I have had a few quiet days in Cville since returning from Nashville, bumming around my house, decorating for Xmas, sleeping, and seeing friends. Scheduling time with friends is no small feat these days. Between job interviews, last week’s laundry waiting to be folded, the twice rescheduled therapy appointment, and our daily devotions to Pinterest/Tumblr/Facebook, getting together is harder than going through airport security – although that can be an illuminating challenge, as I recently re-discovered.
But sometimes, things just fall into place and gatherings happen, because quite frankly the Universe/Life/Facebook/iPhone calendar know it’s just what we need. A few weeks ago I stumbled upon these Doctor Who cookie cutters via Pinterest. My friend J is a huge Doctor Who. So I posted the link on his Facebook page, saying I’d make him the cookies if he made me the cookie cutters. Last Saturday, I found him in the shop at our local theater, a sheet of aluminum in one hand and pliers in the other others, and with an gleeful expression on his face. He insisted I get good icing for decorating purposes. Last night we got together and baked cookies. 5 dozens of them, to be exact, because that what the recipe called for. I should have realized the mountain of cookie dough we’d end up with when I used 3 sticks of butter. I should have further realized that decorating 2 dozens Tardises, Daleks and K-9s was in neither of our skill sets.
I am no baker of cookies. First, because cookie baking is an All-American activity, encoded in DNA next to – I am not American. Second, because like Hilary Clinton, I chose not stay home and bake cookies for a living. But baking is creating, and creating is indulging in possibilities, so this geeky get together was perfect. I mean, a girl and a guy on either side of 30 getting together to bake Doctor Who cookies is totally normal, right?
Enters dear C, culinary maven up in NY. Enter via Facetime that is. She texted me to ask about our baking adventures, I told J to Facetime her, and here we were in my shoe closet of a kitchen, J and I dusted in flour and cutting away cookies, C 300+ miles away in her kitchen. In addition to the culinary consult – I over-kneaded the dough and activated the gluten because I used my KitchenAid, oops – we got together. We asked news of each other, we laughed, a lot of fun was made at my cookie-decorating skills. C: “But why are the buttons off kilter?” The buttons are off kilter because the Dalek was on the edge of the plate and I didn’t think I need to set it flat to decorate it right. Mind you, C had no idea what a Dalek was until last night.
J set my iPhone in a Tupperware on the table so that C could see us both working away on cookie decoration. I think we called it quits after 6 Tardis-es, 2 Daleks and 1 K-9, partly because we were bored, partly because C was hanging up. She was such a part of the evening, it just didn’t make sense continuing without her. Afterward, J reflected on the awesomeness of Facetime. It is magical. There’s something about seeing a face, rather than just a hearing voice, that renders the connection more “real”. Even though C was on a tiny screen propped up in a Tupperware on my dining room table, she was there. We spent the evening together. And when the three of us reminisce in a few years, we’ll say “do you remember the night we made cookies together?”
Thank you Universe for Doctor Who-inspired gatherings, iPhones, butter, and friends who love.