All about me: If you come to my house to visit, I am apt to make cheesy grits for you, because 1) my father is Greek and that means I am genetically-inclined to feed all visitors vast quantities of food or I think I will spend eternity in dark, mildewy places and 2) I think everyone will love my cheesy grits recipe even though, after fifteen years of serving guests cheesy grits, my husband gently asked if I could find a new "guest only" recipe. He pointed out that after the first day of visiting, our guests tend to rise early and insist on taking me to breakfast, their treat. Since I like the Swedish pancakes with lingonberry sauce at IHOP, my plan has worked well so far. But I guess I can give the cheesy grits a break. (Luckily, my husband won't bother to look at this page since he already knows my bio so I can tell you - I can whip cheesy grits up in a hurry in case you might want to try them when you visit, just make a special request.) The other tidbit I will tell you is that I have four children, three sons and one daughter. Having three sons means I have been hit in the head with every type of ball known to man. So sometimes, when people start flailing their arms and legs around, I exhibit a head-ducking-twitch.  Having a daughter, or in this case an accessory-gifted, fashion-genius daughter, means I get help dressing for special occasions. A big bennie considering I'm fashion-useless and my mode of operandi is tennis shoes, jeans, and a T-shirt. The color of shirt varies from day to day, in case you were wondering.