I cannot seem to stop myself from finding new things to bake. I blame you, Internet, and your endless supply of recipes.
Also, I blame this new lotion I got, which smells like such an incredible lemon cookie that I had to try and make it. Sigh. My burden is heavy, but carry it I must.
All in all the weekend was productive--we moved our ginormous bed from under the window, AND changed the sheets, AND picked up Mrs. Bump from the airport, AND some other such and stuff.
I'm spent. I'm also a floury mess, but it was so much fun. Does anyone else just feel so happy when they're baking? I love thinking about what I'm going to bake, worrying about whether or not it is going to turn out, how much I can tinker with a recipe. Sometimes I feel like by the time I've made the recipe, I'll have one or two and then I'm done with eating it. I often take things in to work, but frankly I like my food to be appreciated and it isn't always gone by the end of the day. Nothing is sadder than a couple of cookies and some crumbs on the cookie plate at the end of the day. I take it personally, I do.
So apparently Mr. Bump's work is full of sweets piranhas, so I'm going to foist them off in that direction and see how it goes. Sometimes I think I would love to bake for a living, partly because then other people would eat what I bake and then I could keep baking because I would not be in the poorhouse from all the 5 lb bags of sugar and pound-blocks of butter that I end up buying with alarming frequency. I think as long as people would buy things and I had a good pair of shoes for standing all day, I could make it.
But I would have to alter my wardrobe to more white clothes.
Check over here for the recipes.