And while it's still Christmas, which it still is in Tucson for another hour and nine minutes, and while I'm sitting here with my dog smelling strangely of vanilla dreaming warmly in my lap and carols echoing up into the rafters of my unfinished ceiling, I'd like to try to express how utterly content I feel. The spoon cookies convey a little of what I mean, but - and don't laugh - I keep coming back to the silky floppiness of the puppy's ears, the rich buttery taste of the gnocchi (I may have a gnocchi problem) we had for Christmas dinner, and the goodnight kiss my Guatemalan left behind for me on his way to bed.
If the spoon cookies make me feel a little Naughty, Christmas this year has made me feel way beyond Nice.
Merry Christmas.
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