Today we tackled the unbaked cookies � bourbon balls (hic) and Christmas wreaths. The latter is a relic from my childhood and is the one totally ungourmet (and possibly disgusting) item on our list. It is made with melted marshmallows and butter, a colossal amount of green food coloring, cornflakes and what I grew up calling �red hots� but are here in the Midwest called �cinnamon candies.� �Red hots� here in the greater Chicago area are hot dogs, not cinnamon anything. Still, I always feel a little dejected when I see the �cinnamon candies� label on the bottle.

AJ and I ran many errands this morning, including buying a birthday present for a party he�s attending on Friday (who throws a birthday party three days before Christmas?), some new jeans long enough to cover his ankles, returning a present, drinking hot chocolate, and getting AJ�s hair cut. I was glad when I got a few minutes to sit down while AJ was at school to read today�s batch of Christmas cards.

It was a particularly good batch. I got a CD from Julia, which I can�t wait to hear, although I�m not sure when I�ll get the chance, given that AJ is demanding Christmas carols morning, noon and night. There were also three Christmas cards. The first was from our next-door neighbors and included a picture of The Girl Next Door�s mother hugging Pete Townsend, whom she met a couple of months ago. The second was from a one-time friend who still sends us cards occasionally and included a picture of her hugging Mick Jagger. No explanation was offered. The third card, which came from my hairdresser, contained absolutely no references to aging rock stars and was summarily tossed aside for lack of interest. I�m fickle that way. Maybe next year I�ll find an aging rock star to take his picture with me for our Christmas card. I wonder if Bowie�s available.

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