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Sunday, December 02, 2007


I snagged this first picture from the Internet. I think this baby's smile says it all.
Obviously she is eating chocolate.

The little guy in this picture is my grandnephew Alec attacking a chocolate covered cream puff just like any healthy little boy should. This was taken several years ago. He's a big boy now.

At Christmas time I usually get a box of nice chocolates. My mom always had them at Christmas time too. Recent reports are telling us that dark chocolate is good for us. Unfortunately the fat it's made with is not. I have always favored milk chocolate, so wouldn't get as much benefit anyway. So I just try not to eat too much of that decadent stuff.

When I was a child I remember waking up on Christmas morning to the smell of wood smoke from our wood burning heater and cook stove, intermingled with the fragrance of fresh brewed coffee. After a mad dash to the outhouse, a quick wash I was ready for Christmas, Oh Boy, was I ready!

Hopping out of my warm bed took some courage, as the floor was cold and the house had not warmed up yet, but that didn't stop my two little sisters and me as we bounded down the stairs nearly falling over one another in the process!

I knew there would be some special treats because I had seen mom making candies, cookies and her special date nut cake during the weeks before this wonderful day.

Mom always wanted us to have breakfast before we opened our presents and began sampling the treats, but trying to get a bowl of porridge down when there were juicy, sweet oranges in our stocking and dishes of sugary treats beckoning, was nearly impossible. Usually a few swallows was all we could manage. Dad never pushed us to eat breakfast first. He was always just as excited for us to open our presents as we were. Of course mom didn't want to clean up after sick kids. I sure don't blame her for that!

I have a lot of wonderful Christmas memories. Some I have shared in past posts.

In my next post I plan to tell about one of my most wonderful childhood Christmases.



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