
Despite what it looks like, this is NOT a bowl full of dog poop. It is actually gingerbread dough in the process of being mixed. I had already folded in the one large egg, and already stirred it almost to readiness for the kneading process.

You see, my daughter and I have been staying at home in Texas while my wife and son are off on a trip I couldn’t manage for health reasons. So, since the Princess and I have some bonding time, we decided to have a gingerbread cookie contest that we ended up putting off too long last December.

We decided to make just two cookies. I suggested unicorns, she wanted to do a dragon. So we each took half of the dough and started sculpting. We didn’t make the cookies mobile once cooked. The plan was to make them, decorate them, photograph them, and eat them.
The Dragon is the Princess’s entry and the unicorn mine in the fantasy critter cookie contest. In the previous pictures they are in raw dough form. In the next set of pictures they are cooked cookies.
The en-fattened cooked cookies didn’t look quite as fine as our original sculpted conceptions. We were hoping to improve their artistic merits by decorating them. I had frosting left over from the gingerbread house we did in December.

The chocolate frosting, though, had congealed in a strange, barely spreadable manner. To deal with this, had to warm it and melt it slightly to get it to spread. The Princess chose to forego using chocolate frosting. Like an idiot, I forged ahead with the tasty goo.
Unfortunately, the warm chocolate had a tendency to melt all the other decorative frosting.

So, I tried my best to be artsy creative and rescue the look of my unicorn cookie. I failed. I turned it into a fire-tailed ugly dog with a bleeding white stick stuck in its forehead.

The Princess was, however, much more successful.

And fortunately, both cookies were delicious when it came time to clean up our respective messes.


















And back-seat drivers all have visions of the bloody, fiery car crash you are going to put them through in return for their $5.00 riding fee.


Lyrical Lessons from Life
I am still in lazy mode, not quite making the effort for 500 words… But, in my defense, a picture is supposed to be worth a thousand words. So, the picture above should count as 1,042 words because of the words in it.
Poetry is like that. Even bad poetry. This doggerel verse is capable of meaning far more things than it specifically, literally states. But I shouldn’t point that out. You should never explain a poem… or defend a poem… a poem should simply be. Even a bad poem.
And there are those who will say it is not a bad poem. It speaks to simple farmer wisdom, the kind I learned while yet a boy in Iowa 50 years ago. Did you realize that I made this meme on a photo of my own unweeded flower garden, grown in the unforgiving Texas heat?
That’s all there is to today’s post. A picture/poem… a tiny bit of wisdom… on the first hot Sunday in June.
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