It's That Time

Christmas cookies at our house don't always mean marzipan and sprinkles. My Grandma Annie was a practical Mennonite baker who had to feed 7 boys and 2 girls. Only one of the girls was a cook and helper. I loved helping in the big farm kitchen where the massive table was also the family dining space.
I love all things oatmeal and date. These are so perfect that I save them for Christmas. I also freeze a few for my birthday in July.
I made a 4x batch again. Yum.
This is my tribute to a quiet and sweet Grandma. My way of saying, "I remember". I'm not alone, check out Panopticon.

You only get half the number of cookies because each takes two to sandwich the date filling. We made "smaller" ones for sharing, but the big ones are family only.

Please don't complain my cookies are too big. You wouldn't turn down a hamburger that size.

This was a week of lunches and gifts. I am surrounded by intelligent and interesting women. The drive eastward showed Mt. Cheam in her winter glory. I'll try not to make a habit of snapping pictures while I'm driving.

But I couldn't help this one of yesterday's sunrise over the Tsawassen flats. Such a glorious day to go pick up my son from the University of Victoria. We spent many weekends driving to soccer matches and I really enjoy his company.

Now my basement will be filled with boys again and we will maybe have enough cookies.