Sniffing Deeply of Life

    There is a small problem with the Christmas favorite- Bourbon Balls. These little innocuous sugar coated cookies can give you a hangover if you make them the way my mother did...and I always make them the way my mother did.
     I love the recipe she wrote for me when I left home and asked for all those special meals and treats she had made before she decided to boycott cooking forever.
     Bourbon balls:  2 c nuts, 1 lb. vanilla wafers, 3 T karo, and 3 oz. bourbon....or so....
     She always made them the or so way... and so do I. So yesterday, the house reeked of bourbon. At 10 a.m, my husband walked into the kitchen to see me poised at the counter with a bottle of bourbon in my hands. Not even a cup. It was like walking into the Bowery.
He raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
     I made a double batch and mailed some to my mom. It was her favorite Christmas cookie, and drink...all in one small package.  I freeze mine so that I don't eat them all before the kids come home. That rarely works. I almost always have to make another batch. I just chip my teeth eating frozen bourbon balls.
     After completing my baking for the day, I took the dogs on a walk. At one point, Honeybun must have found a particularly tantalizing scent because I started to walk forward, and my shoulder dislocated as she planted her feet and wouldn't budge. Her nose was sniffing a mile a minute, and she had crouched low to the ground so that I could not remove her from that scent no matter how hard I tried. I stood there 5 minutes, indulging her. After all, it is almost Christmas and I was filled with a charitable spirit. Finally, I wrenched her away. I wondered if smells for a dog were like a good book to me. Had I just forced her to slam shut the equivalent of a book she couldn't put down?  We continued (she reluctantly) on, and I thought about all the little joys in life. Christmas memories, bourbon balls, wonderful smells. I remembered a Facebook post from a friend yesterday. All it said was "I am a blessed woman." No explanation. Just a recognition of blessedness.
     This is the proper attitude towards life, I thought. Smelling deeply of our profound blessings.

Psalm 34:
⁸ Taste and see that the LORD is good;
   blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.