Dorothy Wilhelm HEADLINES
In the old days (before Christmas), if I wanted a grilled cheese sandwich, I just sliced the Tillamook, slapped it between two pieces of bread in a nonstick frying pan and held it down with a spatula or the back of a ruler, whichever I found first. Worked fine.
I hated to visit my grandmother’s house, Christmas or not. Even if you made it over the river and through the woods, you still had a three-mile trek straight uphill to Grandma’s rural Oregon home. There was no electricity or plumbing and there seemed to be a variety of living things like spiders and bats in the corners of the attic where I slept.
I love holidays. I always have. I celebrate the real holidays and the fake ones. I just bought a case of chunky peanut butter to celebrate National Peanut Butter Lovers Month in November. There can’t be enough holidays for me.
Let me tell you about The Great Jalapeno Pepper Showdown, a family legend with a Facebook twist.
The tornado warning was canceled during the night, and the morning was sparkling clear for our planned visit to a Minnesota Twins game.
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