This column offers seven tips to living well in later life.
Pennsylvania: A bad place to be an animal
As I write this, my daughter is packing for college far away. Soon, her room will be empty and quiet. Family dinner will be just me. It’s tough on us when people leave, even if we know that they’ll be back.
It was sweet, good and fun for everyone. The Philadelphia Honey Festival, held last weekend, proved to bee the queen bee of festivals — one sweet treat. If you missed this year’s festival, mark your calendar for next September, and bee ready to buzz over there. Besides honey tastings from local beekeepers with jars of honey and honeycomb for sale, there were hive demonstrations, honey extractions, plant sales and children’s activities, along with music and a cooking contest. Additionally, two authors were on hand and discussed their new books – one a bee thriller about colony collapse disorder, sprinkled with suspense and romance, and the other about urban beekeeping. Libations made with honey for sampling included mead and Colonial porter — both “unbee-lievaby” tasty.
There she was, resplendent in a black jumpsuit and a gold lame trapeze-style coat with lavish ruffles, no less.
Thanks for celebration
Whenever I eat a hardshell crab, I think of Jimmy’s. Jimmy’s Apartments were, for many years, my family’s gathering spot and summer home-away-from-home at the Jersey shore.
Methadone can help
The question on the game show Jeopardy is “Heavy on the oil, no mayo, peppers on the side.” The immediate Philadelphia response: “What is a hoagie?”
Fight night in Mayfair?