Hilda's Cookies

My daughter brought over a tin of cookies at Christmas. Since she is an amazing baker (and cook) they were amazing--some of them very fancy. But the ones we loved most were these plain little rounds, slightly plump, crispy on the outside and softer inside. After we finished those off, I asked for the recipe. She said the recipe originally was given to her by her neighbor, Hilda. So, here it is, if you are fond of simple cookies:

Hilda's Cookies
2 sticks of butter
1/3 cup of oil
1 2/3 cups of sugar
2 eggs
Lots of vanilla--2 T. [I only had 1 teaspoon on hand but they were fine]
1 teaspoon soda
4 cups of flour~~OR~~2 cups of flour, 1 cup of Bob's Red Mill unsweetened coconut and
1 cup of Bob's Red Mill corn flour. [I used the coconut and corn flour]
Nutmeg [I just put about a teaspoon in the palm of my hand and it looked about
right--to taste]

All ingredients at room temperature. Cream butter and oil, stir in sugar, beat
in the eggs, one at a time, stir in the vanilla. Blend the soda (mash any
lumps!) with the first cup of flour and stir that into the wet ingredients.
Continue to add the dry ingredients and use a spatula to be sure everything
is completely blended.

Roll the dough into one inch balls and flatten slightly. Bake 350 degrees on
ungreased cookie sheet, about 12 min. Watch closely. They should only be
very light brown.

I made this discovery--if you chill the dough and then roll it into balls and bake it
the tops crack, which gives the cookies a different look, not unlike old-
fashioned molasses cookies.

You could also make the plain flour version and add shredded lemon peel and poppy
seeds. Maybe glaze them with lemon juice and powdered sugar glaze?

the Gregor Series by Suzanne Collins

Do these sound like the ingredients for a page turner for a 67 yo: giant cockroaches, 6 feet long, giant bats, able to carry people on their backs, and giant rats 6 to 10 feet tall, that slash and gash the humans? Ew! Toss in humans with purple eyes and skin so pale you can see their veins, add a baby still in diapers named Boots--and for a protagonist, why not an 11 yo boy named Gregor? Oh, yeah, and these creatures all live deep below New York City, where the sun doesn't shine.

Those are the characters in the Gregor series, Gregor the Overlander, Gregor and the Prophecy of Bane, and Gregor and the Curse of the Warmbloods. Those three little books (about 5" X 8", 300 pages) not only kept me reading for hours after I had planned to go to sleep, but made me weep at times, because of the nature of the dilemmas Gregor found himself in--which even for an adult would require deep introspection and examination of one's values to sort out.

Gregor had been a sad child for a long time--ever since his father disappeared a few years ago. His father taught science and now the family--Gregor, his sister Lizzie, and the baby, Boots (his father disappered before she was even born), have to subsist on what his mother can earn as a waitress. In the first book, Gregor the Overlander, Gregor is dismayed to find that pale-skinned humans with the purple eyes think he is The One--some sort of flash warrior who will go on a quest and save their land from the Gnawers--the huge rats that always threaten the humans with extermination. But since the quest may lead him to his father, if he is still alive, Gregor reluctantly agrees to go. If it seems that the odds are completely against a skinny light brown kid from a tenement in New York battling 10 foot rats, the discovery, during a casual sort of tournament, that he is what is known down there as a Rager, evens the odds. Ragers are creatures with a special gift--the ability to kill efficiently and effortlessly--sort of like a robot. The gift, far from reassuring Gregor, disturbs him. It is not entirely under his control, and creates a dichotomy of values within him that he must struggle with throughout the series.

My 10 yo. granddaughter requested the 4th book (Gregor and the Marks of Secret)of the series for Christmas. (On delivery I discovered she had actually already read that book, but wanted to own it, so it would be there, on the shelf next to the 3 others, whenever she wanted to take it to bed for another read.) I don't like to give a gift that I have not personally vetted, so (ahem!) I borrowed her 3 books and started to read them. Got waylaid, but not until after I was thoroughly convinced that of course she must have the 4th. Which I look forward to, myself, when I can borrow it. And, oh, there is another volume coming out in May. By then I will need a fix!

Blow

The vehicle for 70's fashions and for Johnny Depp to look, well, Johnny Deppish, in this pose and that with is that his real hair which changes color from frame to frame but always with that insouciant lank lock to the left.

It's not too late!

For New Year's Resolutions. But, Gad, how hard it is to commit! (I am the Queen of Wimps, when it comes to committing to any project.)

As noted elsewhere, last year I made only two resolutions: to laugh more and to read more poetry. I was actually able to carry out that regimen. I am going to go way out on a limb this year: I resolve to read at least one non-fiction book a month and to blog at least once a week. Hmmm. 12 non-fiction books and 52 posts. I guess I won't think of those numbers. Just do it.

My friend Jen, who is wonderfully supportive always, gave me a tip about the non-fiction: read for half an hour during the day. All my non-fiction reading is done at bedtime, a necessary ritual for me. But I am usually too tired to tackle non-fiction, which seems to demand more--consciousness? If I actually sit up to read a non-fiction book, surely I will absorb more.

About blogging: I know people who manage to post incredible blog entries several times a week. (Image: grey-haired old lady, on hands and knees, forehead to the floor, venerating their accomplishment.)

But I am not setting myself up for failure. Once a week will be an improvement. If I do more, then Tra La La!

Flashbacks

I wonder if anyone else has the extreme aversion to flashbacks that I do. I recently rejected a Reginald Hill novel because he kept skipping back and forth--much as I love his style, I decided to just skip it.

I once skipped 70 pages of flashback, and completed the novel without harm.

So tonight when I put a hold on the new Elizabeth George, What Came Before He Shot Her, I wondered if I would stick it, once the book was in my hands. Sounds like one long flashback to me. Of course, I have lots of time to chew on that conundrum--I am something like 190th on the list--unless I opt for the large print copy--and I hate those--then I think I would only be 11th.

I always complain about George's novels, but that has not stopped me from reading them all. Sigh.