Saturday morning. The cat clawed me out of bed at 5:30 a.m., for no reason in particular . . . certainly not because he wanted to go out. He hates snow and cold, but he does like to boss me around, so here I sit, unwillingly upright, listening to him crunch cat chow. Oh, well. It could be worse. It could be 3:30 a.m.

I mailed Paul's last Christmas package yesterday, and then went to the Eastern European market and bought Hungarian meats, Polish farmers' cheese, some Latvian smoked fish, a jar of Lithuanian lingonberries and another of Hungarian cherries. Today I think I'll use some of that bottled fruit as filling for thumbprint cookies.

I'd like to go for a walk, but I expect the sidewalks are still full of snow. Yesterday morning, on my way to fetch my car from the mechanic around the corner (new headlight), I ended up having to walk in the roadway of a busy street, and then, when I finally spotted some open sidewalk, I slipped on hidden ice and fell down in front of a bunch of work guys. Thanks to yoga and general springiness, I bounced right back up, but I do have a whopper of a bruise on my left kneecap.

In addition to making cookies this weekend, I might get started on the pierogi; and if all goes well, they'll sit in the freezer till Christmas. I was pleased to find the farmers' cheese, which is traditional in Poland, though most American recipes substitute cheddar and I was prepared to make do. As a rule, I am not the ravioli maker in this house; that's Tom's forte. But pierogi dough has somewhat different ingredients, and I'm in the mood for learning something new. So wish me luck.