Idiomatic license

Before I get into it for today Dear Reader, I must confess to grammatical transgressions. My last post, "Temporizing taste temptations, temporarily" should make English teachers, and those who love the language, cringe. The title at least. Temporize is an intransitive verb, and thus should not have an object, direct or otherwise. It also includes, in its meaning, the notion of temporariness, so the "temporarily" is redundant. Furthermore, I'm pretty sure "temporariness" isn't a word. There. I feel better now. When we last met, where were we? That's right, Frosted Oatmeal Cookies, Snicker Doodles, and arbitrary shifts in the space-time continuum. Between then and now I tried and failed to make an Oatmeal Rice Krispie cookie recipe. Then tried again, and succeeded. The recipe is from a co-worker, who gave it to me after I fell in love with the cookie. While that dough was in the refrigerator, I made the dough for what my mom always called Jelly Balls. Last year someone told me that they looked nothing like Jelly Balls and more like Thumbprints. I relented and began to call them Thumbprints. But this year, I found that when making the hole for the raspberry jelly, my index finger worked a lot better. A more symmetrical hole was achieved. Important. Now, I call them Fingerprints. Officially. For the record. Raspberry Fingerprints, specifically. A manifestation of an idea. After baking both of these recipes, I found I was at 1013 cookies. I decided that a thousand cookies was enough. What? Yes, I said enough. I quit. Sort of. The next day I got to work on English Toffee. Making my mom's recipe for English Toffee is nothing short of spiritual. The scrape of the metal spatula on the bottom of the pan. In one direction only. The careful monitoring of the candy thermometer. 290 degrees, precisely. The melting of the chocolate, and the cooling for optimum application. The finely ground almonds. It all comes together quite nicely. Maybe not to die for, but perhaps, to kill for. If you've tried it, you'll forgive me for ending that last sentence in a preposition, without an object.