Important things first.





It's September.





I can officially bake with pumpkin pie spice and candy corn now. No? Yes.

But what? How did this happen. I promise you, it was just June. And if we're going there, it was maybe even still technically spring. I was daydreaming of red, white, and blue things to bake and lazy afternoons laying on the beach and grilling pizzas, picnics and hiking and summer fairs, concerts and funnel cakes, ice cold drinks in frosty Mason jars, new flip-flops, fireworks, barbeques, peanut butter s'mores, and camping.





Oh P.S. And an entire season of TrueBlood.





Now there's only one episode of TrueBlood left (one! ONE.), my s'more count is at zero, and it's September.

Dislike.





did do this summer, in droves, and the one thing that always makes me feel a bit more like myself, even when it's September and I haven't been camping or felt the sand between my toes or had a s'more in my face or landed a career or come anywhere close to having that perfect body that fits into a bikini, (let alone a one-piece. P.S. Just that word "bikini" makes me want to punch something.)... is baking. Because it's my thing.



And it probably explains the whole swimsuit situation.



But I think I do it pretty well. And for five minutes, or, you know... forty-five minutes to an hour, it makes me feel confident and purposeful and in control of my life and, honestly, a little bit sassy.

I'm bolding that. Cuz that's what you do with important things. And because real life? Five minutes after I post this I'll probably sink back down into this quicksand of a funk I've been stuck in the whole summer, where I don't feel confident or purposeful or in control or sassy.



But instead... I'll tell you about these cookies. And then maybe I'll check out of life for 72 hours and finish reading The Help . But the one thing Ido this summer, in droves, and the one thing that always makes me feel a bit more like myself, even when it's September and I haven't been camping or felt the sand between my toes or had a s'more in my face or landed a career or come anywhere close to having that perfect body that fits into a bikini, (let alone a one-piece. P.S. Just that"bikini" makes me want to punch something.)... is baking. Because it's my thing.And it probably explains the whole swimsuit situation.But I think I do it pretty well.I'm bolding that. Cuz that's what you do with important things. And because real life? Five minutes after I post this I'll probably sink back down into this quicksand of a funk I've been stuck in the whole summer, where I don't feel confident or purposeful or in control or sassy.But instead... I'll tell you about these cookies. And then maybe I'll check out of life for 72 hours and finish reading

Sugary-rich peanut butter chocolate chip cookies + double chocolate chip cookies with chunks of chewy, bubbly, caramel-y, nougat-y Snickers bars and bits of almonds. That's what's happening here.

demanded wanted them. Not feeling all that inspired that day, I asked him what kind he wanted and got this real specific answer: Sugary-rich peanut butter chocolate chip cookies + double chocolate chip cookies with chunks of chewy, bubbly, caramel-y, nougat-y Snickers bars and bits of almonds. That's what's happening here.These marbled cookies started out the way most of my cookies do: my boyfriendwanted them. Not feeling all that inspired that day, I asked him what kind he wanted and got this real specific answer:





"I don't know. Cookies, you know? Something chocolate-y. Or something peanut butter-y. Oooh, maybe something chocolate-y almond-y?"

So I made two batches of cookies and swirled them together! And threw in some in Almond Snickers, since they're his favorite (and hopefully counted as something "chocolate-y almond-y").





My favorite part is the gooey pockets of caramel that bubbled up out of these cookies.

I think they would taste even better with chopped up bits of peanut butter Snickers bars... or even Reese's peanut butter cups. Peanut butter = <3.





P.S. If I had my way, the surface of the moon would look like this.

But then I'd become an astronaut and, you know... eat the moon.



No biggie.



