How long have you wanted to market your family heirloom recipe for barbecue sauce or peach relish, but didn't know what was required by the USDA/FDA, the Georgia Department of Agriculture, or the health inspectors, etc., to get started? Now you can attend a seminar like this one.
Today, many adult children are returning home to live with their parents. Often this move is because the adult child is experiencing financial problems as the result of being unemployed, in the process of divorce or simply because of the inability to earn enough to make ends meet.
"Nothing in life is free," my mother once told me. To a 7-year-old boy, this didn't make much sense. After all, I had plenty of things that I'd never paid for. Surely there had to be something in life that was totally without cost. So I wracked my brain to come up with it.
Some say that a brisk walk does a body good. Others say that reading great literature expands the mind. While I'm sure that there is considerable truth in these statements, I prefer to share another recently discovered bit of wisdom. A leisurely walk in the woods with a 2-year-old grandson replenishes the soul.
One night back in the summer, Louise, Rodney and I stopped to see Russell and Neva, whom we have all known in one way or the other for decades. Yet, we go ages without seeing each other. It's a crying shame, as Mama would say.
Karen Russell's debut novel, "Swamplandia!," is unlike any story you're familiar with, and it may be an odd literary confection that many readers would have to acquire a taste for. However, once you venture into Russell's mystical menagerie of the Florida Everglades, there is an ecosystem of blossoming prose and vibrant imagination. It all weaves together into a mesmerizing gothic portrait of love, death and the loss of innocence.
The following flavor and food combinations, adapted from information provided by the National Heart, Lung and Blood Institute (www.nhlbi.nih.gov), have the added benefit of making meat, poultry, fish and vegetables tasty without adding salt.
When Robert, a devout reader of this column who also happens to be an accomplished researcher in matter of family lineage, offered to trace my family roots, I accepted faster than kudzu can grow on a hot summer's day.
When I was 19 years old, I injured my ankle. Badly. I was playing volleyball in someone's backyard without any shoes on (much to the consternation of my mother). I came down wrong, turned my ankle over and heard a loud "pop."
Valentine's Day has come and gone. Candy, jewelry, flowers and cards have been given and received. I have no idea how many roses were given this past Monday, but I'm fairly certain the number would be in the millions.