It’s sad, but it’s true: I have a head that’s shaped like a bowling ball.
Or a pumpkin.
Bowlingball Medusa.
Bowling Ball Silkworm.
Bowling Ball in a Fancy-tied scarf.
Bowling Ball in a Stetson.
Don’t pity me.
I might konk you with my Bowling Ball head.
I am now going to go make these cookies. You should, too. You’ll even have until Tuesday morning to get the sea salt. If Farmergirl, while eating one of these cookies says, “Hey–you should be careful–someone dumped some salt on these cookies,” — konk her with your Bowling Ball head.