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“I was baptized in a creek. Wait…I wasn’t baptized in anything remotely resembling a creek. I was baptized in a garbage can.”
-Katy

As Annie mentioned, it’s a lovely little movie. All I’m doing is stealing its title.

I’m hanging out in the kitchen instead of going to hear Donald Hall read. It was a tough decision, but chocolate chip oatmeal cookies won out over The Ox-Cart Man. Sorry, Mr. Hall. I don’t feel like leaving the house at the moment. At least not any more than a nice stroll and perhaps a trip to the grocery store.

So I’m in the kitchen, in the middle of making cookies from the recipe I copied out in pencil when I was about 10. The original recipe called for raisins, but why do that to an otherwise perfect cookie? There’s nothing wrong with raisins, but chocolate is just so…superior. I used to have this recipe memorized. That was a great period in my life. I think baking is what pulled me through the torments of middle school. Baking and books. Those were my main activities, that and ballet. And when I hung out with friends, we baked. And talked about books. On occasion, we read the book simultaneously.

Oh, that’s its own story. The Giver. Our 7th grade teacher was Mrs. Morgan, who was this breath of fresh air after should-have-retired-10-years-ago Mrs. Neuville. Anyway, Mrs. Morgan, in addition to being generally wonderful, knew that 7th graders still like to be read to, even if they don’t know it. So she read us The Giver, by Lois Lowry. And oh, how I hung on every word. And Bee and I, impatient children that we were, became so desperate after a few chapters that we went to the library, checked out the single copy we could get our hands on, and spent the night at my house, reading the book over each other’s shoulders. Oh the crick in our necks. But oh, how it was worth it. Back at school, we were in the know. We smiled smugly as others discussed how it might end. And we heard the story a second time.

If you don’t have a Mrs. Morgan to read it to you, I highly recommend the audio book read by Ron Rifkin. It’s a great telling. A great book. It gets me every time.

Okay, back to those cookies.

May 2005
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