Our Christmas dinner this year is going to be grilled by Farmer H on Gassy G. It was his idea. Of course, he's just grilling pork steaks for us, and a sirloin for The Pony. I'll be handling the roasted carrots/potatoes/onions under bacon, the stuffing (yeah, we're not stuffing anything, it's just Stove Top, requested by The Pony), the Sister Schubert's rolls (technically, corporate Sister Schubert is handling that), and the Oreo cake.
Yes, it's a limited menu. All that we need. All that we want. The more festive Christmas dinner will be on December 30th, when Genius can join us. I was going to make Farmer H his sugar-free chocolate pudding with sugar-free Cool Whip, but he has a pie. A blackberry cobbler, specifically, made by a lady who appreciated Santa's visit with her grandchildren. No need to make Farmer H the sugar-free dessert when he alone will be consuming an entire blackberry cobbler teeming with sugar.
I stopped by my sister the ex-mayor's wife's house on Christmas Eve afternoon, to take the prizes for the evening of games she had planned. The ex-mayor was taking a ham out of the oven. It smelled spectacular! They offered me some, but I declined. I also turned down a peanut butter cookie topped with a Hershey's kiss, that fell on the floor. Not that I'm above floor cookies, mind you, but to eat one would not have been a wise choice. I was saving up for the evening meal.
As I left, Ex-Mayor gave me a baggie filled with the ham ends.
"Here. Your dogs will like this."
I had a couple stops left to make. Each time, upon returning to T-Hoe, the smell of the ham ends tempted me to make a bad choice. Who would know, really, if I ate the ham ends, rather than giving them to the dogs? The dogs would never know what they missed. Even if they smelled it on my breath, I don't think they would be tattling.
Did I eat the ham ends? Of course not! There would be Even Steven to pay! Juno and Jack enjoyed them tremendously. Not Copper Jack. He got none. He got an old hush puppy from Captain D's left from Tuesday. He turned up his nose at it!
Beggars can't be choosers, you know. But they can at least appreciate what they get. I truly appreciated Sis offering me that floor cookie, and Ex-Mayor giving me the ham ends (for the dogs!), and Farmer H volunteering to grill Christmas dinner (part of it).