This is a picture of a cookie. One of a batch I made back in September of 2008 to announce Alethea’s pending arrival. This cookie survived 3 months in the log cabin we were renting, a move into our current house and 11 long months sitting on our kitchen counter next to the knife block, for a grand embarrassing total of 14 months awaiting its close-up. I’m afraid that if things aren’t big and in the way, or pressingly urgent, I just don’t do them and that is a bad habit. Sigh. Well, the cookie has been photographed and is now in… well, it’s gone, let’s just put it that way.
The author neglects to mention the time we caught the cookie attempting to walk out our front door …
I don’t remember the incident to which you refer. You’ll have to remind me.
I saw it once and thought you were waiting for it to become petrified!
(It would make a good keepsake that way.) ;D
Maybe you should have bronzed it. Then you could have kept it forever.
Hey, it’s in our genes.