Never one for words, nor any good at expressing myself, how may I invite you to this annual holiday party? May we start with the vision?

Somewhere in a distant place, a sleighbell rings.

Its a relaxing evening surrounded by old friends, loved ones, and those whom you'd... like to love in the New Year, with both of our two ovens filled to the brim with a delightful assortment of cookies, wafting sweet fragrant jet streams of baked comfort across the crackling fireplace hearth and into cute-as-a-button noses nestled in the shoulder of a trim fellow or lady slow dancing to "I'll Be Home for Christmas," while on the television George Bailey decides that despite the bastardous nature of Mr. Potter perhaps it truly is indeed a wonderful life, and thats markedly without the homemade bourbon eggnog and other libations they didn't have in Bedford Falls but we here sit enjoying, and I promise you that between the sights, the scents, the feelings, the tantalizations, you being to wonder if its the flaming rum punch, the nostalgia or the vanilla cinnamon perfume that is luring you into a utterly, maleably at-ease, shamanistic holiday trance that, hand-in-Gingerbread-loving-hand, we will use as the setting, the backdrop, the preamble to our collective prayer for snow.

Bring cookie baking ingredients, wine and/or that red dress. Bring guests. Bring .... wait, who is that I hear on the rooftop? (special appearances)

Bake the winning cookies, and you shall indeed be awarded a prize and timeless glory. Drag someone beneath the mistletoe - we won't look.

Be seeing you, and God bless us everyone.
See More