When I was first married, I had zero culinary skills. {Bless my dear groom.} The one redemptive recipe for those first bumbling months of dry lasagne and hard-as-golf-balls cinnamon rolls was a cookie recipe I discovered in a wedding-gift cookbook. After all, who cared if I couldn’t fry an egg or boil potatoes as long as I could bake one of the world’s most delicious autumn treats: Pumpkin Chip Cookies.

The tradition of these melt-in-your mouth cookies has passed down to the next generation of my family and, no doubt, will move on to the next.  (You can check out these fun blog posts: my daughter Kaley’s here and my daughter Tamara’s here.)

For most people, whipping up a batch of cookies is a non-issue; however, I have a touch of ADD and, believe it or not, it creates a baking challenge for me. {I have such a short attention span that when I make the bed, I make half of it and then come back later to make the other half.}

 For me, baking tends to be more of a task than a pleasure: there are so many steps, so many ingredients, and so much clean-up. Too often it just doesn’t seem worth it. But the other day I thought: This is ridiculous. I want to bless my friends with these cookies; they are too good not to share.

So I decided to put on my flirty orange apron (it is, after all, autumn), and savor each step of the process.

Since my attention span is about 1.2 minutes (Okay–that might be a bit exaggerated), I decided to divide the process into segments and then allow myself to get sidetracked between.

Allow myself to get sidetracked?! I was liking this already.

But there was the difference in the sidetracking I was allowing myself: I had to get sidetracked in the kitchen. No running downstairs to put in a load of laundry; no running upstairs to make the other side of the bed.

#1   The first segment was to gather all the ingredients and place them on the counter. I was committed now–no turning back.

Now, freedom to sidetrack–in the kitchen.

 #2 After flitting around the kitchen for a few minutes, the second segment was to gather all the tools I would need: a mixing bowl, a wooden spoon, measuring cups, etc..

Again, freedom to sidetrack. [Hey–how long has that cobweb been hanging from the ceiling by the back door?]

#3 OK–now it was time for the fun to begin. The third segment was to simply follow the recipe. Oh, the sweet anticipation of mixing up a batch of  plump pumpkin chip cookies; each step overflows with mouth-watering anticipation.

[I had already determined that after I used each ingredient I would put it back into the cupboard; that would lessen the mess after I was done baking. I had also filled the sink with hot soapy water so that, in my flitting, I could wash utensils as I went along.]

#4 After I put the cookie sheets in the oven, I had ten lovely minutes to get more dishes washed, dried and put away. [I have a dishwasher, but I actually enjoy hand washing my dishes.]

So there you have it: pumpkin chip cookies baked by a cook with a touch of ADD. Yes, the process took longer, but it was pleasurable and productive, and the results were ever so delicious.

Wish I could share some with you.