It’s dogwood season in Georgia. The tree out in my front yard is full of blooms, as are the rest of the numerous dogwood trees in Atlanta, and man are they beautiful. This time of year always reminds me of the first time I spent any time in Atlanta. I had flown in for the weekend to visit the UGA and Emory Law Schools. It was one of those beautiful spring days that are so great in GA: the sun was out, blue skies, everything was in bloom and everything was pretty much as lovely, shining and happy as life gets. This time of year is one of my favorite things about living here. Other than the pollen count. The

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There was this restaurant where I grew up called PJ’s Pancake House. It was one of these great hole in the wall places with everyone’s names and initials carved into the tables, a great short order cook, pancakes à la mode and so much grease soaked into the walls that the it must have suffered at least two fires over the years. With the fires came remodeling and, while the carved table tops remain, the place has somewhat moved away from its divey roots. The last time I was there, I was stunned and kind of saddened to find that I could order a cappuccino. This just wasn’t the PJ’s I knew as a kid. However, the line still runs out

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I admit it. I’m a beet convert. I used to turn up my nose at beets, convinced that they were just terrible, but I really don’t know why. Honestly, I can’t remember ever having tried beets so as to form that opinion. All I know is that I had it fixed in my head that beets were about as awful as liver and should be avoided at all costs. As it turns out, I was wrong about beets. (I’m sticking with my opinion of liver though.) Beets are magical vegetables: sweet, bright purple (occasionally gold) and packed with all kinds of antioxidants and other good stuff. Yep. I’m a convert. I picked up a few beets at the store the

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I’m making an effort to eat less processed food, but every once in a while I find myself out and about and am starving. And I’m not a pleasant hungry person — I go into total meltdown. Dark Vader’s got nuthin’ on a hangry Morgan. In order to prevent my inevitable turn to the dark side, I’ve been carrying around some protein bars from the grocery store, but they tend to violate the “real word” rule. (yes, I know that chemical names are real words, but you get the point.) So I decided to make some granola bars for myself that I could have readily available for grabbing on my way out the door, for those mornings when making breakfast just

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