schvitzin'--und spritzin'
December 10, 2005, 6:53 A.M.

I came into the living room at about eight o'clock on Thursday night, and told Spouse "You're going to thing I'm nuts--but I feel like making cookies."
His reply was "What kind?" Apparently my the question of my sanity rested on my answer. I said "Well, if I had more butter, I'd make Spritz." His head started bobbing up and down eagerly as he said "Oh there's butter I bought butter we have plenty of butter!"

So I'm pretty sure he was behind me on the whole spritz cookie plan.

So I got to work, dug out my gun, mixed up my dough, and went to town.

I have the Holy Grail of cookie guns, an early eighties model of the fabulous "Presto Electric Food Gun". This makes shooting off a sheet full of cookies the work of a moment, compared to the hand-crank model my mom had. (The very memory of which gives me tendonitis!)

In two hours, I had 5 dozen pretty little cookies, sprinkled with red and green sugar, tucked away in an airtight box. And I�d even had time to clean up the kitchen!

I don�t know quite what hit me*, except that we were having a winter snowstorm and that had me wound up and full of nervous energy. But what is usually just another Christmas chore was quite enjoyable because it was what I felt like doing.

And in my quest to feel Christmassy, you can�t beat snow falling outside the window, the cosy smell of almond spritz baking, and the warm glow of the Christmas tree, bedecked with old-fashioned bubble lights.

*Edited to add: Apparently, what hit me was a rare form of "productive PMS", wherein one flies through chores like they aren't even there, instead of laying on the couch and moaning.

I sweated my ass off the whole day, working 7.5 hours without a break, pounding out the work, and signing off FOUR projects. Then I drove back to town, went to the bank, the butcher, the pet store, the grocery store, and the gas station. Then I came home and put away two weeks worth of groceries, made dinner, washed up the dishes, and took the trash and the dog out.

And then I crashed on the sofa. About eight, I just went out. I awoke at ten to kiss Spouse goodbye as he left for work, and then I went straight back to the couch, �just for a minute�.

Well, two and a half hours later, I got up, took my poor, patient dog out, and then made the big move to the bed. Where I remained until six this morning.

Now, I know that almost 10 hours of sleep isn�t a lot for some folks, but for me, that is pretty much unheard of. I would like to think, though, that I came by it honestly, by my furious activity of the previous 24 hours.

One of the reasons I practically killed myself at work yesterday was so that I would have the rest of the weekend off.

Because I�m damned if I�m going to miss my movie again.