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Filing my teeth to a point
Yesterday we bought hamantashn from Mamaleh's as part of Hamantashen for Ukraine; the flavors were chocolate toffee and raspberry halvah. The ones I made this afternoon with my niece were apricot, sour cherry, poppy seed, and prune which was more improvised than usual because our usual source for lekvar was dead out of stock. She began by just wanting to drop the fillings on the dough once I had rolled and stamped it out and by the second batch was imperiously forbidding me to fold more than one or two cookies per round because she wanted to make them all herself. (Poppy seed is emerging as her favorite flavor. It makes me so happy.) Toward the end, she made a couple in the shape of trilobites, which we agreed were appropriately festive, and a little cat-face with pinched-out ears and chocolate studs of eyes and whiskers out of the handful of dough she had been using as a fidget. Some years we make a triple recipe; this year it was only a double, but there were still enough survivors of the quality control stage to be divided between the three households with a share for the twins, for whom she ran over a care package before leaving. I believe her plan for the coincidence of St. Patrick's Day and Purim is to wear something green and also cat ears to school tomorrow. I like her so much.
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Nine
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You can see the cat here, along with some rather exploded hamantashn. (Most of the well-shaped ones had been picked over for sending to people who didn't get to eat the first cookies hot out of the oven.)
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Nine
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I don't know that I love people I don't like. How do you differentiate the two?
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I am really grateful that, now that they are not a potato, the person they have established is one I can really put my back into liking. Because I am not sure how quickly the whole-hearted protective love would have gone away, if it would have at all, and then I would have been stuck loving someone I did not like. Which is not something that happens with adults where I get to know the person, where I have some sort of choice in the matter. But Dr Bestie's mother handed me that baby, and oh yes, I loved them, that is my one and only instance of love at first sight.
Hmm, oh, I guess there's another example: there are a few relatives for whom I have residual childhood fondness still built in and now I know that I do not like them as people at all, and the residual childhood fondness has taken awhile to evaporate. And that is very uncomfortable. I care very deeply about their fate, I want the best for them very much, and also I think they are loathsome on several philosophical levels and do not want them around. This sucks. I do not recommend it.
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(I love reading about your relationship with your parents, so very much.)
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I definitely think of it as the canonical. For years apricot was my favorite. Now I don't think I can choose.
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Poppy seed hamentaschen are exceedingly good. They have a specially nice smell the fruit ones don't.
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I don't know about St. Catty's Day! I read the strip on and off when it started, but then lost track. Link?
Poppy seed hamentaschen are exceedingly good. They have a specially nice smell the fruit ones don't.
They do! I hadn't thought of it that way.
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The blackcurrant sounds great!
(I like sour cherry a lot.)
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Thank you! It's really important.
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We also ran multiple times around the house (literally, outside), bounced a tennis ball back and forth on the front walk (then she wanted the kickball, but my father had to inform her it had perished), and played sort of badminton (rackets and shuttlecock, no net). It was good!
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They looked remarkably like it. One of them had a cherry for an eye.
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It even has tiny little paws.
One of these years I will carve out time to make hamentaschen with my household!
Strength to your arm!
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She really is!