Tuesday, March 28, 2023

Falling for Bob?

         Well, well, well. Much has happened since you tuned into the last episode of Joni Baloney.  

          Two nights ago St. Bob, who thinks he’s still 18, decided to join in a volleyball game with teenagers at our church. That evening after he got home, he said, “I need to tell you something, but I don’t want you to say anything about it.”

          Oh, boy, is that ever a loaded request. I folded my arms. “What happened?” I asked.

          Turns out Bob’s shoe tripped him (yeah, right) and he fell. His palms were bruised, his neck was wrenched, and he landed on his unwilling hiney.  Which, I might add, is connected to his unwilling spine. 

          Oh—and he also hit his head but he’s sure he doesn’t have a concussion because he looked it up.

          “So, what were you worried that I would say?” I asked.

          “That I’m too old to be acting like an idiot and risking my health and maybe breaking something in a younger man’s game.”

          I smiled. “As long as you’ve heard the words, I don’t care who says them.” Just so we understand each other.

A much safer endeavor is to sit right where you are and click here for all kinds of life hacks on my Youtube channel.

Tuesday, March 21, 2023

Raven Lunatic

         The other day I saw an online post that said, “The Difference Between Ravens and Cows.” 

          WHAT?  If you can’t tell the difference between a raven and a cow, you have more problems than not knowing the difference.

          And then, of course, I looked closer.  Yes, it had said ravens and crows. Oops.  I blame my eyesight. But, just in case I have piqued your interest, here is some information about these two birds.

          They’re hard to tell apart. Websites will tell you ravens have longer bristles atop their beaks.  I assume you need to gather both kinds, pull out a tape measure, and hope they hold still for your analysis.

          But ravens are also larger, the size of hawks. They travel in pairs, while crows prefer groups.

          Both are smarter than any cat, and than most children. Their IQs are about that of a 7-year-old. They make tools, they play, they communicate, and they can deliberately deceive you. They can do abstract reasoning, problem-solving, and group decision-making.  Hey, I know plenty of humans who can’t do that.

         So next time you need to solve a problem or an equation, look outside and hope you see one of these feathered friends, and hope they take pity on you. Meanwhile, check out my Youtube Mom videos for other invaluable life hacks.

Tuesday, March 14, 2023

Peeling Back the Layers of a Writer's Brain

         I must not have enough to worry about. My latest concern is that I will die, someone will look up my internet search history, and everyone will think  I’m a deranged killer. Was a deranged killer. (Are there other kinds of killers?)

          Here’s the thing. When you’re a writer, you look up ways people can die. Involuntarily, that is. You explore the methods of bringing about such a fate for your characters.

You also look up how many roaches are in chocolate bars, how to melt a penny, the wasp count in figs, disgusting fertilizer options, and exploding weeds.

You research food poisoning, burglarizing, snake bites, bear attacks, outright lying, rare diseases, and blackmail. You look into mummies, embezzlement, falling into volcanoes, getting covered in ink, and how to make hair stand on end.

Your interests appear bizarre. Your husband kindly mentions that you change topics like a TV remote control. You stare off into space like a cat does, and then you research why they do that.

A recent glance at my “history” online would be enough to convict many a suspect, although I stay mostly indoors, which is a wonderful alibi.

You can find some of this research in my books and this blog, but only life hacks at my Youtube Mom channel.

Tuesday, March 7, 2023

Four Eggs on My Face

          Well, you’ve got to hand it to me: When I embarrass myself it’s in front of hundreds of people.

          The other night St. Bob—wait, make that Just Bob, and I were co- emcees of a large banquet for the Freedoms Foundation. It grants scholarships to student leaders and even sends some of them to Valley Forge. They also award local charities for helping the community.

          It was time to bring four teenage boys up to the stage for their award. After, I said into the microphone, “We have four boys--”

          At which point Bob said, “WHAT?  FOUR BOYS?”

          Okay, this is not true. What possessed me to fumble the family facts I do not know. “Oh, yeah,” I said, like someone muttering in a padded cell. “We have three boys and a daughter.”

          Bob was laughing so hard he was giggling. The audience was laughing as well.  Roaring, maybe?  “Name them,” Bob said, to keep the challenge going.

          “I am not going to name them,” I said, bristling at the idea that he would quiz me. (Here's a shot including our daughter-in-law, Tiffany):

          Well, the audience loved my embarrassment. Imagine their glee if they simply followed me around all day and witnessed multiple blunders like this.

          I explained that we had just invited four boys up to the stage, but really, can you explain a mistake like this? It’s like the time I called Cassidy’s school and was told “Cassidy doesn’t go here anymore.” In my defense I had just moved him to a different school and had three children in yet three other schools. But I suspect that school's office personnel laughed for a very long time at that one.

          There’s really no getting out of these kinds of whopper flubs, so all I can do is plead with you to watch my Youtube Mom videos and buy my books. Thank you.