Karen Bjornland

My quest for the weird and wonderful is never-ending. I guzzle the pungent mineral water in Spa Park, nibble garlic pickles at the farmer’s market and pick buckets of blueberries on Bacon Hill. An outdoor freak, I paddle the Kaydeross in a red canoe and sunbathe at the glamorous Vic Pool. I rarely place a bet at Saratoga Race Course. I’d rather stare at people from behind dark sunglasses and snack on Hattie’s chicken.

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