My sister sent me these pictures tonight… they’re from our little cookie decorating party last weekend. As you can see, we did some FINE WORK. There were some drinks consumed as well. Which only improved the quality of the work, in my opinion.
Ol’ Surly worked through her beer buzz to create decorated cookies worthy of the Gods themselves. (Well, maybe not Apollo. He’s got such high standards. Wish he was more like Dionysis; he’ll eat anything.) Here’s proof:
By the way, the cookies were quite delicious. I still have a few… but their numbers dwindle every day. The only hard part? Deciding which ones to eat. Why is it that I am ‘saving’ the prettiest cookies for last? Why does it feel almost wrong to finally bite into these things?
I guess it doesn’t feel all that wrong, since I’m managing to force them down somehow!