That is what makes food kind of magical. To me it’s not just about fuel (or in this case, sugar), it’s a tradition, or a way to feel close to someone, or a ritual, or a meditation, or a time to grieve the past, or remember it fondly, or a time to be silent and work something with your hands, or a time to laugh and listen to my rubbish music and get flour everywhere. When our parents divorced it felt like all that was familiar had gone, but in that loss we managed to carve a space out that was ours.
So here is my recipe for sibling bonding through the medium of gingerbread cookies.
Autostraddle header for Heather’s Fan Fiction Friday




