I have these four friends. I know I have mentioned them before, but just to refresh your memory, these are the we-all-used-to-live-in-the-same-town-and-work-in-the same-school-and-they-all-moved-away-from-me friends. Two of them live within a reasonable driving distance, the other is 9 hours away.
In an effort to see each other now and then, and to get some Christmas baking done, we have established a December baking day. Two of them came,
this one did not think the 9 hour drive was worth it. We were thoroughly offended.
This is the before shot. A few things had been unloaded, but the day had not yet gotten underway.
Here we are at some point during the morning. Nothing says HOT like domestic (sometimes I pretend) women in sweats and an apron.
This friend is the candy maker. She is in charge of peanut brittle and toffee. None of the rest of us attempt that madness. And while we are all relatively capable of dipping pretzels, hers are picture perfect while ours are.....well.....not.
This is the job that the not-so-skilled Christmas goody bakers get assigned. I'm wondering why I am still wearing that apron. I guess to protect my very important t-shirt and sweats.
And just when you thought we couldn't add anymore craziness to the day, our kids were there too. Well, not the 20 year old son, he decided this wasn't his idea of a good time.
The kids "helped" for awhile and then resorted to hot wheels under the cookie table. We were thinking hot wheels would have been a good idea from the very beginning.
And finally, the after picture. Eight hours later we had peanut brittle, toffee, pretzels, gingerbread men, sugar cookies, peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and gingersnaps. It ended up being a crazy, out-of-control amount of food.
At least now I'll know who to blame when my jeans don't fit.