Snowflakes the size of lottery balls are falling midmorning on a day that is not a workday, and there's just no stopping them. It is cold and blustery outside. I know this because I've just come back from crunching snow in my snow boots to get to Met Food. My parents are straight up out of butter, eggs, and dark brown sugar, and you can't bake shit without them. Our ground floor is dark and grainy like video playback, soft tissues of grey light spreading through white shutter windows, almost - almost! - reaching the kitchen counter, but just shy. The oven is creeping to three-fifty while the Sackett Street shovels of the outdoors scrape at the inevitable concrete slush. Peter Sagal of Wait, Wait... Don't Tell Me! is asking the questions and my mom, her back to the snow light, knitting at the counter without so much as a glance up, is answering them. I am wearing the world's greatest slippers and running butter along two baking sheets. My plan is cinnamon iced oatmeal cookies. Clearly, if you weren't busy baking on a day like this one, I sure hope someone was busy baking for you.

Imperfectly perfect.

Grind 2 1/2 cups of oats so that it resembles powder, but with a couple of big pieces left in there.

Fairy oat dust.

Combine two eggs and two melted sticks of butter together.

Some casual "Mom in the Kitchen" advice was to gradually pour the melted butter out instead of waiting for all of it to melt. You don't want to burn your butter.

A dry ingredients party!

1/2 c whole wheat flour, c all-purpose, tbsp + tsp of baking powder, tsp baking soda, 2 tsp salt, c dark brown sugar, 1/2 c white sugar, tsp cinnamon, tsp nutmeg.

Sift all them dry ingredients together (+ oats of course!)

Fold your hot butter and eggs in.

Sir Mix-A-Lot until it looks like this.

2 tbsp worth of scoopage onto the baking sheets, but I'd scale back if you want more of a cookie and less of a cake. Mine were perfectly fine, but definitely big.

Bake for about 18 minutes, give or take.

Lay, lady, lay... your trays of oatmeal cookies down onto the counter.

Only thing missing is a cinnamon drizzle.

In a cinch...

2 1/4 c powdered sugar, 7 tbsp milk, tbsp cinnamon, 1/4 tsp salt.

Stir it up until it drizzles like honey off your spoon.

Let it sit for 30 min before drizzling the cookies.

Later in the day, when we left the snugness of Brooklyn to cross the frosty Hudson, Michael and I carried these cookies (and a bottle of vino) in a gold tin box through the powdery streets of Hoboken to share them with our friends, Sean and Candace.