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The Sands of Time. Between My Toes.

It's that time of year when everything conspires to make you think about time. But I have to admit, I'm thinking less about time and more about sand. Where my toes would like to be. Press Play, put your feet up and let your toes watch.
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Warm, soft, sweet. Low GL. Last Call.

Molten Chocolate Cake. The last course of the last meal of the year. Out with a bang. A warm, soft semi-sweet one with a super-low glycemic load. Spectacular in your mouth, with or without Champagne.
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Slower Resolutions

Slower resolutions. Think about years. Think about a year ago. If you started then, you'd be there now. Wherever your there is. So take this next year to do something you'd really like to do. No rush.
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Lucky Hangover Cure

In South Carolina, USA, they eat a lot of Hoppin' John next week. Rice and black-eyed peas. For some, it's the hangover cure. For others, it brings good luck for the New Year. In this version, South Carolina meets Italian cuisine. I feel lucky already.
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Chips to Celebrate

'Tis the season for handheld snacks. Sometime between now and the end of New Year's Day, you're gonna eat some chips. So let's think about making Better Cheaper Chips. Chips that taste better. Chips that are actually healthy foods, not junk.
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Both Ways

It's always so hard. Finding the right card. Winter White? Or warm? Couldn't decide. So when I came in from the cold, I went for both. Press Play. Take a deep breath with me. Have a wonderful day.
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Slower Sunday: How many angels?

About 50. Plus 30 cherubs. Not on the head of a pin. No, they're all up a tree in New York this month. At the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Press Play. And have a beatific Sunday.
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A Creature Was Stirring

And all through the house, noses were twitching and even my spouse thought this smelled so great she wanted to stir, too. Press Play and grab a spoon. Have some fun in the kitchen.
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The Walk That Ate Bethlehem

It always sounded like such a long Way to walk, Jerusalem to Bethlehem. I imagined vast stretches of desert. No roads. No signs. Just the star. No Google Maps to tell them the trek's just seven miles. I could do that on Christmas. You, too.
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