A love affair with cookies

I have yet to meet a cookie I did not quite like in some way. Not because I have been favorably spared by the cookie gods from the average person’s quota of requisite misses; but there’s really been a single heartbreak between me and any cookie. See, I am drawn to them because of the pretty tin cans they come in. I find them irresistible, and once empty I use them to hold all sorts of things — craft materials, sewing essentials, accessories, extra buttons that come with new clothing, letters, all sorts of odds and ends. As such, there are many kinds of pretty in my drawers.

And so they have paraded into my life — a happy stream of varied shapes and forms and many different tastes, some more delicious than others, a handful quite unforgettable, each holding the promise of the many happy things that can happen when butter, flour and sugar unite. And always, whatever the shortcomings of each, whether it was too sweet or not sweet enough, too soft or too tough, too much or too little of this or that, always there was a redeeming factor, something to love about it anyway. Often, that redeeming factor was the pretty container. And if delicious cookie also happened to come packaged in a gorgeous container, then hey, what a happy day.

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