Yule Log Hog: Merry Christmas Eve

Maybe someday I'll read a cozy mystery without having to tell the world about it.  But that day is not today.

That said, I recently enjoyed a trio of yule log-themed whodunits: Yule Log Murder by Leslie Meier, Death by Yule Log by Lee Hollis, and Logged On by Barbara Ross.  Each featured a less-sinister-than-usual murder or alleged murder (it is, after all, Christmas), as well as yule log recipes.  One log was peppermint, one was chocolate, and one was raspberry chocolate.  I ignored them all, instead indulging in this vanilla strawberry version that the husband just happened to bring home from the grocery store:  

He saw it while getting the essentials, thought, should I?, then doubled back because of course the answer to all confection-related quandaries is "yes." 

That's us in a (chest)nut shell.  We never met a sweet story or treat we didn't like.

Speaking of which, I hope your Christmas Eve is as delicious as your favorite dessert.  For us, it's the beginning of a week of holiday activities, so we're hunkering down at home (it's frigid out there!) to feast on seafood and cookies.  

It's what Leslie Meier would've wanted.

I Had Walked Nearly Five Miles (Or Something Like That)

And I could not walk just one more!  That was the song (or at least it was a version of that Proclaimers song popularized by Benny and Joon) playing in my head the day I took these pictures.  You see, the day before Christmas Eve I decided to take a walk on the beach.  The sun was bright and the air was less cold than one would expect on December 23, and I though it was a good time to do some thinking and sneak in some exercise.  So, when I reached my usual quitting point I kept going.  I passed a man with a kite and some people with dogs, and it being Brigantine, some people in trucks passed me.  I saw the Emerald City of casinos glinting in the distance and couldn't help but wonder how long it would take to reach them.  Not unlike our friend Forrest, I figured that I'd walked this far, so why not walk some more?
 

An hour or so later I slid onto the cool, smooth seat of the jetty that borders the water barricading the Revel.  It was strange seeing that (to me) unexplored stretch of beach up close and personal, and I spent a  few minutes taking some pictures and taking it all in.

And then it was time to turn back.

I took my time on the return journey, stopping to collect seashells, both in celebration and in deference to my protesting legs.

Then, once back on concrete land, I came upon this less picturesque but nonetheless much-loved Brigantine landmark:

Naturally, once back at home base I made a necklace from the seashells I'd gathered.

I call it the Mermaid Magic Necklace, and Tammy, minx that she is, models it here in her Venus swimsuit.  "That's one must-have mollusk," the fiance said as he was passing through.

I can only hope he was talking about the necklace.