The sweet spot

What with the ‘rona and all this year, everyone I know seems to have grown more than a little tired of not just learning to bake all the sourdough and banana bread the world can bear, but actually baking it. If I never see a group of squishy, brown bananas again—don’t get me started.

Needless to say, this frame of mind doesn’t bode well for all the baked goods you promised yourself and your pudgy little cousins you’d be making over the holidays.

So I'm thinking maybe the first gift you ought to give yourself is letting the exceptional Detroit Baker handle all your holiday baking needs.

Full disclosure: the Detroit Baker happens to be my good friend Claire. And, I say this objectively, everything about her is exceptional. She's talented, smart, funny, beautiful and an awesome individual. The world could definitely use more people like her.

But the good news is you can have someone just like her baking all the sweet treats for you and yours this holiday season.

Claire and I used to work together at an agency, and I used to enjoy all her baking for free. Whenever there was a birthday, work anniversary or special occasion, all of us looked forward to her bringing in some incredible, imaginative, original baked treats. They’d be in the coffee room, and throughout the day I’d just casually and (so I thought) inconspicuously keep sauntering in to have another bite.

I’m sure my co-workers would’ve loved some, but he who hesitates and all that.

I once told Claire about the fact that I'm allergic to chocolate. She looked startled and said, “That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.”

Anyway, visit her site at DetroitBaker.com, and order some of the many sweet treats she has to offer. Or if you have something specific in mind, she'll make it one-of-a-kind custom just for you.

And while you’re there, do me a favor and remind her about my chocolate allergy, and let her know I'm still waiting for the oatmeal raisin cookies.

The finish line. Again.

Five years ago, I put up this post about my run up to the new year.

Sad to say it's a relevant now as it was then.

Sure, I could've thought up a brand new post to start the new year off. But then I would've had to put down my bagel with cream cheese and lox, cookies, egg quiche and homemade waffles.

Of course I wasn't eating them all at once. But every time it occurred to me to get a post up, I did seem to have something in my hands on the way to my mouth.

Anyway, tomorrow or the day after I'll start bringing the funny with brand new posts again. In the meantime, please to enjoy this gem one more time.

I'm going to get dessert.

I do it every year. The resolution about losing weight. And before the clock strikes midnight on New Year's, I also do something else every year.

I pack it away like Oprah in a cupcake factory.

I'm not proud. I'm not hungry either.

It's just that I know with the resolution made and the food deadline looming, I want to make sure and stuff my face while I still can.

Without the least bit of the restraint or will-power I've resolved to exhibit in the new year, the run up to midnight is filled with cramming down every last bit of sugar-filled, cholesterol-causing, artery-clogging, waist-growing, clothes-tightening, mirror-avoiding food I can possibly get my hands and mouth on.

I'm like a runaway train. Except my train is all dining cars.

I know what you're thinking - it can't possibly be that bad. The reason I know is because that's what I thought too. Right up until I got on the scale this morning.

Truth be told, it's not quite as dire and desperate as I've made it sound. And even if it were, it's a new year and I'm on it.

After all, I made a resolution. What could possibly go wrong?

Drinking it all in

I don't think I have to tell you that over five years ago, I wrote a post about the many, many branch offices I work out of.

And by branch offices I mean Starbucks.

You may be a little cynical and think I'm bringing this up because it's a Saturday night, and I'm too lazy to think of anything new to write about. Well, no. Not entirely.

The reason I bring it up is because today I found myself working on a freelance gig at the Sunset Beach Starbucks for a few hours. And I noticed the customers who came in and out were very, how you say, beachy.

I've never worked at that office before. But I decided to widen my horizons a bit. I was tired of seeing the same people at the ones I usually work at. Plus it was a hot, sunny day and being near the water sounded like a good idea.

It made me realize even when I'm doing the same thing, there's a way to change it up. It's a lesson I could probably apply to a few other areas of my life.

I know, I should write fortune cookies or Hallmark cards - what can I say, that's what I thought.

I think I'm going to institute a new policy: every time I go work at a Starbucks, it's going to be a different one. God knows there isn't a shortage of them. I think seeing different kinds of people - how you say, clientele - helps the creative process along. That alone is reason enough to work there.

Well, that and a half-caf venti Carmel Macchiato.

T'was the day after Christmas

T’was the day after Christmas and all through the house
Gifts were scattered - a book, a toy, a blouse
The socks that were hung by the chimney with care
Are gone now as if they’d never been there

The family was here, there are telltale signs
Wrapping paper everywhere with Christmas designs
Some gifts were great ones, some not so much
Trinkets, knick-knacks, re-gifts and such

When the family wakes up, there’ll be such a clatter
But the day after Christmas it just won’t matter
They’ll stumble to the living room and look at the tree
But without all the presents it’s not much to see

Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen
Can start on the sleigh, it needs some fixin’
For next year will be here before they know it
And with so much to give, they don’t want to blow it

For breakfast there’s always cookies and cake
Leftovers are ready, we don’t have to bake
We’ll just stuff our faces like the holiday’s not over
Then after we’ll sit and feel bad about ourselves and wish we hadn’t and wonder what the hell we were thinking.

Heaving her Christmas cookies

I can hear the season laughing at me, and it sounds like Ho Ho Ho.

Until now, this Christmas seemed to be shaping up nicely. It wasn't nearly as hectic as ones in the past. The lights were up in time. We found everything we wanted shopping wise. And it all managed to get here in time.

We still haven't gotten Christmas cards out, but the bright side is now they'll turn into New Year's cards. Yet another Christmas miracle.

We were going to have family over to our house on Christmas Eve, then visit more family on Christmas day. It was shaping up to be a Christmas full of fun, merriment, egg nog and family. And lots of bourbon in the egg nog.

That was right up until my daughter, through no fault of her own, started heaving her own cookies when we got home today.

She'd been complaining of a bad tummy all day, but she has that every once in awhile and it usually passes and then we move on to more important things- like what's for dessert.

She was a trooper today in spite of feeling bad. I took her to our dentist in Santa Monica and had her teeth cleaned (something she might be needing again). We had lunch at The Counter, although she really didn't have much appetite.

But once we were home, she asked for the bucket and started spreading a little Christmas cheer of her own into it. Very thankful her aim is true.

So it looks like our Christmas plans are in a holding pattern until we see if she's feeling better.

But as Christmas' go, sitting on the couch with my girly next to me, looking at our beautiful tree and watching tired Christmas movies isn't a bad deal.

The bad deal is having to empty the bucket.