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           I love hilarious signs, and on our recent trip up California’s coast, St. Bob and I found several. This is not only an area of gorgeous crashing waves, but of cattle ranches.  I like this warning sign:          

          Notice how they fixed it, but then left the first, misspelled one up, anyway. And the bird couldn’t care less. Then there was this one:

         I half expect another sign below it, saying, “Seriously. You have no idea.” And then this one:

Which truly speaks for itself.

          And there are  always companies who don’t think ahead, about how their name will look on a website, all crammed together:

          As we parked to go whale watching, I couldn’t help wondering why someone hadn’t added an IA or an ICAL to the bottom of this one:

          And finally, I learned there are actually people in this world who EXCHANGE avocados. Who knew?

          There’s still so much to learn, right?  Find even more by watching my Youtube Mom videos, full of life hacks and fun information.

The Edge of Romance

           St. Bob and I just had a fabulous whale-watching trip in northern California.         

We saw amazingly gorgeous scenery:

       

Very romantically, I suggested we sit on the edge of one of the cliffs and watch the crashing waves. (Not cliffs, just plateau edges, really.)

          Bob was astonished that I would suggest something so dangerous. “I’m not sitting on the edge!” he said. “You’re the one with a life insurance policy—YOU sit on the edge!”

          Well, now I was laughing so hard my knees were buckling, so I did, indeed, need to sit down.

          And next week I’ll treat you to more laughs—all the funny signs we saw.

          Meanwhile, get a jump on Mother’s Day and order my books for your mom!

Warm Heart, Cold Nose?

         Lots of people have cold hands, right? I have a more canine situation. My nose gets icy cold. If I go to bed before my nose warms up, it’s so cold I can’t fall asleep.

          Here are my remedies, in case any of you suffer from what is undoubtedly a sign of great character:

1.      Wear a Covid mask. You won’t get much oxygen, but your nose will be warm.

2.     Rub your nose to increase circulation. It probably won’t work and your nose may turn red. Also, now your fingers might get cold.

3.     Hide under the covers until your nose warms up. See the side-effect of remedy #1.

So the other night I was under the covers, complaining with a muffled voice that I couldn’t breathe, when St. Bob suggested what he thought was a perfect solution: A SNORKEL.

And there is no photo here, because NO ONE ELSE WOULD THINK OF ANYTHING SO RIDICULOUS.

Yes, folks, that is the kind of brilliance you can always find in Joniopolis. Just dial 1-800-Imarriedacomedian.

Traces of his personality also show up in several of my characters. You can find all my books right here.

Until We Meet Again

           I’ve told you quite a bit about our amazing cat, Simon. But now I have sad news. We lost him this week. He passed peacefully in his sleep, on a bench at the foot of our bed. We’re grateful that our church teaches we’ll have our pets again in heaven. I can only imagine the ruckus he’s stirring up there.

          This is the blog I was going to post about him today, and it still brings a smile to my face:

          I think Simon pities me. In fact, I think all cats pity their owners. First of all, no claws. Second of all, no tail. Third of all, a weird affection for dogs. The list goes on and on.

          But I think Simon most pities my lack of hunting ability. Whenever he sees me outside, I seem to be digging in the dirt. Don’t I know there won’t be a mouse under there, let alone a bird?

          And not once has he seen me climb a tree to raid a nest. Yet, you can see these nests with your bare eyes.

          Further, I never keep up my hunting skills. I do not fall on my side to wrestle with a small ball, nor do I pounce on a piece of string. I don’t suddenly dash through the house like a rocket, then hide behind the sofa. And I certainly don’t lick my coat to pretend I’m not watching a string.

          Maybe that’s why he curls up on my lap and purrs. He’s trying to comfort his poor, inept owner and let me know I’m lovable anyway.

          Thanks, Simon. I miss you.

          Be sure to subscribe to my Youtube Mom videos—you’ll occasionally see Simon wandering by.

Having a Blast?

           Can I just stay out of the hospital for a few minutes, please? My last routine x-ray revealed two kidney stones loitering around the water fountain in one of my kidneys, and my doctor said she could blast them so they don’t become actually, raging kidney stones.

          Having had those twice, I agreed. Zap ‘em while they’re not looking. So, under I went, asleep for the simple procedure.  But then—what they don’t reveal in the trailer for this movie—is that you have to capture these bits of sand, now, with a strainer, and turn them in like the loitering criminals they are.

          Not only that, but you have to have someone (St. Bob) do percussion on your kidneys twice a day to loosen these particles. Because being naked again in front of a room full of strangers (a.k.a. nurses, etc.) wasn’t bad enough. I kid you not, here’s the position you have to take for this pounding: 

          Seriously? And you have to drink gobs of water beforehand—how do you keep it down while basically standing on your head?  And how do you and your husband not fall over laughing at these gymnastics?

          Not only that, but am I the only person who sees a bigger problem here? If these tiny bits don’t pass on their own, what’s the downside? I’ll tell you what it is. They can grow, right? And become a zillion REAL kidney stones! It’s just like Mickey Mouse’s broom in Fantasia's The Sorcerer’s Apprentice—each time he chopped it, brooms would grow from the splinters! 

          So what we’ve created here, it seems to me, are kidney stone seeds! This is not my idea of having a blast. I’ll let you know if I move into a wing of the local hospital. Meanwhile, if you have any secret stones yourself, you can order my books here and see if laughing jiggles them loose.