Today I made shortbread cookies. Lovely, buttery, crumbling things, brown around the edges, with plenty of pecans. And, as I stood with my hands in soapy water cleaning butter from the mixing bowl, I reflected with satisfaction that I had produced five pages of cookies. Not cookie sheets, not dozens, but pages. Well, if I needed confirmation, it is now confirmed: words are my medium. And I laugh.
(Incidentally, a page — er, cookie sheet — contains something nearer two dozen cookies … my above statements did not, perhaps, make that clear.)