Gingerbread For A Village

Birdie asked me to bake gingerbread houses for her friends. I forgot Birdie has lots of friends. I'm baking House No. 3. By midweek, I hope to have a village ready to decorate. That's the problem with pretending to listen. Sometimes, I agree to things I have barely heard. Gingerbread houses are fine. I like Birdie's friends almost as much as I like Birdie, and that's quite a lot. I first made a gingerbread house when Birdie and Daisy were little ones. Each decorated half of a house, while eating as much candy as possible. They enjoyed decorating, they enjoyed the candy, but what they liked best happened in mid-January. We took the gingerbread house out to the backyard, placed it on the ground and the girls demolished it with hammers. The process lasted about five minutes, and we all felt very relaxed and satisfied with the results--candy and chunks of stale gingerbread flung everywhere. That's how our gingerbread house tradition began. Birdie has told me about this year's decorating party--it's Saturday. I feel certain she is planning the January demolition party. A lor of candy corn and peppermint will fly across the yard--lucky raccoons--and a bunch of teenage girls will suddenly feel more mellow-lucky parents.