Merry Christmas To All

 For many years I've had readers request I insert a photo of myself to better get a handle on what they're reading. Today I've decided to honor their request and it's appropriate to do so during this joyous season.

To begin I'm not one for sugar in my system. It gives me the jitter willies. Oh, it's not that I can't eat a piece of candy. It's that I consume an entire bag of candy or whatever reads 100% glucose on the outside of the wrapper.

Three months ago I'd gotten off the sugar kick. Gosh, I felt excellent especially when I awakened in the morning. I was loaded with energy and then started hearing this wonderful comment, "Have you lost weight?" That'll put a smile on anyones lips.

Something happened three weeks ago. I was in Kroger Food Store and walked by the cake area. I'm a sucker for red velvet cakes and cookies so I bought a couple of each. The cookies were gone(in my gut) two hours after I got home. I sucked down the first cookie as we left the Kroger parking lot. Charlie was all over me trying to get the crumbs but I fended him off. I avoided the cake until almost bedtime. I was surprised I left half of it for the next day. I considered this a minor miracle.

And then it began. Every day I'd come up with a ruse to drive to Kroger. "Queenie," I'd say, "Do we need anything at the store?" And every day there was something new in my cart. The same way everything bad is Trump's fault Kroger gets the blame for my sugar fetish. It's their fault a container of chocolate chip cookies from the bakery were selling at two for one. The same went for the red velvet items.

Well, four days ago I'd had enough. I even considered throwing cookies in the garbage immediately before I told myself 'I'll have just one'. And I did. I swore off any morsel with the slightest hint of sugar and it worked for one day.

Two days ago my dear sweet cousin from Storm Lake, Iowa sent a box, a Christmas box, in the mail to our home. I opened and there they were-----all 36 or was it 48 of Cheryl's finest cookies. The reason I'm not certain about the exact count is I immediately tore into each individually wrapped cookie with more frosting on each than even the King of Mongolia could expect. I only devoured twelve the first day but I spead them out; four at lunch, four after dinner, four before bedtime. Those last ones are what make alcoholics look and feel like they've been run over by a speeding train when they awaken in the morning; bloodshot eyes, the urge to puke, the whole nine yards.

Yesterday, and this gave me courage to succeed, only five went down the gullet but I spread them out. Talk about feeling like Superman!

Today, Christmas Eve, is a new opportunity to get back on track. I promised you a photo. I took it this morning. Wish me well.