One question that has gone to the back burner of my mind but is still simmering is: \u00a0Who left the cookies?<\/p>\n
On July 4 a paper plate of chocolate chip cookies wrapped in plastic was left between my front doors. \u00a0No one in the household could tell me who left them. \u00a0No one had seen a car back out of the drive or a neighbor scamper away.<\/p>\n
I wrote my number one suspect an email but she was downed by sciatica, unable to bake or scamper. The cookies sat on the table. \u00a0I ate at least one before going to a 4th of July parade. And another after dinner. \u00a0They were delish.<\/p>\n
And sooner than later all the cookies disappeared but I never found out who left them. \u00a0Was it you?<\/p>\n
Corny though it is, I am turning to William Carlos William (“This is Just To Say”<\/a>) to express my gratitude.<\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n This is just to say<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/strong><\/p>\n I have eaten<\/p>\n the cookies<\/p>\n that were between<\/p>\n the doors<\/p>\n <\/p>\n for which<\/p>\n you were probably<\/p>\n wanting<\/p>\n to be thanked.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Forgive me<\/p>\n they were delicious<\/p>\n so chocolate-y<\/p>\n and so moist.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n
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