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January Zinger

Writer's picture: Jenny Lynn KellerJenny Lynn Keller

For anyone thinking winter in the south is all moonlight and magnolias, January’s weather burst that big beautiful balloon. No magnolia tree loves three degrees Fahrenheit, and neither do I. Add six inches of snow and two weeks below freezing to the misery level, and I deeply regret complaining about last summer’s sweltering heat and humidity.

 

Now I suspect those of you living in colder regions label me a wimp for grumbling about a little arctic air, and that’s okay because you’re right. I unashamedly admit to preferring temperatures between seventy and eighty degrees. But at least pity my family. House bound for two frigid weeks means they endured my cooking for fourteen L-O-N-G days, equating to at least twenty-eight meals and multiple opportunities for digestive distress.

 

As a side note for folks reading this blog for the first time, the good news is I’m resigned to the fact I will never win a cooking award. As in never ever. The great news is everyone in my house is still alive. The bad news is I accumulated a list of items not to fix again. Oh, I’m sure those five-star recipes made others’ top ten list, but only when cooked by others. Notice the common denominator? Therefore, pray for my family as they recover from my cooking spree and send me any of your absolutely foolproof cannot-mess-it-up recipes to try in case it snows in February.

 

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