Interestingly enough “ice” was the first word my mother ever said.  She was always crunching it.  They say it’s possibly linked with anemia and later in her life she wound up being iron deficient.  As a kid I remember filling those darn ice cube trays and how I detested them.  For years I longed for an ice maker and finally got one when we bought our house.  Funny how the little things can make one so happy.  I love our refrigerator with its filtered water and two ice settings.  But I was still stuck with the huge ’70’s shaped cubes or having them crushed to bits.  Recently I discovered an inexpensive portable ice maker that makes small, perfectly round cubes.  It is ridiculous how much I love it and it lives above our mini fridge in the garage.  I transfer the cubes to our kitchen refrigerator so they come out of our ice maker.  They are delightful with my lemon water and, being the good “Whiskeypalian” that I am, I adore them in my favorite libation, a seven and seven with a lime.  Pictured above is my Christmas drink I call the Three Wise Men:  Frangelico, Baileys, and Kahlua.  Rock singer David Lee Roth said, “I used to jog but the ice cubes kept falling out of my glass.”  Now I know why I don’t jog.  😉  À votre santé.