Cookies

I grew up in California. My mother’s mother lived in Sandy Utah. She came down every few years to visit, or when a baby was born. Or we would go up to visit. Despite the distance and the infrequency of actual time spent together she, Grandma Denny was a master a sending things for our birthdays. 
Every year, a card and a box of home made cookies would come to us in the mail. They were number cookies. The year that we were turning. I realize now that I am an adult and that there were MANY grandchildren the cost, time and effort this really represented. 
With Grandma’s passing and then Grandpa too all the little things they left behind were there in Grandma’s house. While thinking about her a couple of weeks ago, and Mirah’s birthday, and morning the loss of days of yore, I thought about the cookie cutters the she must have had and used to make all of those cookies. I text my aunt Janet and timidly asked if they were still around. She said that they were, and that if I would like them, I could have them. 
The came to me in this cookie tin, which to me was just so Grandma. 
Then inside…there they were. All but the number one. 1 is missing. 🙁

That won’t matter for a while becasue the cookie cutter we really needed was 3!

It is fun that Mirah is finally getting big enough to “help”
She really liked to help anyway. 
It took a little extra time, but it was NBD since we got there in the end. 
SIDE NOTE:
While working on our cookies we  had some visitors.
Chelsea’s mission companion Ziandra “Zi” Callaway and her fiance Keenen we at our house using my sewing machine. They finished their project and were heading out. To say thank you her made Mirah a couple of balloon animals.  
A pink and purple butterfly. 
And a flower. 
They left. Some of the cookies were baked. 
Mirah was happy. 
With my mom’s encouragement I made a simple butter cream frosting. 
Mirah couldn’t pick just one color. 
She wanted pink and purple. 
We sat down and got ready to frost! 
Mirah wasn’t terrible at it. 

It was only after spinkles came out that it really started to go off the rails. 
A few dozen cookies later…
Keeping up traditions. Thinking about lost loved ones. 

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