Life in a Small Town

Bah, humbug!

At the little post office in my little town, there is a lovely tradition dating back many years. Beginning on December 10 and until New Year's Day, the locals supply sweet treats for all, leaving them on the table in the lobby, such as it is. There are two deliveries each day, one first thing in the morning and the other after lunch. So if you're a sugar freak you can partake twice a day, adding to those extra holiday pounds for free. The sign-up sheet appears around the end of November, with people choosing when they want to bring in their goodies.

I must admit that this adds a bit of excitement to picking up the mail. In fact my husband frequently offers to do the chore at this time, and not so much the rest of the year. There are homemade cookies and breads and cakes. There are frosted things and sprinkled things, and candies of all types. Yesterday there was a bowl of handmade peanut brittle. Last week someone outran the pack with dozens of walnut-banana mini-cupcakes, arranged artfully on a platter and with a stack of napkins imprinted with images of Santa at the ready.

Most days I look away, or brace myself, take a sniff and then pass it all by. But today I went in sort of hungry, having had an early breakfast and busy morning, and was ready to indulge. I was dismayed to find a tin of those ubiquitous Danish cookies, the kind you can get in the CVS all year for $5.99. There they sat, still in the original tin without so much as a red ribbon or shred of silvery tinsel nearby. Whoever brought that deserves a lump of coal in their Christmas stocking this year.