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Saturday, October 1, 2011

I smell cookies

My gal pal and 82 yr. old neighbor, Mary, is back from visiting her daughter and has decided that Virginia is just not the place for her, and she's not moving.  Yahooooo to that news.  I saw her right before we were leaving for Italy and got the great news then.  Now that we're back, I ran over with some warm cookies this afternoon to visit, and get the full skinny on her trip, and vice versa about the wedding.

It seems that for now, she's going to stay where she is, though she may get more help.  I hope she does because otherwise, her house is just too much for her.  She may eventually move to The Forum where we looked last year, but she's not ready to make that decision, and luckily, she doesn't have to this instant.

The phone rang a minute ago and it was Mary wanting to know where in the world I got the cookie dough, because I fessed up and told her I'd only cooked them--not made them.  She was as giddy as a little kid when I told her about my secret--The Festive Kitchen--and their 15 flavors of cookies.  I told her about their frozen quiche that you pour into a pie shell, that liketa killed us it was so good, and she was ready to go get in her car and head straight up there that minute.

  She still has her bridge club occasionally and has tried to make several types of cookies in the past, but she sure won't after this.  I told her to give her old mixing bowls the heave ho and to come on over to the dark side with me.  We were cackling like two old hens.  She never knew the Festive Kitchen existed and I told her I didn't either, until Addie Beth, Bruce's cousin, turned me on to it and once you know, you cain't ever not know again.  With 15 flavors, Mary better get busy trying them fast.  At 82, time's a wastin'. 

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