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Eileen Goudge

Why she said “enough already!” to New Year’s resolutions

in Potpourri by

New Year, new you. Wait, what’s wrong with the old me? Suddenly I’m not good enough? New Year’s resolutions used to be the stick with which I’d beat myself up annually. I wasn’t thin enough. Fit enough. Prolific enough. I wasn’t flossing after every meal. And what about that $200 microdermabrasian thingie I only used twice? It was a short list, but the stick grew longer with each passing year as: The five pounds I’d resolved to lose crept off and on. The excuses for not working out outnumbered the times I did. My daily word count refused to budge. The vicious cycle would begin again the following year. Then one year I thought, what if I resolved to make…

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Eileen Goudge shares a cookie swapper’s basic recipe — no BS, no wheat germ.

in Fiction by

Show me a cookie, I’ll tell you a story. They say taste is the sense with the longest memory. It must be true because my most memorable moments growing up involve food. Baked goods, in particular. With six kids, my mom always had a full cookie jar. With five daughters, she had a full kitchen. On Saturdays my sisters and I would each choose a different cookie recipe, then get out the bowls and measuring cups and tie on our aprons. Mom had only one rule: We had to clean up after. Mine was this: Cross the line and get shot. I was the Berlin Wall of baking. Nobody messed with my cookies. Ah, sweet memories. There was the time…

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