Its funny how when I think about it how many things my family does or has that have been passed down from generation to generation. One such treasured object is a cutting board.
With the names Arnold and Ruth and the year 1937 carved onto the bottom of the board. They are hardly legible after all of these years but every time I take out the board I am filled with a quiet happiness knowing that my great grandfather carved it for my great grandmother as a wedding present. That for years she prepared meals with love using it and then after she died it was passed on to my mother who also puts a great deal of love into everything she does. Before his hands became to shaky to hold a carving knife my Great-grandpa also cut and carved a board for my parents. It is my hope that someday I too will have a cutting board with my name and my husband's.
Tonight I made "Poor Man's Cookies" a recipe from my great-grandmother's hand written records. The first time I made them they came out great. Tonight I made them again. They did not turn out as perfect. First off, I added a bit more water to the recipe (because the dough was a bit too dry last time) and instead of greasing the cookie sheets I sprayed them with cooking oil (err the really bad part- it was olive oil) and instead of slightly puffy lovely cookies they are completely flat slightly olively cookies. While I perhaps, do not believe they came out wonderfully, the lovely thing about having younger siblings is that they seem to love almost anything I cook- especially if it has sugar in it! So as I munch on a very flat cookie, contemplating how I could improve it the next go around, two very happy little boys stuff cookies into their mouths and call out slightly muffled thanks. I think that is the very best part of family or at least my family. Even during times in my life when I feel down or like I am missing something, a smile or a hug or even the muffled thanks from a cookie filled mouth cheers me right up and lets me know that I am loved.

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