Flour Child

You know you've been baking with wild abandon when you wind up with flour on your shoulder and elbows, chocolate on your forehead, and vanilla sugar on the cat. On the other hand, at least I was enjoying myself.... I've managed to clean most of the dough and sugar off the counters, and the house smells delightfully of cookies, and the end product appears to have been well-received.

I've been baking scary amounts, recently - I can justify it by saying that it's a subconscious response to the change in seasons, the start of a final binge before the weather warms up and it's too hot in the kitchen to work with dough, but in all honesty I think it's more just sheer self-indulgence. I've used up almost a dozen eggs and a half-pound of brown sugar in the past week, and I still need to come up with a dessert idea for Monday's gaming group, and I can finagle at least a handful of other excuses before InterCon this weekend. (tpau, I don't suppose you want a birthday cake? I've got a marvelous-sounding recipe for chocolate gingerbread that I've been dying to try....)

I've still got flour on my elbows, and cookie dough remnants under my nails. And this time next week, I'll have bruised toes from dancing. My living room looks like a giant game of cat's cradle, with half a dozen balls of yarn from five different knitting and crocheting projects hopelessly entwined. I enjoy my hobbies far too much....