Yes, I had a good Christmas, thank you very much. I thoroughly enjoyed every cookie along the way--I liked them all. Maybe it's my age, but I even enjoyed a few samplings of fruitcake which I normally don't indulge in.Speaking of fruitcakes, for many years the makers have experienced sluggish sales during the supposed-to-be big holiday season. However, suddenly fruitcakes have started selling like hot cakes. I learned this by reading a blurb attached to a fruitcake. It explained how the Trappists' Assumption Abbey, situated in the Missouri Ozark Mountains, has forever depended on fruitcake sales for survival. Now, they too have experienced the economic boom.The monks, in their quiet, peaceful atmosphere, mix, pat and bake their rum and pineapple delicacy every day of the year -- 125 cakes a day. The blurb didn't say whether they were going to increase production, but their reflections sounded definitely up-beat.The elaborate Christmas between-meal and bedtime snacks bestowed on me were greatly enjoyed and disappeared quickly. I even wondered if someone was sneaking in while I was gone to partake of the goodies. The See's chocolates, given by a grandchild, I set on the table for sampling by unexpected guests. By Boxer Day, they were gone. I, of course, decided the few guests I had must have pocketed a bunch of them, which I could understand, because they were extremely flavorful.Some of the treats I even tried hiding from myself. That's difficult to do. I couldn't decide which cookie I liked best. There were the thin lemon flavored wafers with each end dipped in dark chocolate from a neighbor down the road--superb. The traditional spritz cookies baked by a daughter-in-law surpassed all others I'd ever eaten. The extra large oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from a friend were divine, evidently a recipe concocted by angels.That may explain why trying to hide them from myself didn't work. I even tried freezing some, but they tasted even better cold and crunchy. I haven't yet mentioned the homemade chocolate fudge sent in the mail from a sister-in-law--absolutely mind-blowing, with enough calories to sustain a third world country's population for a year.Friends through the woods dropped by with an arrangement for the table of decorated cookie figures. Fortunately I had a poinsettia to replace it since most of the figures had disappeared within a couple of days.Such holiday indulgences are nearly over now. By some miracle, I'm about to enter the year 2001 weighing less than in previous years. I won't check the cholesterol, though, until at least the fudge has had time to work through the system.One more day, and we enter into the indulgences of the New Year's Eve parties. For many this will not be a casual get-together with friends; instead, Martha Stewart's famous party manifests will have grasped the host and hostess who will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of the perfect miniature angel-shaped cheese puff.Having developed an attention deficit disorder (ADD) several years ago, I've become incapable of understanding Martha Stewart's lessons in perfection. I tend to tell any potential visitors that I live in the woods, really hard to find, in the event they might drop by to discover only egg salad sandwiches and apple juice in the refrigerator. Memories of New Year's parties can be both painful and pleasant; mine are somewhere in between. From my aging wisdom, let me advise extreme wariness of the so-called costume party. Check it out carefully before stitching up a complicated penguin costume. There is nothing that will spoil anticipated enjoyment of a party and make one feel like a real dork than being the only one in a costume, not to mention a penguin.If you have nothing better in mind for welcoming in the New Year, I suggest begging, borrowing, stealing, or renting a toboggan and heading for the mountains. A few runs down a steep, snow-covered hillside on a loaded toboggan is good for thrills to last a year. And remember, the louder you scream, the faster you'll go.Have a fantastic new year, all year long. " "/> Yes, I had a good Christmas, thank you very much. I thoroughly enjoyed every cookie along the way--I liked them all. Maybe it's my age, but I even enjoyed a few samplings of fruitcake which I normally don't indulge in.Speaking of fruitcakes, for many years the makers have experienced sluggish sales during the supposed-to-be big holiday season. However, suddenly fruitcakes have started selling like hot cakes. I learned this by reading a blurb attached to a fruitcake. It explained how the Trappists' Assumption Abbey, situated in the Missouri Ozark Mountains, has forever depended on fruitcake sales for survival. Now, they too have experienced the economic boom.The monks, in their quiet, peaceful atmosphere, mix, pat and bake their rum and pineapple delicacy every day of the year -- 125 cakes a day. The blurb didn't say whether they were going to increase production, but their reflections sounded definitely up-beat.The elaborate Christmas between-meal and bedtime snacks bestowed on me were greatly enjoyed and disappeared quickly. I even wondered if someone was sneaking in while I was gone to partake of the goodies. The See's chocolates, given by a grandchild, I set on the table for sampling by unexpected guests. By Boxer Day, they were gone. I, of course, decided the few guests I had must have pocketed a bunch of them, which I could understand, because they were extremely flavorful.Some of the treats I even tried hiding from myself. That's difficult to do. I couldn't decide which cookie I liked best. There were the thin lemon flavored wafers with each end dipped in dark chocolate from a neighbor down the road--superb. The traditional spritz cookies baked by a daughter-in-law surpassed all others I'd ever eaten. The extra large oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from a friend were divine, evidently a recipe concocted by angels.That may explain why trying to hide them from myself didn't work. I even tried freezing some, but they tasted even better cold and crunchy. I haven't yet mentioned the homemade chocolate fudge sent in the mail from a sister-in-law--absolutely mind-blowing, with enough calories to sustain a third world country's population for a year.Friends through the woods dropped by with an arrangement for the table of decorated cookie figures. Fortunately I had a poinsettia to replace it since most of the figures had disappeared within a couple of days.Such holiday indulgences are nearly over now. By some miracle, I'm about to enter the year 2001 weighing less than in previous years. I won't check the cholesterol, though, until at least the fudge has had time to work through the system.One more day, and we enter into the indulgences of the New Year's Eve parties. For many this will not be a casual get-together with friends; instead, Martha Stewart's famous party manifests will have grasped the host and hostess who will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of the perfect miniature angel-shaped cheese puff.Having developed an attention deficit disorder (ADD) several years ago, I've become incapable of understanding Martha Stewart's lessons in perfection. I tend to tell any potential visitors that I live in the woods, really hard to find, in the event they might drop by to discover only egg salad sandwiches and apple juice in the refrigerator. Memories of New Year's parties can be both painful and pleasant; mine are somewhere in between. From my aging wisdom, let me advise extreme wariness of the so-called costume party. Check it out carefully before stitching up a complicated penguin costume. There is nothing that will spoil anticipated enjoyment of a party and make one feel like a real dork than being the only one in a costume, not to mention a penguin.If you have nothing better in mind for welcoming in the New Year, I suggest begging, borrowing, stealing, or renting a toboggan and heading for the mountains. A few runs down a steep, snow-covered hillside on a loaded toboggan is good for thrills to last a year. And remember, the louder you scream, the faster you'll go.Have a fantastic new year, all year long. "">Yes, I had a good Christmas, thank you very much. I thoroughly enjoyed every cookie along the way--I liked them all. Maybe it's my age, but I even enjoyed a few samplings of fruitcake which I normally don't indulge in.Speaking of fruitcakes, for many years the makers have experienced sluggish sales during the supposed-to-be big holiday season. However, suddenly fruitcakes have started selling like hot cakes. I learned this by reading a blurb attached to a fruitcake. It explained how the Trappists' Assumption Abbey, situated in the Missouri Ozark Mountains, has forever depended on fruitcake sales for survival. Now, they too have experienced the economic boom.The monks, in their quiet, peaceful atmosphere, mix, pat and bake their rum and pineapple delicacy every day of the year -- 125 cakes a day. The blurb didn't say whether they were going to increase production, but their reflections sounded definitely up-beat.The elaborate Christmas between-meal and bedtime snacks bestowed on me were greatly enjoyed and disappeared quickly. I even wondered if someone was sneaking in while I was gone to partake of the goodies. The See's chocolates, given by a grandchild, I set on the table for sampling by unexpected guests. By Boxer Day, they were gone. I, of course, decided the few guests I had must have pocketed a bunch of them, which I could understand, because they were extremely flavorful.Some of the treats I even tried hiding from myself. That's difficult to do. I couldn't decide which cookie I liked best. There were the thin lemon flavored wafers with each end dipped in dark chocolate from a neighbor down the road--superb. The traditional spritz cookies baked by a daughter-in-law surpassed all others I'd ever eaten. The extra large oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from a friend were divine, evidently a recipe concocted by angels.That may explain why trying to hide them from myself didn't work. I even tried freezing some, but they tasted even better cold and crunchy. I haven't yet mentioned the homemade chocolate fudge sent in the mail from a sister-in-law--absolutely mind-blowing, with enough calories to sustain a third world country's population for a year.Friends through the woods dropped by with an arrangement for the table of decorated cookie figures. Fortunately I had a poinsettia to replace it since most of the figures had disappeared within a couple of days.Such holiday indulgences are nearly over now. By some miracle, I'm about to enter the year 2001 weighing less than in previous years. I won't check the cholesterol, though, until at least the fudge has had time to work through the system.One more day, and we enter into the indulgences of the New Year's Eve parties. For many this will not be a casual get-together with friends; instead, Martha Stewart's famous party manifests will have grasped the host and hostess who will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of the perfect miniature angel-shaped cheese puff.Having developed an attention deficit disorder (ADD) several years ago, I've become incapable of understanding Martha Stewart's lessons in perfection. I tend to tell any potential visitors that I live in the woods, really hard to find, in the event they might drop by to discover only egg salad sandwiches and apple juice in the refrigerator. Memories of New Year's parties can be both painful and pleasant; mine are somewhere in between. From my aging wisdom, let me advise extreme wariness of the so-called costume party. Check it out carefully before stitching up a complicated penguin costume. There is nothing that will spoil anticipated enjoyment of a party and make one feel like a real dork than being the only one in a costume, not to mention a penguin.If you have nothing better in mind for welcoming in the New Year, I suggest begging, borrowing, stealing, or renting a toboggan and heading for the mountains. A few runs down a steep, snow-covered hillside on a loaded toboggan is good for thrills to last a year. And remember, the louder you scream, the faster you'll go.Have a fantastic new year, all year long. " "/> Slightly Retired - South Whidbey Record
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Slightly Retired

">Yes, I had a good Christmas, thank you very much. I thoroughly enjoyed every cookie along the way--I liked them all. Maybe it's my age, but I even enjoyed a few samplings of fruitcake which I normally don't indulge in.Speaking of fruitcakes, for many years the makers have experienced sluggish sales during the supposed-to-be big holiday season. However, suddenly fruitcakes have started selling like hot cakes. I learned this by reading a blurb attached to a fruitcake. It explained how the Trappists' Assumption Abbey, situated in the Missouri Ozark Mountains, has forever depended on fruitcake sales for survival. Now, they too have experienced the economic boom.The monks, in their quiet, peaceful atmosphere, mix, pat and bake their rum and pineapple delicacy every day of the year -- 125 cakes a day. The blurb didn't say whether they were going to increase production, but their reflections sounded definitely up-beat.The elaborate Christmas between-meal and bedtime snacks bestowed on me were greatly enjoyed and disappeared quickly. I even wondered if someone was sneaking in while I was gone to partake of the goodies. The See's chocolates, given by a grandchild, I set on the table for sampling by unexpected guests. By Boxer Day, they were gone. I, of course, decided the few guests I had must have pocketed a bunch of them, which I could understand, because they were extremely flavorful.Some of the treats I even tried hiding from myself. That's difficult to do. I couldn't decide which cookie I liked best. There were the thin lemon flavored wafers with each end dipped in dark chocolate from a neighbor down the road--superb. The traditional spritz cookies baked by a daughter-in-law surpassed all others I'd ever eaten. The extra large oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from a friend were divine, evidently a recipe concocted by angels.That may explain why trying to hide them from myself didn't work. I even tried freezing some, but they tasted even better cold and crunchy. I haven't yet mentioned the homemade chocolate fudge sent in the mail from a sister-in-law--absolutely mind-blowing, with enough calories to sustain a third world country's population for a year.Friends through the woods dropped by with an arrangement for the table of decorated cookie figures. Fortunately I had a poinsettia to replace it since most of the figures had disappeared within a couple of days.Such holiday indulgences are nearly over now. By some miracle, I'm about to enter the year 2001 weighing less than in previous years. I won't check the cholesterol, though, until at least the fudge has had time to work through the system.One more day, and we enter into the indulgences of the New Year's Eve parties. For many this will not be a casual get-together with friends; instead, Martha Stewart's famous party manifests will have grasped the host and hostess who will leave no stone unturned in pursuit of the perfect miniature angel-shaped cheese puff.Having developed an attention deficit disorder (ADD) several years ago, I've become incapable of understanding Martha Stewart's lessons in perfection. I tend to tell any potential visitors that I live in the woods, really hard to find, in the event they might drop by to discover only egg salad sandwiches and apple juice in the refrigerator. Memories of New Year's parties can be both painful and pleasant; mine are somewhere in between. From my aging wisdom, let me advise extreme wariness of the so-called costume party. Check it out carefully before stitching up a complicated penguin costume. There is nothing that will spoil anticipated enjoyment of a party and make one feel like a real dork than being the only one in a costume, not to mention a penguin.If you have nothing better in mind for welcoming in the New Year, I suggest begging, borrowing, stealing, or renting a toboggan and heading for the mountains. A few runs down a steep, snow-covered hillside on a loaded toboggan is good for thrills to last a year. And remember, the louder you scream, the faster you'll go.Have a fantastic new year, all year long. "

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