Somewhere among the preschool clutter, our fridge holds a list of people who accept baked goods.
I love baking. Cookies, brownies, pies, cakes, truffles, whatever strikes my fancy. But I don't so much enjoy the eating. Rather, I don't appreciate the effects of the eating, so I am constantly dumping sweet treats on friends. Every few weeks, I blast FaceBook: "I need to bake. Who wants something?" I eat the raw dough, my kids lick the beaters, I have the satisfaction of baking, thousands of calories leave my house via post, and my first responder receives baked goods. Everyone wins. Today, I'm baking bread, but I'm waiting on an address. If I don't have RM's address within the week, I'm baking pain au chocolate for someone else. Any takers?
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I blog rarely, because I'm busy writing books. When I do blog, I focus on writing, friendship, family, and books. Because my family's best nicknames are private, I use their birth years for shorthand:
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