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From: 0maha Steak Package <0mahasteakpa@patarawell.com>
Reply-To: 0mahasteakpa@patarawell.com
To: bruce@untroubled.org
Subject:  0maha-Steaks Is Giving You A Steak SampIer - OnIy 500 Remain
Date:  Mon, 5 Jan 2026 23:40:57 -0500
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The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city waking up. My cat, a gray tabby named Jasper, leaped onto the windowsill and chirped at a passing pigeon. The coffee machine gurgled to life, a sound that promised a quiet moment before the day truly began. I thought about the book I was reading, a thick historical novel about shipbuilders in a coastal town. The author had a way of describing the smell of salt and pine that made you feel you were there. I needed to remember to water the fern in the corner; its fronds were looking a bit pale. Outside, a neighbor called a greeting to someone, their voice cheerful and muffled by distance. The postman's van rumbled down the street, a familiar rhythm. I wondered if the library had processed my hold request yet. The new biography of that landscape painter sounded fascinating. Jasper yawned, showing a tiny pink tongue, then settled into a tight loaf shape, purring like a small engine. The weather report suggested rain later, which would be good for the garden. The tomato plants were finally starting to show little yellow flowers. I made a mental note to check the compost bin later. The quiet of the morning was a blanket, soft and complete. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked once, then was silent. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, a sound I usually didn't notice. It was going to be a good day for a long walk, perhaps through the park by the old fountain. I should see if my friend Sam was free for lunch. We hadn't caught up in weeks. He'd been learning to bake sourdough and promised a tutorial. The thought of warm bread was appealing. The sun climbed a little higher, brightening the room. Time to start.
Omaha Steaks
Premium cuts, delivered for your table
A Gourmet Sampler from Our Selection
We have a limited allocation of 500 gourmet sampler boxes. If you are a participant, one sampler per household will be provided at no charge. This arrangement concludes Tomorrow.
Our program provides a sampler of our hand-selected, flash-frozen cuts. You will not be billed for the sampler. Each piece is prepared to preserve its quality and flavor from our facility to you.
The contents of the sampler are listed below. The typical value of this collection is over six hundred dollars.
Sampler Contents
Four Filet Mignons
Six Top Sirloins
Four Ribeye Steaks
Four New York Strips
Availability is based on program allocation.
See What's Included
We appreciate your time in reviewing this information about our sampler.
The path through the woods was old and familiar, carpeted with pine needles that softened our steps. My brother pointed to a cluster of mushrooms growing on a fallen log. "Look at those," he said, his voice hushed. "They look like little shelves." We stopped to examine them, their tops a smooth, polished chestnut color. The air was cool and carried the clean scent of damp earth. Further along, the trees thinned, opening into a meadow dotted with late summer wildflowers. Bees moved lazily from blossom to blossom, their buzzing a contented song. We sat on a large, sun-warmed rock at the edge of the clearing. For a long while, we didn't speak, just watched the clouds drift and change shape. One looked like a turtle, another like a teapot. I remembered doing this as kids, finding pictures in the sky. A hawk circled high above, riding a thermal with graceful ease. "Do you think it sees us" my brother asked. "Probably," I said. "But we're not very interesting." He laughed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the canopy with a sound like gentle applause. It was getting late; the light was turning golden, stretching long shadows across the grass. We stood, brushing off our pants, and began the walk back. The woods seemed different on the return, the colors deeper, the sounds more pronounced. A squirrel scolded us from a branch, flicking its tail. We talked about nothing in particular—the book he was reading, the recipe I wanted to try, a movie we both enjoyed. It was the kind of conversation that meanders, comfortable and easy. As we neared the edge of the trees, we could see the roof of our house. The kitchen light was on, a warm yellow beacon. "Race you" he said with a grin, and though we both knew we wouldn't run, we quickened our pace just a little. The simple pleasure of the walk lingered, a quiet joy held in the details: the mushrooms, the hawk, the shared silence on the rock. It was a good reminder that some of the best things aren't planned at all. They just happen when you take the time to step outside and pay attention.

http://www.patarawell.com/kpykpg

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<div style="display:none;font-size:1px;color:#ffffff;line-height:1px;font-family:Arial;max-height:0px;max-width:0px;opacity:0;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">
The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting long stripes across the wooden floor. I stretched, listening to the distant hum of the city waking up. My cat, a gray tabby named Jasper, leaped onto the windowsill and chirped at a passing pigeon. The coffee machine gurgled to life, a sound that promised a quiet moment before the day truly began. I thought about the book I was reading, a thick historical novel about shipbuilders in a coastal town. The author had a way of describing the smell of salt and pine that made you feel you were there. I needed to remember to water the fern in the corner; its fronds were looking a bit pale. Outside, a neighbor called a greeting to someone, their voice cheerful and muffled by distance. The postman's van rumbled down the street, a familiar rhythm. I wondered if the library had processed my hold request yet. The new biography of that landscape painter sounded fascinating. Jasper yawned, showing a tiny pink tongue, then settled into a tight loaf shape, purring like a small engine. The weather report suggested rain later, which would be good for the garden. The tomato plants were finally starting to show little yellow flowers. I made a mental note to check the compost bin later. The quiet of the morning was a blanket, soft and complete. Somewhere down the block, a dog barked once, then was silent. The clock on the wall ticked steadily, a sound I usually didn't notice. It was going to be a good day for a long walk, perhaps through the park by the old fountain. I should see if my friend Sam was free for lunch. We hadn't caught up in weeks. He'd been learning to bake sourdough and promised a tutorial. The thought of warm bread was appealing. The sun climbed a little higher, brightening the room. Time to start.
</div>
<center>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="max-width:620px;margin:0 auto;background-color:#ffffff;border-radius:8px;overflow:hidden;box-shadow:0 4px 12px rgba(0,0,0,0.05);">
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<td style="padding:32px 40px 24px;text-align:center;border-bottom:2px solid #e8dfd5;">
<div style="font-size:42px;font-weight:bold;color:#8a1c22;letter-spacing:-0.5px;line-height:1;margin-bottom:8px;font-family:Georgia,serif;">Omaha Steaks</div>
<div style="font-size:16px;color:#6d6d6d;font-style:italic;padding-top:8px;border-top:1px dotted #d9c9b5;margin-top:8px;">Premium cuts, delivered for your table</div>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:40px 40px 32px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td style="padding-bottom:24px;border-left:4px solid #c9a13a;padding-left:20px;">
<h1 style="font-family:Georgia,serif;font-size:28px;color:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 12px 0;line-height:1.3;">A Gourmet Sampler from Our Selection</h1>
<p style="font-size:17px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0;line-height:1.5;">We have a limited allocation of 500 gourmet sampler boxes. If you are a participant, one sampler per household will be provided at no charge. This arrangement concludes Tomorrow.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td style="padding:32px 0;">
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0 0 20px 0;">Our program provides a sampler of our hand-selected, flash-frozen cuts. You will not be billed for the sampler. Each piece is prepared to preserve its quality and flavor from our facility to you.</p>
<p style="font-size:16px;line-height:1.6;color:#3a3a3a;margin:0 0 32px 0;">The contents of the sampler are listed below. The typical value of this collection is over six hundred dollars.</p>
</td>
</tr>
<tr>
<td>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%" style="margin-bottom:32px;">
<tr>
<td style="background-color:#fcf9f5;border:1px solid #e3dbd2;border-radius:6px;padding:24px;">
<h2 style="font-family:Georgia,serif;font-size:20px;color:#2e2e2e;margin:0 0 16px 0;text-align:center;">Sampler Contents</h2>
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr>
<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding-right:10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr><td style="padding:10px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #e3dbd2;color:#5a5a5a;">Four Filet Mignons</td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding:10px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #e3dbd2;color:#5a5a5a;">Six Top Sirloins</td></tr>
</table>
</td>
<td width="50%" style="vertical-align:top;padding-left:10px;">
<table role="presentation" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" border="0" width="100%">
<tr><td style="padding:10px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #e3dbd2;color:#5a5a5a;">Four Ribeye Steaks</td></tr>
<tr><td style="padding:10px 0;border-bottom:1px dashed #e3dbd2;color:#5a5a5a;">Four New York Strips</td></tr>
</table>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
<p style="font-size:14px;color:#787878;text-align:center;margin:16px 0 0 0;font-style:italic;">Availability is based on program allocation.</p>
</td>
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</table>
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<td style="text-align:center;padding:16px 0 40px;">
<a href="http://www.patarawell.com/kpykpg" style="background-color:#9b1c22;color:#ffffff;font-size:18px;font-weight:bold;text-decoration:none;padding:18px 48px;border-radius:50px;display:inline-block;font-family:Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;box-shadow:0 3px 8px rgba(155, 28, 34, 0.2);">See What's Included</a>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</td>
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<td style="padding:32px 40px;text-align:center;background-color:#faf6f0;border-top:1px solid #e8dfd5;">
<p style="font-size:15px;color:#5a5a5a;margin:0 0 16px 0;line-height:1.5;">We appreciate your time in reviewing this information about our sampler.</p>
<div style="height:4px;background-color:#7e171d;border-radius:2px;width:120px;margin:24px auto 0;"></div>
</td>
</tr>
</table>
</center>
<div style="font-size:8px;line-height:1.2;color:#f7f2ea;font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;max-height:1px;overflow:hidden;mso-hide:all;">
The path through the woods was old and familiar, carpeted with pine needles that softened our steps. My brother pointed to a cluster of mushrooms growing on a fallen log. "Look at those," he said, his voice hushed. "They look like little shelves." We stopped to examine them, their tops a smooth, polished chestnut color. The air was cool and carried the clean scent of damp earth. Further along, the trees thinned, opening into a meadow dotted with late summer wildflowers. Bees moved lazily from blossom to blossom, their buzzing a contented song. We sat on a large, sun-warmed rock at the edge of the clearing. For a long while, we didn't speak, just watched the clouds drift and change shape. One looked like a turtle, another like a teapot. I remembered doing this as kids, finding pictures in the sky. A hawk circled high above, riding a thermal with graceful ease. "Do you think it sees us" my brother asked. "Probably," I said. "But we're not very interesting." He laughed. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves in the canopy with a sound like gentle applause. It was getting late; the light was turning golden, stretching long shadows across the grass. We stood, brushing off our pants, and began the walk back. The woods seemed different on the return, the colors deeper, the sounds more pronounced. A squirrel scolded us from a branch, flicking its tail. We talked about nothing in particular—the book he was reading, the recipe I wanted to try, a movie we both enjoyed. It was the kind of conversation that meanders, comfortable and easy. As we neared the edge of the trees, we could see the roof of our house. The kitchen light was on, a warm yellow beacon. "Race you" he said with a grin, and though we both knew we wouldn't run, we quickened our pace just a little. The simple pleasure of the walk lingered, a quiet joy held in the details: the mushrooms, the hawk, the shared silence on the rock. It was a good reminder that some of the best things aren't planned at all. They just happen when you take the time to step outside and pay attention.
</div>
<img src="http://www.patarawell.com/open/YnJ1Y2VAdW50cm91YmxlZC5vcmc.png" width="1" height="1" style="display:none" alt="">
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