Betsy Ashton

I was going to write a lengthy post about writers and our inquisitive minds. And then I broke my right wrist. I am profoundly right-handed, so one-fingered typing causes great fatigue. I looked at the calendar and realized  the annual confluence of three important...

At dinner the other night, several friends bemoaned how their grandkids don't tinker. They don't take their toys apart. They aren't interested in how their bicycles work. They don't ask how things work. One of my friends thought it was because of the electronic toys...

When did oil become a cult substance? I mean, when did we suddenly need a gazillion oils in order to cook anything? I checked my kitchen this morning to see if I had a certain oil a recipe I want to try called for. Nope, no rapeseed oil. I found three kinds of olive...

Sometimes, rarely, but sometimes, I actually look at what's in my spam folder. I was gone for a few days last week to the practice rounds at The Masters. When I finally plowed through my spam, I found this delectable post. Headline: YOUR SILENT IS A CLEAR PROOF THAT...