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December 2002 Issue
A Friend's Blessing
by Victoria Smith
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It is the middle of November, and we have been blasted by a northeaster, and are up to our armpits in snow over ice over snow over ice. The van is parked in the driveway, and will probably stay there until March, but this is ok, since we can't get it to start anyway, and haven't a clue why. The 4-wheel drive vehicle has also been ill, and was started by some special starter fluid that friend Art brought over. So we got down to the general store for cat food and sugar. On the way back from town, we passed a house that had a dead deer hanging from a tree in the front yard. Today, you see, is the first day of deer hunting season, and we hate it. The weather doesn't help the animals either.

My mother has been sick all week with some kind of evil cold that simply won't go away, and she is barking like a seal. I hope that she gets well soon, as she is an impossible patient. She keeps getting up to do stuff and getting dizzy. I tell her that she is dizzy anyway.

We are better off than so many; we have heat and power, and finally we have transportation too. This place is so gorgeous, and so deadly. Makes you wonder why beauty is so often lethal.

We had to knock the ice off the satellite dish last night, and my wobbly Mom on a stepladder with a broom in her hand in the middle of an ice/snow storm is one scary sight. So, once again, we have TV. We also have phone, or you wouldn't be reading this. During our trip downtown, we drove through scenes from The Nutcracker Suite. Arches of snow and ice-laden trees above the road... unfortunately many of them have been broken in half by the weight of the ice, including on in our driveway. Not broken yet, just bent to the ground, but it doesn't look promising for that poor little hardwood.

But we are home, and warm, and very glad to be that way.

We have a dear friend from Long Island, who has kindly provided us with some of her favorite recipes, any or all of which can be used as part of a Holiday Feast.

There are all too few special friends in one's life, but Lee is one of ours, and we count ourselves fortunate to know her.

So, Lee, as promised, here are the recipes that you were kind enough to share. I hope that they will remind everyone of the days when home for the holidays was the usual place to be. It certainly is the place where I want to be just now.


Love to you, Lee, and thanks!

Vicky and Mom

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