for those I love who are struggling this Christmas ... It was only in mid-life that I discovered I adored brussel sprouts. We were having a holiday dinner at my Uncle Jim's house in the backwoods of Tennessee. His mother-in-law, Raymonda, had cooked the little knobby-looking veggies until they were burnt and caramelized. Overdone, I thought. But, I decided to brave a taste anyway. Suddenly, a vegetable I knew only as mini, soggy cabbage was transformed. Now these . . . these were magical brussel sprouts, cooked with olive oil and a bit of butter until they were a dark roasted blackish-brown. The charred bits were the most delicious. But while brussel sprouts become the best version of themselves when you burn the crap out them, I'm not so sure about people. And, this year, I've felt burnt to the crisp. As December rolls to a close, I feel like I must have charred bits showing from the wear and tear of 2016. And I'm not alone. A friend of mine posted