.

First question, “Who wrote ‘The Little Mermaid?'”

I answered without hesitation, “Hans Christian Andersen!”

Instead of looking at me with respect, they looked at me with a bit of joking concern. “I didn’t know you were a big Little Mermaid fan?” Ha, ha, ha. Yuck, it up, because who got the answer right? Me.

I was in need of trivia redemption. I got ready to pounce. My chance came a few questions later, “Name the four U.S. Presidents who were assassinated.”

I jumped at it! “Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy.” Correct. Aced it. Sadly, knowing a fairytale author may cause concern, but knowing assassinated leaders really raises red flags.

Well, stop people. I happen to be a graduate of McKinley Elementary School and yes, I do like the Little Mermaid. Take that trivia and pursue it.

DARK AS NIGHT ESPRESSO COOKIES

“Don’t be scared of these wickedly delicious cookies. Rich chocolate flavors highlighted with a kiss of espresso will make you want to turn to the dark side. Enjoy!”

1 Tablespoon Espresso Powder

1 Tablespoon Boiling Water

1/2 cup Butter

2/3 cup Sugar

1/4 cup Brown Sugar

1 Egg

1/4 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

1 cup Flour

3/4 cup Cocoa Powder

1 teaspoon Baking Soda

1/4 teaspoon Salt

1/2 cup Chopped Dried Cherries

3/4 cup Semisweet Chocolate Chips

1/2 cup White Chocolate Chips

1 teaspoon Shortening

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.

Mix together the espresso powder and water. Set aside.

Mix together the butter, sugar, and brown sugar.

Mix in the egg and vanilla extract.

Mix in the expresso-water mixture.

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

Stir in the dried cherries and semisweet chocolate chips.

Drop Tablespoons of dough onto parchment paper lined baking sheets.

Bake for 8 minutes or until the cookies have set.

Cool completely.

Microwave together the white chocolate chips and shortening, while stirring every 30 seconds.

Drizzle onto cookies.

Makes about 24 cookies.

Revised Source – “Double-Chocolate Espresso Cherry Drops” recipe in “The Great Minnesota Cookie Book” by Lee Svitak and Rick Nelson.

So before this word is taken, a little origin story. Today (January 9, 2019) at work (2:26PM) to be precise, my friend Lisa misspoke. A perfectly inadvertent blend of the words “commiserate” and “measure.” Hence the birth of “commeasurate.”. So if you ever hear a differing etymology of “commeasurate,” you know this is the true source. Published first here on the internet for all time. Now, without further adieu, the birth of a word. Enjoy!

commeasurate (verb) – complain with someone about a measurement.

You are welcome.

My lunch bag died. A full blown zipper blowout. No saving it. The bag was dead.

At home, I was paired up with a long neglected lunch bag from the depths of a closet. How many days did it sit in the dark, just waiting for its day to carry my midday nourishment? Well, that day has come.

Picking it up, I examined my new workplace companion. Then I remembered why it had been banished to the back of the closet. The bag has a vertical design. Tall and skinny. Good for a fashion model, bad for a lunch bag. Especially a lunch bag living in a home with horizontally oriented Tupperware.

Now a dilemma awaits. Fight the bag’s orientation and stuff Tupperware down into that bad boy, until it bursts. The other option is to place the bag on its side and pretend that it’s horizontally inclined. This of course will require ignoring its vertical handle and carrying it like a football. Always fear would surround me. Fear that I would forget and grab the handle, lift the bag, and have all of the horizontally oriented food placed on their side. My salads would sadly slide to a scrambled end.

Scrambled. Good for egg. Bad for my lunch.