Willard, the big yellow dog who was lurking under the table waiting for possible cookie crumbs and contributing the only unpleasant odor in the mix, growled as if in disapproval of Shelley's suggestion.

Jane's muffled voice was just short of a wail. "Who cares if I have green hair or a smelly dog who likes to roll in the snow? Nobody's going to even look at me. I'm just a cookie-making, fruit-compoting, house-cleaning, madly-shopping drudge with red food coloring under my fingernails and a vacuum cleaner bag full of dog hair. Willard's doing that weird midwinter shedding thing again.”

Shelley got up and poured them both new cups of coffee. "How did you get yourself into all this?" she asked. "You're doing the cookieexchange party and the neighborhood caroling party as well, aren't you? Back-to-back. Friday night and Saturday afternoon. Not good planning, Jane.”

Jane sat up, running her sticky hands through her sticky hair and grimacing. "What a good friend you are to remind me of those," she said. "I take full blame for the cookie exchange party. It was my own idea, long before I got stuck with the rest of it. But as I recall, you encouraged me when I was reminiscing about how nice it used to be when that dear old lady who lived on the corner had a cookie exchange and all the neighborhood women got together once a year.

“I did. And it's going to be fun, Jane. I told you I'd provide the wine and tea and coffee and the boxes for everybody to take their traded cookies home in. I've already got the boxes all stacked up and decorated.”

Jane gave her friend A Look that would have curled the hair of a lesser person. "Right. All I have to do is clean and decorate my house and make tons of extra cookies to be eaten at the party.”

Shelley gestured expansively with her coffee cup. "You'd have to do that anyway," she said breezily. "But how did the caroling thing happen to you?"