You'd better come on in the kitchen, because it's going to be nasty outside. I've been spending some time on a thread I started about the tradition in all music, and what it means, and got caught in the cross-fire of pedants. Time to come back in the kitchen, brew a hot mug of tea and have one of the whole wheat blueberry muffins I baked yesterday. Help yourself. I'm on a whole wheat quest, vowing that anything baked with white flour will never sully my tongue. (Where in the world does the word "sully" come from?) I've been lured onto the rocks by "No Sugar Added" baked goods, conveniently forgetting for awhile that when you put white flour in your body it is almost instantly converted into sugar. No Sugar Added baked goods are much healthier for you if you don't eat them. This is my second shot at whole wheat, stone ground blueberry muffins. The first batch turned out to be perfect for knocking someone unconcious at fifty paces if you have a good pitching arm. These are much better. I'll leave some on the table and after Thanksgiving make a double batch of oatmeal raisin-walnut cookies.

I'm starting to work on our Christmas card and it is an invitation to "sit at the Welcome Table." I always liked that concept of Heaven. It has the biggest kitchen table you've ever seen and you can "eat and never get hungry." Or get diabetes or be overweight. "Sign me up for the Christian Jubilee."

Jerry