After I plunked down my $100 and spit in a cup, “Twenty Three and Me” traced my heritage all the way back to my Neanderthal beginnings. I do have rather long arms and love to chew on a drumstick at tailgate parties. Hmmm.
A group of my “over 50” cronies were discussing our fascinating lives over coffee the other day.
Two had just returned from a trip to Italy, one had been cross-country skiing in Wyoming, and the oldest one in the group had just placed first in his age bracket in a half marathon.
Me? I had nothing. My big adventure was a
As I tried to find a place in the refrigerator for the Thanksgiving leftovers, I made an unsettling discovery. I’m pretty sure I have a mustard addiction. I counted 16 half used bottles of mustard in a freaky collection that is clearly out of control.
No, I won’t be cooking this year even though I will offer a traditional Thanksgiving dinner thanks to Boulder Canyon Kettle Chips. Yes, you read that right. My Nashville son, William, arrived at our airiport with a complete Thanksgiving dinner in a bag….Kettle Chip bags.
It’s all my cousin’s fault. She’s a fabulous cook and over the years I’ve obtained some special recipes from her. None ever turn out like hers which makes me suspect she is leaving something critical out of the list of ingredients.