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Legs, legs, legs. My father and mother were both tall and long-limbed. And so are all of the children. The children who range in age from 83 down to 68. Those children.
When my father listened to the radio, which he did every lunch-time (the news and then "Ma Perkins," a 15-minute radio soap opera), he would sit in his oak chair at the head of the table, his elbow on his knee, forehead leaning on his hand. His legs were always double-crossed. That is, he would cross his left leg over the right at the thigh (skinny thighs) and then hook his left foot around the right calf, making a leg-twist that must have felt very comfortable to him, since that was how he sat when at the table, after a meal. In the living room, on an upholstered chair or sofa, he didn't double-twist his legs.
When a niece got married in Boston some twenty years ago, all six of us flew to Boston from our various homes across the continent and overseas. Since it was rare for the six of us to be together, we made it a point to take pictures. In one of them, three of us are sitting outside on a park bench, with the other three standing behind. The three seated ones are all doing (with no prompting) the family double-leg twist. After that picture we changed places, the standing ones sitting, the sitting ones standing---and again the three seated ones are all doing the leg twist.
Nature or nurture? Who can tell? But you gotta have long, skinny legs to do it.
Food blog: http://fastandfearlesscooking.blogspot.ca
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