Five years ago I decided to throw weekly "cooking" courses for the neighborhood kids, hoping to endear them to myself and hoping to get them to crowd someplace other than my house. Since they don't look like this anymore, I feel safe enough to post their beautiful faces online, complete with cheesecake.
Now I miss the crowding-into-my-house days, as the tall teens ramble with their friends, outdoors. They talk loudly and rudely, until the small ones run down from the houses to join them-- they clean up considerably, then, and become responsible and kind, teaching how to kick a soccer ball and how to fill a water balloon.
I joke with friends that I alternate between Martha Stewart and Atilla the Hun. This-- the cheesecake day-- was a Martha day.