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Pudding Days


What is it about ice storms and cold that sends me running for a spoon and bowl?  I can't seem to stop making pudding this winter.  This evening, after dinner, Mr. Magpie said, "So, what kind will it be tonight?"  The man knows me so well.  What kind, indeed.  A simple chocolate it was.  No whipped cream or fancy sprinkles.  Just the pudding, plain and pure.  Other nights it's been butterscotch.  Next week it will probably be banana (trust me when I say this recipe's special . . . and decadent).  I can barely wait.

P.S. Aren't those sweet polka-dot pudding cups?  My sister found them for me at Goodwill about a hundred years ago, and I've used them nearly every time I've made pudding since then.  My sister's the best.   




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