THE OFFICIAL BAKE ANNOUNCEMENT OF
The Alaskan Ginger Bread Being…
|He smells so good...|
Length: 10.5 inches
Weight: a few ounces
Name: Gingey Gerhardt
Heralded by the first few snowflakes of the season, “Gingey” arrived fresh out of Grandma Lynn’s oven.
|He jumped right onto the oven door when we weren't looking...|
Having spent weeks being formed in the imagination of our minds and hearts, he sprang into existence on our kitchen table.
|Snipping some pretty red ribbon...|
Now it happened in this way….I raised my camera to capture the process of creation and my screen was dark and formless.
The lens cap was still firmly snapped in place.
“Let there be light,” I shouted playfully. And this is what I saw:
|Yes, that's a square gingerbread in the background formed by none other than fireball himself|
Other gingerbread’s were being made as well. However we already had a plan and design for this particular gingerbread that lay in front of us. It wasn’t because it was any better than the others or wasn’t equal. I simply had a specific purpose in mind for it to fill.
I traced around a large cookie cutter placed on the bottom of a cardboard box. I picked up a pair of scissors and trimmed the edges. My daughter became anxious about how much I was doing and wondered if I would remember my promise of allowing her to help.
I assured her, “Don’t worry, you can help. I need to do this part because the cardboard is difficult to turn and cut. You may pick the buttons for his eyes,” I said.
They were chosen. My daughter began snipping bits of red ribbon for his mouth.
“It seems rather stiff; maybe we should use yarn instead?” I questioned.
It was clear however, that she wanted to use her own bits of ribbon and I helped her glue them to his face. I tried to talk her into a nose, but she was sure that the gingerbread did not have a need for one. She was right; it looked funny, so we skipped the nose.
I turned my back for a second and suddenly heard the snap of a permanent marker lid. Every mother knows that warning sound… and the familiar smell of danger.
I said, “Waaaiiiit!” With marker hovering, she said, “BUT he’s MY gingerbread and you said I could help decorate.”
“Yes, I did say that you could help decorate, but no, he doesn’t belong to you. This gingerbread creation is something Mama thought up and I’m giving you the honor of helping me.”
Together we decided where to draw the buttons and how many. She happily drew them in place.
The gingerbread looked simple, well rounded and tasty. Everything a good Alaskan gingerbread man should be…
Yet as soon as he was taken from the oven he wanted to do things his own way. He leaped off the pan. He ran and hid all around Grandma Lynn’s house.
|He felt at home here...another oven above the stone fireplace|
|Grandma Lynn gently lifting him down from his precarious perch...|
|It wasn't long before we found him trying the handle of the old-fashioned fridge...|
|He leapt up to the window before we could catch him...|
|Running across a bench at the table...|
|He made a flying leap to what he thought was a safe place... getting back to his roots|
Soon he escaped out the front door where he hitched a ride back home with us. We had to stop for a load of water on the way home like many Alaskans do… here he is helping.
|I'll help hold the hose...|
|Just like stopping for gas, except a whole lot cheaper|
I’m sure this tasty gingerbread won’t last long. We must catch him first. We’ve already heard his little chant, “Run, Run as fast as you can, you can’t catch me, I’m headed down the Alcan!”
We’ll be following his adventures and posting his guest story on our blog for the next few weeks. Stay tuned for more, “Adventures with Gingey….”