Crazy me

After all these years, I still feel the need to make fudge and other disgustingly rich sweets at Christmastime. Lord knows I do not need to eat them, or even lick the beaters, but still I forge on as in days of old when my children were little. Sometimes I just have no sense. After the fudge, I made a pan of those seven-layer bar cookies that must have more fat and calories per cc than anything on the planet. And I just pulled three small rum cakes out of the oven. They were new for me this year and sure do smell good, but why! I need to listen to less Christmas music! The man and I will eat more than we should, and I will find some folks to take some off my hands, and then thankfully the sweets will be gone. Maybe it is my creative expression of the day or else I am a slave to those unhealthy Christmas traditions.