I want to go someplace in 2018. By someplace, I mean not Vegas. Not even (gasp!) California, my go-to wine-guzzling destination.
I have a knack, apparently, for mixing cultural elements in food and making them delicious. I love that about me.
I recommend a bowl of popcorn, a nice Napa Chardonnay or a sparkling wine (if you must), and turning on YouTube and just kicking back to enjoy. By the way, there's quite a bit of food porn involved.
I, for one, went from "annoyed" to pissed. I don't know who did the editing/abridging, but I'd bet my firstborn that it wasn't Rex Pickett. Sorry, Zach! That was figurative.
I "read" books about health, which, unfortunately, were few and far between. The fact that my waistline has more or less disappeared in a pile of zaftig, prove that the reading that I *have* done, I haven't necessarily put into practice.
I'm originally from the outskirts of Philadelphia, and I'm horrified at the wimp I've become.
I finally found my real estate soulmate and moved in last month after weeks of HGTVing my way into getting it into habitable (for me) shape.
I have been calling this my “Body Bag House,” because that's the only way I'm going to be carried out of it when I am very old and very gray. Clairol notwithstanding.
We were happily surprised with the quality of the Paso Robles Pinot Noirs. So much so that I found myself thinking: Is there *anything* that Paso can't do?!?
Well, my friends Rick and Jarlene went to Cambria, California - actually Paso Robles – for Rick's special birthday. I won't say how old he is, but let's just say that he's been around the block a time or two. Or several.