Simplification or Scroogification?

For the first time in over 20 years, I didn’t send Christmas cards this year.

I managed to send out client “holiday” cards, as I have every year I’ve been in business for myself (and am more than a little concerned because so few clients acknowledged them — I think it’s a sign of bad things to come in the new year.)

But the personal cards, purchased last year on sale after Christmas, never made it out of the box, even though I printed out address labels and asked Mike to buy me two books of the Botticelli Christmas stamps. Mike, ever-vigilant, mailed out some cards to his family and friends, but me…nada.

I’ve been torn about it. I enjoy getting cards — especially from friends who have kids and send pictures. I even like those newsy-letters that some people think are braggy. I tend to admire what other people are able to accomplish, and how else do you know what people are up to?

In my head, I chalked it up to “simplification.” But was it really “Scroogification”? Others complained that Thanksgiving was later this year, so they lost time in their Christmas prep. I agree; I just couldn’t seem to squeeze in cards between decorating the house and making cookies and wrapping and shopping. But really, I couldn’t drum up the enthusiasm for it either. Why do people care if they get a card, just a card, from Mike and me? No cute kid photos, no real news, just our names and a brief, “Hope you are well. Happy 2009!” message. Especially now with e-mail, and the ease of keeping in touch with people all year long, the cards just don’t seem as important.

But still, it bothers me. Am I too willing to let old friendships and acquaintanceships slide for lack of a few minutes’ time and less than $20 in postage? Is it one more social nicety falling by the wayside in our too-busy, too-preoccupied world? I, too, received fewer cards this year — why? Too expensive? Too little time? Just seemed pointless?

Maybe this year was just an anomaly in my 20 years of card sending. Or maybe it’s the year that cards became a thing of the past. In either case, it’s worth noting.

I’m still torn. I hope friends and family seeing this know that I’m thinking about you and happy to get your cards and photos. I do wish you the best of health and happiness in the new year, and hope our paths cross beyond a simple end-of-year card.

Oh! (lightbulb clicks on) Maybe that’s really the point of it all — knowing that our paths aren’t likely to cross in the new year, or maybe any year, and our annual Christmas card exchange is our only way of saying, “Hey, I’m still out here and I still remember you…fondly.”

With that in mind, I’m rethinking this whole thing…I think I need to be shopping for some Happy New Year cards. After all, I’m still out here and I still remember you…fondly.

If a man does not make new acquaintances as he
advances through life, he will soon find himself alone. 
A man should keep his friendships in constant repair. 
                                                     ~ Samuel Johnson

Sweet dreams

A coworker once told me a story I always remember fondly, especially at Christmas.

Her little boy woke up one morning with a smile on his face. When she asked him what he had been dreaming about, he had a simple answer: “Cookies.”

May your Christmas dreams — and reality — be just as sweet.  Merry Christmas!

 cropped-tray

 Cookies are made of butter and love. 
                        ~ Norwegian Proverb

Cinnamystery solved

I try not to indulge too often in money-frittering treats. But I have my rituals. If I’m picking up a sister at the airport, I’m always early enough to get coffee and a cinnamon scone at Au Bon Pain. If I want to reward myself, I go to Panera for coffee and a cinnamon scone. In fact, I find it hard to pass up a cinnamon scone whenever I see one and haven’t just eaten a 3-course meal. (Although, Starbucks’ Web site weighs them in at over 500 calories a scone! I’d be better off eating the meal.)

Gluttony aside, for years I’ve wondered just how they get those crunchy cinnamon bits that make the scones so addictive. I started seeing cinnamon chips at the store a couple years ago, but they’re like butterscotch or chocolate chips — melty not crunchy. I tried a recipe for cinnamon muffins that had you make your own crunchy cinnamon-sugar crumbles in the oven, then mix them into the muffin batter and sprinkle them on top. They were good, but time-consuming, and still not the same as my beloved cinnamon scones.

Now I think I’ve found the answer. After googling and finding others with the same question, I hit upon someone who recommended these Cinnamon Flav-R Bites® from King Arthur Flour. I swallowed hard and ordered two bags, figuring the $17.50-including-shipping would still get me a lot more scones than I could get at $2-$2.50 a pop in the coffee shop. (I still can’t believe I spent that much on baking chips, but oh well.)

scone-dough1

I picked a scone recipe off the Internet — praying it would be a true scone (crumbly) and not like the recipe I tried last time that turned out more like triangle-shaped muffins (cakey).

scones

Turns out, it was pretty good — still not as crumbly as I like, but maybe because it doesn’t use a whole cup of butter (2 sticks) like the one recipe I saw and rejected for a slightly less decadent version (using “only” 1 stick, and I used a new Smart Balance butter-blend stick to boot). I guess I’ll have to try the richer one sometime to compare. 

For now, I’m pretty content in my cinnamon-induced haze. I don’t care what the diet gurus advise. You can find happiness in pastry and coffee…at least until your fat pants don’t fit anymore.

We can often endure an extra pound of pain
far more easily than we can suffer the withdrawal
of an ounce of accustomed pleasure. 
                                                         ~Sydney J. Harris

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