Have I mentioned that I love a good yard sale?  That flea markets are second only to food and farmer’s markets for me? History, humor, treasures all in one place.  This spring my son Daniel and I went to a flea market fundraiser at his school.  He sorted through albums (“I mean, what would you do with this, anyway?) and I considered a juicer in its original box (didn’t buy it), a disturbing collection of clown and acrobat figurines, and a vintage mirror in need of rescuing (now repainted, hanging in my entryway). I adore the idea that what once cluttered someone’s life, what was unused and discarded is now useful again and on a wall or on a dresser or in a child’s hands.

And we bought some books.  Daniel likes to cook on his own and I bought him a baking book just for him – he was thrilled until he found a note inside.  “Uh oh, this book used to be someone’s,” he said.  “I know,” I told him, “That’s what yard sales are, a place where people sell their old things or items they don’t use anymore.”

But his book came with a note.  “I do not know how to say thank you for all of the support you’ve given me…” and so on.  A nice note.  A kind letter.  But what sets it apart?  At the top is a recipe for “Katherine’s Cookies” and, at the bottom of the recipe “PS DON’T SHARE”.

People get private with recipes sometimes, don’t they?  Secretive, as though the magic will dissipate.  Well, I’m sorry, Katherine, whoever you are, but I am sharing because to me, recipes are stories and stories are to be shared.  Like love or sorrow, cookies are best when enjoyed not alone but with friends or family.