Twist and Shout

          I used to be pretty good at tongue twisters. Like so many other talents that pay exactly zero, I was blessed with the ability to say them without getting all twisted up.

          Until now. Enter the Godzilla of Tongue Twisters. It looks simple, but it trips me up: “Irish Wrist Watches.”  Try to say it once without pausing or smooshing it all together.

          And immediately I thought of our son who not only works in the world of luxury watches, but is an expert on the dawn of time.  I mean the literal dawn of time-keeping. He knows every method of time-keeping mankind has ever invented. 

           He works for Panerai Watches, an Italian brand with a store on Rodeo Drive in Beverly Hills. These watches are worn by celebrities, stored in safes by wealthy collectors, and cost as much as some homes. This one can sell for $500,000.00:

He knows all about the big brands: Patek Philippe, Audemars Piguiet, A. Lange & Sohne, and Vacheron Constantin.  (You talk about tongue twisters). 

          So I asked him if he was aware of any Irish watch brands. Sure enough, there’s one called McGonigle:

          I asked my son if he could say Irish wrist watches. He could. Did it with no problem. (sigh).

Be sure to visit my Youtube Mom channel, where in NO TIME, you can find hundreds of great life hacks.

Beware of the Blob!

           I feel like I’m in a Sci-Fi movie and the Slime Monster is attacking. Either that, or somebody seriously does not like scrambled eggs.  Here is what I found on my lawn today:

          And in a flower garden:

              What kind of crazy, creepy thing is attacking my yard?  And what other crazy thing do I have to do to get rid of it?  Is it poisonous? Deadly? Radioactive?  Something I can write about on a blog?

Aha. Answers to questions 1 to 3 are “No.” Answer to question 4 is “Yes.”

Turns it’s called Slime Mold and it’s not dangerous to people or animals. Whew! But it’s super ugly and also has the nickname, Dog Vomit Fungus, which is disgusting, so thanks for that.

So what on earth is it? It’s a single-celled primitive organism that spreads through spores. It’s not a fungus or a disease.  It can show up on lawns especially during damp or humid conditions. Hello??? I live in low-humidity California and we’ve had a heat wave that has dried everything out!

Okay, it’s not poisonous, but it’s in the wrong state and I want to get rid of it.  Luckily you can rake it away or wash it off with water. And now you know what to do if you’re ever attacked by the Slime Mold Monster.

I have hundreds of life hacks (way more useful than this one) on my Youtube Mom channel.  Check ‘em out!

12 Reasons You Shouldn't Be on a Reality Show

 1-         You’re too chipper.  The last time you lost your temper was during the Carter administration. 

2-         You don’t look good enough in a swimsuit; the others would ignore you.

3-         You look too good in a swimsuit; the others will despise you.

 4-         You’re a peace maker, and would try to get everyone else to get along, or at least join you in singing a few show tunes. 

5-         You don’t have enough tattoos. 

6-         You don’t secretly want to be an actress. 

7-         Your nose runs when you over exert yourself.

 8-         You’d need too many luxury items: tweezers, concealer, hair gel, wrinkle cream, lip liner, mascara, nail polish, etc. 

9-         You’re too exhausted from raising a family to be a diabolical manipulator.

 10-       You’d want to include the camera men and crew, to be polite. 

11-       You know too many party games and would make it too much fun.

 12-       You’d only be doing it to lose weight, and wouldn’t have that competitive edge.    

So stay home and watch my Youtube Mom videos. Hundreds of life hacks!

 

 

Taking the Cake

           Last week I had a birthday, and St. Bob gave me this ridiculously delicious cake:

          It’s only six inches wide, but it’s perfect for just the two of us. The cake is moist and dense, the frosting absolutely dreamy.

          And it gave me an idea. Why don’t we get similar cakes for all our far-flung friends? These pals are too far away to mail a cake to them, so we’ll just have their names written on them, and then eat the cake ourselves!

Of course, we’ll send a photo so they’ll know we remembered them. We can even send a video us blowing out the candles, and enjoying one yummy slice after another.

          We are nothing if not fabulously thoughtful.

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After the Party...

          You try to have a cool celebration for the teens in Seminary (Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints), for the Prophet’s 100th Birthday yesterday:

          President Russell M. Nelson is absolutely amazing—looks 60, and still sharp as a whip.He became a doctor at 22, finished surgical training at Harvard, was on the team that created the first artificial lung and heart, was a pioneer in artificial heart surgery, has perfect pitch, plays piano and organ, speaks fluent Mandarin and has studied 12 other languages, served in the Korean War, is a father of 10, and has 57 grandkids and 119 great-grandkids. He has visited 113 different nations and has been in an apostle since 1984.

So you want to do this right. You spell “100” in gold balloons. You hang a banner. You bring his favorite treat: Apples. You even have a cake with 100 candles on it:

And you have a great celebration with the students. Afterwards, you load what’s left into the car—most of the cake, and seven of the apples. If this sounds like a story problem, it is both a story AND a problem.

Because the minute you get out on the road, some turkey—and I mean an ACTUAL TURKEY—darts out in front of you.

You slam on the brakes. Everything (except the turkey) goes flying. Apples and basket fall onto the floor.

Balloons pop and release helium. The cake slides under my seat, getting frosting all over the wires and tubes under there.  The phone-to-TV wire also falls into the frosting. I have to hurry off to a funeral, so there’s no time to clean this up, and the frosting turns into cement.

Meanwhile, the turkey returns to its tribe, a hero for having even tried to cross the street.

And, somehow, I have to think that President Nelson would have gotten a kick out of this. 

Have you subscribed to this blog, yet? Don’t wait until you turn 100—do it today!

Fat Friends Wanted

           Seriously, I have got to make fatter friends. For some reason, many of my friends are teensy and petite. 

          They hover around 5 feet tall, whereas I am average: 5’ o7”.  They weigh less than 100 pounds, whereas I weigh, um, more than that. 😊

           Every photo I’ve been in lately shows me looking like Gulliver, with tiny people around me.

                 If I had fatter and taller friends, I could be the cute, little pixie in the picture. Even my daughter-in-law is like a miniature person. She looks like a teenager, but she's actually 33.

         Where do these wee folk shop? The children’s department? Do they buy kid-sized hangers? Do they purchase children-sized sunglasses? 

When they sit down, do their feet always swing? How do they reach the top shelves in the supermarket? How do they buy bracelets that don’t fall off? 

          Do they not know about ice cream or pie? Do they have no good recipes?  Do they run down the street on purpose?

          I love my friends. But they need to realize it’s okay if there’s more of them to love. You know what I mean?  Eat something already!

Okay, I am not morbidly obese, just bigger than my buddies. See for yourself here, on my Youtube Mom channel. Check out the hundreds of life hacks on there, and be sure to subscribe!

Falling in the Fall

           I was talking on the phone with a friend I’ll call Viola. I chose a fake name from a list of gangsters, and I’ll call her husband Frankie, because their real names honestly do sound like crime family names to the point that our daughter, Nicole, once asked, “How come your friends sound like Mafia hit men?”

          But they’re not. They’re a lovely couple from India who live down the street. And it seems Frankie took a spill this week and fell off a ladder while cutting tree branches with an electric trimmer.

          Yikes! Luckily the saw didn’t cut him and he didn’t break any bones. But he’s elderly (though feisty) and did bruise his ribs badly. 

          He tends to grab the phone while Viola and I are talking, and he did so now, to report that he hadn’t told his daughter yet, because she’s a doctor and would be furious with him. At his age he is not supposed to climb ladders.

          “I tell him all the time,” Viola shouted, in the background. Now Frankie gave her the phone back.

          “I told him just to lie still and don’t move for awhile,” she continued. She didn’t want him hopping up, staggering about, and falling again.

          “That sounds good,” I told her, “but then, while he's still on the ground, you should have walked away and turned on the sprinklers.”

          Well, she laughed so hard she snorted, at which point Frankie grabbed the phone again and said, “What are you saying to her? What are you saying to her?”

          She was wheezing too hard to explain, so I told him about the sprinkler plan. I still stand by this excellent idea.

          “Augh,” he scoffed. Then immediately he wanted us all to get together. And those are the friendships we all love to have.

Stay off ladders and sit at your computer to watch my Youtube Mom channel, filled with clever life hacks.