Making a Great Impression

          We all know the law that if you look your best, you can run errands all day and never see a familiar face. But look a wreck, and you’re sure to see everyone you know.

          I was gardening all morning, which means lots of sunscreen, and pinning my hair up into a very messy bun, not one of those cute ones you see.  I was also wearing grubby clothes and even worse shoes—a pair of loafers with holes in the toes.

          I lost track of time and suddenly realized I had to dash to an eye appointment, so I jumped in the car and drove like Cruella deVille to get there.

          But on the way, my sweat transported smears of sunscreen right into my eye, making it water and sting. I pulled over, took out my hard contact lens, rinsed it, and put it back in.  It was still stinging, so I just took it out entirely. One of my strip eyelashes had also come off from all the crying, so I put it in my purse.

          As I dashed through the front doors the receptionist looked up.  Only then did I see myself in the mirror behind her. Half of my bun was hanging down on one side. I had mud on my chin and on the side of my nose. One of my eyes had eyelashes, the other was bald. My nose was red from tearing up all the way there. My hands were muddy, even though I had worn gardening gloves, and my shoes looked like I’d found them in a dumpster.

          “Oh, wow,” I muttered. “Sorry for how I’m dressed—I was gardening.”

          She stared at me. None of this explained my wonky eyes, but she told me to take a seat. And, of course, this is a place where people try on frames, so every flat surface is a mirror. No matter where I looked, an alley cat crazy woman was looking back at me, and socks were sticking out of the toes of her shoes.

          No less than seven people had to help me—with eye tests, insurance questions—I was there for two hours! How many times can you apologize for your appearance before it just seems like a ridiculous lie?  So if you see me gardening in formalwear next week, you’ll know why.

But I try to look a little more cleaned up in my Youtube Mom videos.

Midnight Shopping

           When you're asleep, have you ever had a shopping dream? Usually I find gorgeous clothing, shoes, perfume, jewelry, and I take them all home.

          And then, whammo—I wake up. And I sit there in my PJs and pout. I spent what—hours—finding all those goodies, and now they’ve vanished into thin air. I feel like calling the police, but we all know how that would go.

          It’s worse than having a nightmare, because you’ve gotten your hopes up and now it’s all for naught. You don’t even know where those stores are, or what street they’re on. There is no way to ever find those outfits again.

Whereas, with a nightmare you wake up and it’s “Ahh… yes! That was only a dream.” And you go on, happy and relieved.

It’s like those dessert dreams where you’re about to bite into the most delicious-looking cake or pie you’ve ever seen and then suddenly WHAPP!  The alarm goes off and it’s gone.

I’ll tell you this. Next time someone says, “Sweet dreams,” I’m going to think twice about that.

If you find yourself awake after a dream, check out my Youtube Mom channel with hundreds of life hacks!

Talking Turkey

 

          It’s time I told you my real feelings about turkey, since most folks eat it for Thanksgiving, and many have it again at Christmas.

          I am not a fan. But I’m not alone. If you ask anyone—literally anyone—what their favorite meat is, no one will say turkey. We eat it out of tradition, but it’s dry and tastes like napkins.  This is why we slather  cranberry sauce or gravy on it. And why we basically eat it just once a year.

          Sure, we like all the sides—the stuffing, the potatoes, the yams, the pies—but we merely tolerate the turkey.

          There are many other large birds we don’t eat—swans used to be eaten, but my research said it’s an “acquired taste,” which means eww. And some aren’t safe, because they’re toxic-- or like seagulls, they taste fishy.

          I say we leave the poor, bewildered turkeys alone. Where I live, wild turkeys wander about freely, often congregating in a parking lot or field. They look like mini dinosaurs, just looking for something to eat, and scratching about in gardens for tasty bugs.

          They’re wrinkled and have jiggly wattles, but seem completely unaware of their appearance. The males spread their feathers proudly, and the females fall for it. It’s kind of cute.

          So… choose your real favorite meal next time, and let the turkeys do the gobbling.

          Did you know I have dozens of amazing recipes on my blog site? Check ‘em out, along with my Youtube Mom videos.

What's Your Opinion?

                 How often do you speak with someone on the phone, then immediately get a survey to fill out?  Several times a week, right? Sometimes several times a day! 

    Give us a one-to-five rating.

    Was the person courteous?

    Did they solve your problem?

    Would you recommend us to your friends?

    Can you please write a review on every social media platform that exists?

                On and on.

                But I’ll bet you’re like me: Even if I give a high rating, that doesn’t mean I’m now hoping for 15 to 30 minutes of follow-up questions.

                It wasn’t too many years ago that this was unheard of. Maybe it blossomed with cell phones or internet searches.  But few of us have the time or motivation to spend that much time evaluating.

                I’m tempted to send a survey back:

    How was I as a customer? Give me a one-to-five rating.

    Did I spend enough money at your business?

    Did I present too difficult a problem?

    Did I keep your employee on the phone too long?

    Did I hang up midway through and force you to call back?

    Did I have roosters crowing in the background?

    Did I understand your language?

    Did I fill out your forms completely?

    Can you please write a novel extoling my virtues?

                Thank goodness there’s a delete button. (But then what if the delete people want to send me a review?)

                It’s not too late to buy my book, A LITTLE CHRISTMAS PRAYER for everyone on your gift list! It’s perfect for anyone of any faith. Just $3.49!

All Choked Up

           I recently had the pleasure of visiting the Emergency Room.  Ah, yes, everyone’s favorite hangout. Only I was not there because of illness or accident. I was there because of klutzy pill-taking.

          Yes, I had to report the embarrassing truth, that I had INHALED a vitamin pill, instead of swallowing it. Mind you, this is not the sort of stuck pill that can be solved by swallowing a pinch of bread. It wasn’t stuck in my esophagus, but my trachea—the little airway tube that leads to your lungs.

          Well, of course it was late at night and no actual lung doctors were hanging out. They were probably all at home, watching E.R. on television.

          Nope, the only people there were other patients, all of whom were mighty concerned that I couldn’t stop coughing. A nurse finally told me to wear a mask, because other patients were worried.

          “Tell them I’m choking,” I explained. “I’m not contagious.”  But this did not ease their fears, so I had to wear a mask and make the situation even worse, because now I couldn’t inhale a breath strong enough to dislodge the pill.

          They suggested I be admitted to a room (probably to get me out of the E.R.), where I could cough all night until a lung specialist showed up the next morning to do surgery. They took x-rays to help this imaginary person, hours from seeing me.

          I decided I could go home and cough all night much more comfortably, and then—cue the heavenly choir—the pill finally dissolved and came out in tiny bits. The trachea is a lot dryer than the esophagus, so it took hours. But at last I was free. Sore sides, but hey, freedom.

          And now I am super careful swallowing pills. No more knocking them back in a bunch. Just one at a time, like handling tiny hand grenades.

My book, A Little Christmas Prayer, is the perfect Christmas gift. Sometimes it takes a child to raise a village, and this tale teaches anyone, of any faith, the magic of gratitude. All my books and Youtube Mom videos can be found at jonihilton.com.     

The Halves and Half-Nots

           There is much to be said about the beauty of large birds. The Bald Eagle is even our national symbol. And there are hawks, owls, and falcons in my own neighborhood, since Rocklin, California is dotted with lovely wetlands.

          HOWEVER… these are predatory birds, and if you think they only eat mice and other pests, you would be wrong. They eat other birds!  Yes, that earns an exclamation mark because I was stunned when I learned this.

          In fact, if you type “large birds that will not eat other birds” into a search, you will not find anything. Just lists of the 30+ ones who do gobble up their kind.

          And, of course, they also eat rodents, which brings me to the hideous discovery I made in our back yard last week, when I saw a neighbor’s cat staring at our hammock.  On closer inspection, there was the top half of a BUNNY there! It had fallen from someone’s talons, just like the Norwegian rat that one of those winged gluttons dropped on our roof a couple of years ago.

          AND, one of them even tried to carry away our own little dog, a Chihuahua mix who was just small enough to tempt them.

          This is why I hate nature shows. Okay, first I love them because of the beauty of the sleek leopards, the swiftness of the gazelles, the agility of the Orca whales.  But TV producers cannot stop at this; they have to show you how the animals eat.  And it’s inevitably somebody else.

Don’t we have enough reality in our lives? Can’t we just pretend that everyone gets along, then goes home and slaps on an apron and bakes cookies?

 You could always post a link to a list of their favorite foods, so we don’t have to see the grizzly details. I’m just saying.

Hey, Christmas is coming, and my book, A Little Christmas Prayer, is the perfect inexpensive gift! Sometimes it takes a child to raise a village, and this tale teaches anyone, of any faith, the magic of gratitude. Available on Amazon. Other books and Youtube Mom videos can be found at jonihilton.com.

Terrorist Fairy Garden

           Well, there’s nothing like an innocent fairy garden to get you on a Watch List.  That, and auto-correct.  Here’s what happened:

          A friend of mine bought a new house up in the mountains (we live near the base of the Sierra Nevadas).  It’s on a slope, and she wants to build a town for the fairies on her property. She knew I have one wrapping around a tree in my backyard:

                                                               

 

          So she asked me for ideas.  And the first one I thought of, was to terrace it so you can have level places for the homes, and cute retaining walls made of tiny stones. 

          But when you leave a message, autocorrect immediately changes “terraced fairy garden” into “terrorist fairy garden.” And now, instead of picturing happy, winged fairies you imagine machine-gun-toting fairies and miniature tanks.

          Of course I blame the terrorists. If they hadn’t appeared on the scene, autocorrect would have left the fairy village terraced, safe, and lovely. My cell phone never would have thought I was saying “terrorist” because it wouldn’t have existed. And the world would be a better place.

Are you looking for great Christmas gifts? Buy my super inexpensive (but fabulous) book, A Little Christmas Prayer.  Perfect for anyone!