sugar cookie and icing recipe

My parents used to drop me off on one side of town on Halloween night. Then they'd drive to friends' house on the other side of town to help pass out candy. And I'd show up at some point--cold, worn out and hoping they hadn't eaten all the Snickers. 

Now that I think about it, this methodology seems a bit unsafe. I mean, no cell phone. No presumed route. No time by which I had to show up. No group to stick with. 

Just a silly costume, a pumpkin-shaped bucket and a promise that when I did get to their friends' house, there would almost assuredly be cookies that LOOKED like they were chocolate chip . . . but were in fact raisin. 

And let's face it: That's WAY more dangerous than turning your child loose on the town to snatch up all the sugar she can find. 

Raisins. 

Pfff. 

In dessert. 

Pfffft. 

I much prefer these sugar cookies instead. No surprises here. Just repeat goodness every time. 

No schlepping across town. No itchy orange wigs. No promises of Milky Ways only to find out the candy had all run out. 

See? There's safety in these cookies. 

So if you're feeling particularly emboldened by your candy haul this Halloween, or if you just need to bring dessert to Thanksgiving, or you're on a lifelong hunger strike against raisins too, try out these cookies. And then be sure to let me know how they turn out. 

I'll even eat a Snickers in your honor. 

Sugar Cookie Recipe

3/4 cup butter

3/4 cup sugar

2 eggs

1 tsp. vanilla

2 3/4 c. flour

2 tsp. baking powder

salt

Heat oven to 400. Cream butter and sugar. Beat in eggs and vanilla. Add powder and salt, one cup at a time, until the dough is stiff. Divide into 2 and roll out one half of the dough at a time on a floured surface to 1/4 inch thick. Do not refrigerate the second half. Cut out cookies and place on an ungreased cookie sheet for 6-7 minutes. Cool slightly and remove. 

Icing

3 egg whites

4 c. powdered sugar

5-6 tablespoons water

Beat for 7-10 minutes until stiff peaks form. 

happy Reformation day!

My mom excelled at a lot of things. Coming up with Halloween costumes for her third child was not one of them. Maybe that’s why, the year I was officially too old to be trick-or-treating and with a cold that left my head plugged from my nostrils to the back of my skull, she clapped an orange wig on my head, dropped me off on one side of town, and told me to meet her at a friend’s house on the opposite side of the city.

Seriously.

An orange wig for a costume.

Mom.

C’mon.

Never mind that it was sleeting. Never mind that I ate half my candy before I got to her friend’s house. Never mind that the chilly weather actually cleared out all the gunk that was making me stuffy. Never mind that my own grandmother’s porch light was turned off.

My own grandmother.

Not that I’m still thinking about this 20 years later or anything.

It’s just that I’m awfully thankful to be old enough not to have to wear a pig snout for a costume while walking through feet of snow with my sisters begging for candy anymore. Instead, I’m grateful that today I get to stay home and eat all the fun-size Snickers I want . . . before my husband finds the wrapper stash.

I also get to be thankful for Reformation Day, which, despite its appalling lack of Sixlets, is a pretty sweet gig too.

And so I present to you, 5.75 reasons it’s good to be a Lutheran on Reformation Day.

Well, first I’m going to show you these cookies my sister made. Probably you should leave some comment love for her on how fabulous these are.

5) Sturdy hymns.

With all due respect to the musical abilities of Twila Paris, I really feel the Reformation produced some pretty meaty hymns, the kind that actually stick to your bones when you’re frustrated or worried or fed up or scared. It’s time we dug those back out, learned them by heart, sang them at home with our kids. Instead of having “I’m So Fancy” on repeat in your noggin, try out “Lord, Keep Us Steadfast in Your Word.”

4) A hardcore Reformer.

You can have Mel Gibson. You can have “Freeeedommmmmm!” speeches. Heck, you can even have the kilts and the war paint. We got Luther, who was brave enough to live and prepared to die by and for the Word of the Lord, who cared more about doing what was right than his name or his reputation and didn’t even have to use #haterzgonnahate to prove it.

3) Trick-or-treating.

We have freedom in the Gospel, which means we can go to our church’s Reformation service AND dress up as a Twister board to get toothbrushes and apples from our neighbors all in one night!

On second thought, maybe just buy your own candy on your way home from church.

2) Endurance.

What was true then is still true now. We’re not hip. We’re not trendy. We’re faithful to God’s Word; we’re consistent. So when Luther wrote, “And take they our life, Goods, fame, child and wife, Let these all be gone, They yet have nothing won; The Kingdom our remaineth,” it was not only the cause for goosebumps then as now, but it was also just as apropos when he wrote it as it is today. It was true for Luther. It is true for the Christians fleeing ISIS. It is true for you.

1) Jesus.

Luther might as well have been a big, flashing, neon Vegas sign that pointed straight to his Savior. Because when we think of the Reformation, we think of Jesus, of the one died and lives to give us every good gift (even though it will usually not come in the form of the orange wig of shame and a sugar high). So with the Psalmist, you get to say, “God is for me!” (Ps. 56:9).

As for that last quarter of a point, well, see # 1.

And oh yeah . . . hapopy Reflosrmatiron Dsayt!

{Sorry. Sticky Snickers chocolate fingers. It’s never too early to start.}

day 20 of farmacology: our chickens are cray cray

One of the things you may not know about farm folks is that

we have crazy chickens.  

We have five chickens: three Red Stars and two Black Stars. They haven't started laying yet, but we're banking on them producing any day now.

Ok, so we've been saying that for a month. 

But this time we mean it. 

And they apparently do too, because in the last week, they've discovered that their pen can't contain them anymore. 

First, one Black Star learned she could quite literally fly the coop. 

Then, just as quickly, she learned that puppies find wandering chickens a lot of fun to chase. 

Then she learned that if she darted under the electric fence into the pasture, the puppies would leave her alone. 

Now she pretty much fancies herself a heifer. 

And two of her friends aren't far behind. I looked outside yesterday to see three newly free-range, cage-free chickens and . . . 

one snoozing Great Pyrenees. Some livestock guardian SHE is.

This morning, the three chickens were back out again and darting in and out between puppies and heifers. The heifers chase the chickens out of the pasture. The dogs chase them back in. No wonder they don't have any time to lay eggs. 

Crazy chickens. 

day 19 of farmacology: national pumpkin day

One of the things you may not know about farm folks is that

we make do.

I've always dreamed of having a cute front porch display during the fall, complete with funky colored pumpkins and bundles of corn stalks and brightly colored ears of Indian corn. 

So basically like my mom's front porch.

But we have dogs. Four dogs. And if last year is any indication, a pumpkin would last about ten minutes before it became pumpkin puree spread across the lawn. 

Soooo . . . until our puppies quit teething, we make do with a close second: pumpkin granola and a house that smells like cinnamon. 

It's almost the same-ish. 

Granola lasts about a hot minute in a house with a farmer who likes to snack while he reads, so a double batch of granola is always a good idea. 

Better still, I actually had all of the ingredients on hand  . . . for once: oats, nuts, brown sugar, vanilla, even pumpkin and some caramel baking bits for good measure.

Add some pumpkin puree and some pumpkin pie spice, and our house was left smelling like a virtual pumpkin patch. 

Scratch that. 

Better still, like a pumpkin pie.

Our front porch may be a little -- ummmm -- minimalistic thanks to three puppies and a patient dog, but our house is smelling -- and tasting -- like fall. 

See?

We make do! 

Want to read more of my 31 day farmacology writing challenge? Click here. 

Cinnamon Pumpkin Granola from Creme de la Crumb

• 3 cups rolled oats
• 1 cup chopped nuts - such as Diamond of California (almonds, walnuts, and pecans all work well in this recipe too)
• ½ cup coconut flakes
• ½ teaspoon salt
• 1½ teaspoons cinnamon
• 1 teaspoon pumpkin pie spice
• ½ cup honey
• ¼ cup brown sugar
• ⅓ cup oil
• 2 teaspoons vanilla extract
• 3 tablespoons pumpkin puree

1. Preheat oven to 325 and lightly grease a large baking sheet. (Preferable one with a raised edge)
2. In a large bowl combine oats, nuts, coconut, salt, cinnamon, and pumpkin pie spice.In another bowl whisk together honey, brown sugar, oil, vanilla, and pumpkin.
3. Pour the wet mixture mixture over the oats mixture and stir to coat well. Spread the mixture onto the baking sheet in an even layer and bake 15 minutes, stir, and continue to bake in 10-15 minutes intervals, stirring well between each, until the granola is uniformly golden and no longer moist (for me this was a little over an hour but it will depend on your oven).
4. Allow to cool completely (the granola will crisp a little more as it cools.) Store completely cooled granola in airtight containers for 1-2 weeks.

day 18 of farmacology: we take breaks . . . sometimes

One of the things you may not know about farm folks is that

we do take breaks. Sometimes.  

We missed the prettiest leaves by about a week, but today we took a little hike at a local state park, and my farmer got to enjoy the weather from outside the cab of a tractor and without his work boots on. Success! 

  

Hiking while pregnant gave me a good foretaste of what growing older will be like. You have to watch where you place each foot like you're walking a mine field, you're basically just trying not to fall, and you lean heavily on your husband, who does his best to humor you with his a fake aged voice. 

  

You also take breaks to learn about acorns. (I told you we were old at heart.)

Here's a fun fact for the day: Did you know that acorns are poisonous to cows? [Click to tweet.]

Neither did I! What a coincidence! 

Not that you or I are busy spending our days cramming nuts down random cows' throats or anything, but it never hurts to know these things just in case. 

Or in the event you're someone phone-a-friend when a million dollar game show question is on the line. 

You can thank us later. 

Chris then pointed out that this plant looked like something I'd attempt to craft with, and as with most things, he's right. 

I left it there . . . but only because I'd probably get it home and then we'd all break out in hives or something equally awesome. 

Because I'm good like that. 

  

We also talked about coming back to that same park in a year and doing some hiking with a little buckaroo or buckarette . . . and how I'd carry the water and he could tote the baby. That's a dad rite of passage, right? Err . . . rite? Errr . . . 

Farmers, to quote Mike Row, are #notafraidtowork. But they're also not afraid to be a little spontaneous, take a little break, go on a little walk, and have a little chat with their wives. 

And that makes me more than just a little happy. 

Want to read more of my 31 day farmacology writing challenge? Click here.