Last night at our gathering of grad students, one friend arrived with a bowl of homemade cookie dough. He turned on the oven, we got out our baking stone, and we we began to bake the warm oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
All throughout the evening, I’d waltz around with warm, gooey cookies on a platter for guests. Then I’d return for the next batch to emerge from the oven.
I realize the joy of warm, baking things. I realize that walking around with warm cookies on a platter is a recipe for joy.
They were delicious.