There were a lot of crappy foods in my childhood meal rotations— cereals with way too much sugar, cheap meats, odd sandwich combinations and frozen dinners— but I never ate macaroni and cheese until I was in my 40s. To this day, I have only eaten mac and cheese a few times.
It’s almost August. Where has this year gone? August 31 is my one and only grandchild’s birthday. He is an only child. My grandmother seems to have set a precedent for that with her being an “only,” my dad being an “only” and me being an “only.”
Author’s Note: Portions of the following column are included in a foreword I wrote for the upcoming book, “Life Lessons for Our Grandchildren,” by Marilyn Tinnin. You’ll be able to find the book in all of usual places this fall.
I’m often disgusted with politics and hype and silliness. You’ll find POLITICS everywhere, even in an office atmosphere, sometimes in a church atmosphere — anywhere there are people.
Every parent has a go-to breakfast. In our house, my wife typically makes the before-school morning meal. Most days, I was already at work while the kids were preparing for school. I fill in on occasion with daddy breakfasts.
Hip deep in another year with teeth bared and claws curled. Humph.
A few years ago, I spent a week in Northern California with a group of people who were gathered together from all over the country. One afternoon, someone turned to me and asked, “Where do you live?”
The nose is a the receptacle for many objects stuffed in there by little squirts — mostly little boys who have no “couth” whatsoever. Their goal in life is to embarrass, mystify and generally gross out parents and all bystanders. The more the merrier. It’s their job and they take it seriously.
I’m often disgusted with politics and hype and silliness. You’ll find POLITICS everywhere, even in an office atmosphere, sometimes in a church atmosphere — anywhere there are people.
There have probably been times in my life that I thought that I understood “sacrifice.” There might have been times I even though I made sacrifices. Those times probably had to do with the loss of certain creature comforts, or — more than likely — a lack of material things during leaner time…
For the past two decades my body weight has fluctuated substantially, up and down, gaining and losing, in both directions. It’s nothing I’m proud of, but it’s also not something I worry too much about. My personal physician stays on my case about dropping poundage (as he should) and— save th…
For the 20 years I have written this column, I have never missed a week. Not one. No matter where I have been in the world, I have always made time to write a thousand words or so about food, travel, and family.
My wife doesn’t believe in expiration dates. Seriously, she thinks that the “use by” date on a package or carton is merely a suggestion. Last week I found a can of vegetables in the back of the pantry that had expired during the Clinton administration.
My son eats too fast. He likely acquired that habit from his old man. I don’t know from whom I inherited my speed eating. It’s nothing I’m proud of, and in social settings I try my best to slow down. Though my son has one eating speed— full fork ahead.
There are “shoe gals” out there who are addicted to buying shoes. They have dozens. Since I can’t see my feet without bending over, I’m not too much into shoes — why bother with what you can’t see. I’m a “bag gal” myself. I pack up garbage bags full of purses to give to my friends about ever…
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