Monday, December 15, 2008

Santa Claus Syndrome

Good morning. Chilly morning. The temperature dropped 40 degrees here last night. And I forgot, or rather put off till today- replacing the ice melter thingamajig for the water trough. I'm sure it's frozen solid through and through and the little machine I'll add to the water/ice later won't do a thing but sizzle on top of that ice unless I chop Monday goings on.
To town we'll head today to sign two of the younger sect up for the January semester at a community college. First stop though will be to the post office to send off the final installments of Christmas goodies to the Big Fish out East and friends. I made molasses cookies yesterday, froggers as my Granny called them- and I made candy, though the peanut brittle is more like laffy taffy, if you slap it against the counter it does crack, but it's more pliable than usual. Tastes good though. And my infamous chocolate fudge with walnuts and a smidgen of Baileys Irish Cream, delectable and habit forming which leads to Santa Claus syndrome- a round little belly...
And the real reason for my post today- my little brother sent me this in an email. If it isn't the darndest, cutest, wackiest thing. Try this link and do as the prompt says. It's addictive, so go ahead and try to stump the "singers", they'll take it on the chin and crack you up.

And I'll be bringing you more Christmas spirit here as it moves me.

Have a good one, take care-


Anonymous said...

always available to clean up the seconds of imperfect cookies and candies that dont merit wrapping and shipping. Just a service I provide


truewonder said...

Oh you, I haven't forgot your syndrome either...sweets for a sweetie, coming your way. Blucat is Bluegrass Saturday, I'll be there-how about you?!

Jayne said...

You've been busy, busy! It all sounds yummy. Have a merry, merry! ;c)

Emily said...

I was born & spent a lot of time in central Illinois, enjoying that Way The Teeth Chattering Hell Below Zero winter weather, shoveling two feet of ice caked snow off every exterior surface, I feel your water-trough-chopping pain, homegirl. Now I live further down the Mississippi, where a sugar dusting of flurries is enough to merit end-of-the-world raids on the grocery store and nobody knows how to drive on ice (awesome!). Nothing stops the wind in central IL, but it builds character, at least that's what I used to tell myself. And it builds icicles on your eyebrows, which was just a natural fact.

Stay toasty!