Potato Soup and … the Cheese Ball

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Growing up, Christmas Eve was a crazy day.  Much like a regiment on the move, we were put through the paces:  Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning… followed by more cleaning!  Then just when you were convinced all the work had surely squared things with Santa, it would all just stop.  Magic! The late afternoon saw showers for all, a single gift opened which was generally a new outfit for church, the now infamous potato soup dinner, and then off to Christmas Mass.  Returning home, we’d get in our pajamas, hang our stockings and be sent looking for sugarplums for the night.

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