The True Meaning of Cookie Day

Yesterday was Cookie Day, and we made eight kinds of cookie and candy. Last year we made twelve, but--well, I was going to say that the point of Cookie Day is not excess, but then you all would laugh at me. No, it's that the point of Cookie Day is not pointless excess or unhappy excess. We made a great many lovely things, and when we were tired and ready to be done, we stopped rather than treating last year as a benchmark to always be surpassed.

Anyway. I still need to make the lussekatter and the apple hazelnut bread, but the lussekatter are some thing I need to for Santa Lucia Day itself. They are their own ritual. I may decide to make another kind or two of cookies, or I may not. We did all the things besides the lussekatter that I absolutely have to have this year, and we had a good time, and that is the true meaning of Cookie Day.

Final list for yesterday: pepparkakor, strawberry shortbreads, peanut butter kisses, pretzel hugs, turtles, sea salt caramels, rum balls for matastas, peanut butter fudge for Mike. And I had already done the brun brods. I can think of other things I might choose to do, but I also might not.