Hissy Fit

           St. Bob is throwing what, in his home state of Louisiana, they would call a “hissy fit.”  And what has upset him, you ask?

          The ending of a K-Drama we just watched. This is the second time we’ve been robbed of the wedding scene. Episode after episode brought the couple together, we waited FOREVER for them to declare their love, and FOREVER again for them to kiss, and now, just when you’re sure they’ll marry, they don’t.  Oh, they’re still in love.  Just no wedding yet. The End.

          Thanks to my friend, Nanette, who has watched just about every K- Drama that exists, I got hooked on these wonderful, funny, clean, well-written dramas with sub-titles. St. Bob did as well. And in case you have been living under a rock and don’t know about these, they are shows produced in South Korea, hence the K.

          K-Dramas are having a moment. Entire college dorms have K-Drama night, when all the students watch, glued to the suspenseful story. Around the world, people are starting with “Crash Landing on You,” and getting hooked. In that one, the couple became a couple in real life, which only heightens the romance.

          But in any movie, you have certain expectations. You want the villain to suffer consequences, you want the hero to prevail. And you want to see the culminating wedding scene if it’s a romance. Even if you’re an action movie guy who thinks he’s James Bond and has Mission Impossible for his ring tone.

          So, next time we watch a K-Drama, St. Bob is going to forward to the end to see if there’s a wedding. And if not, on to the next one.

Or… you can make less of a time commitment and just learn life hacks by watching my Youtube Mom videos.

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.

And then you can enjoy sweet life hacks on my Youtube Mom videos! Be sure to subscribe!

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.

Beat This Heat

           This is the hottest California summer any of us can recall. So I’m going to take you on a virtual visit to the coldest spot on the map, where I lived for three years: Iowa. When you finish reading, I hope you’ll feel at least ten degrees cooler.

          Now, you may think Antarctica is the coldest, but the average temperature there is only -36 F.  In Iowa, it would hit -40, but really -70 with the wind chill. I kid you not. And remember, this is 102 degrees BELOW FREEZING, which is 32.

         Apparently a jet stream passes over Minnesota, then swoops down over Iowa to dump a fresh load of snow and ice before rising again and heading out over Illinois. 

          You can literally freeze to death as you’re walking along. Seriously, a woman did this coming home from a high school football game. They routinely cancel Winterfest, hockey games, ice skating, basically everything outdoors. TV newscasts show piles of dead livestock, and they tell you how long it’s safe to be outside before flesh freezes.  Why the penguin is not the Iowa state bird escapes me.

          Our dog’s water bowl, inside the house, would freeze solid because icy wind blew through the doggie door. Snow plows would pile up all our freshly shoveled snow into a mountain blocking our driveway, big enough to go sledding on. I began wearing thermals in September and kept wearing them into May.

          So now, when you see temperatures in the 90s—and higher—just sit down, close your eyes, meditate, and repeat this mantra: Iowa, Iowa, Iowa…

Or, you can sit and watch my Youtube Mom videos, full of clever life hacks, including ones about how to cool off!

 

A True Disney Hero

            Yep, I’m a true Disney hero. Okay, Disneyland. Okay, heroine, if we want to get technical. Okay, true only if you don’t think about their movie heroes.

          Here’s what happened a few years ago. I was standing by the water’s edge near Tom Sawyer Island when I noticed a baby duckling all by itself. Where was the mother? I couldn’t see her anywhere around.

But what I did see were three drakes swimming over to cause trouble. Harsh reality nature show info: Male ducks sometimes try to mate with female ducklings, or peck so aggressively that they can kill a duckling.

          Now, this is unlikely to become a Disney attraction, so I reached into the water and scooped up the baby. The drakes swam about in confusion. I still couldn’t see Mama Duck, so I did what any sensible person would do. I began to quack.

It worked! The mother duck came swimming over. Fiercely, if you want to know the truth. The drakes scattered, I returned the baby to its mother, and the two of them swam away together.

          Whew!  Just another day in a superhero’s life, I guess. All is well. You’re welcome, Anaheim.

Be sure to watch life hacks on my Youtube Mom videos. Might even save you!

Radiohead?

           I’ll just say it: The fillings in my teeth are receiving radio signals. Yes, I know that sounds crazy, but crazy seems to be what I do.

          So it isn’t these band members:

           In fact, it’s Lucy Ricardo.

          She had the same problem. Like I need one more thing in common with Lucille Ball. You may recall my blog about that here.

          Anyway, it happens mostly when I’m trying to sleep. The second my head hits the pillow I hear voices. No, not paranormal voices—that would actually be kind of cool.  I hear commentators and commercials.

          I raise my head up, and the sound disappears. It’s not very clear in the first place and has lots of static. But it’s just enough to keep you awake.  Last night I heard, “For just a dollar a day,” then muffled news.

          The Mythbuster guys say it’s nonsense, but scientists think metal tooth fillings can act as antennas and detectors, and pick up strong radio waves. Then the fillings vibrate and that vibration passes through the skull, creating sound in the head. Lucy had crowns on most of her teeth, and I recently got a crown. So…

 

          Tonight I’m hoping the station plays some sleep-inducing music.

          If you’re ever unable to sleep, watch a few life hacks on my Youtube Mom videos. Wait—not that I’ll put you to sleep, just, you know, for something to do.

Oh, You Artists!

           For some inexplicable reason, I have many artists in my life. They’re in my family, they’re among my buddies, and they’re even sprinkled heavily among my Facebook Friends. So let me tell you what they’re like.

          They have no idea that they are particularly talented. They tear up sketches I would save forever as evidence of miraculous talent. When they paint something amazing, they secretly think anyone could do it, if only they tried.

          This is not so. Trust me; I’ve tried. I hurry, I use too much paint, and what I see with my eyes never comes out my fingers. Artists can make a sweeping curve and it will look exactly like someone’s face.  I make a sweeping curve and it looks like a wrinkle in the paper.

          They are also too self-critical. They will make something or draw something and find a zillion flaws with it. Meanwhile, the rest of the world is gasping in awe at what they’ve done.

If I could go back in time, I’d be Michelangelo’s garbage man, and save everything he threw away. Today these items would sell for millions.

          Oddly enough, all my children and my daughter-in-law are gifted artists! It's their drawings (when they were tiny children! )that I have posted here. None of them are doing it professionally, but every time one of them dabbles with it, I am astounded. I wish I could get my brain to work like theirs, and be able to reproduce some amazing thing I’ve seen—or imagined.

          So, if you are an artist, be glad in the gift. Save your doodles. Stop second-guessing your work (or send it to me). And know that the rest of us think you’re pretty incredible.

No art instruction on my YoutubeMom channel. But lots of fun life hacks—check ‘em out!

Snake it Up, Baby!

           Well, here’s some cheery news for you: We are selectively breeding rattlesnakes that don’t rattle.

Yessiree. Why would someone do this? Aha. Someone wouldn’t. But it’s happening because we kill the ones that rattle. That increases the ratio of non-rattling ones, and voila! You get sneakier snakes.

You may recall that I wrote about rattlesnakes in a hilarious blog five years ago. Yes, snakes can be hilarious.

 But they have clearly forgotten that we signed an agreement with them: They would rattle, and we would scream like a little girl and run away. We had a deal.

          The rattlesnakes on Catalina Island have evolved not to rattle at all. Scientists think it’s because they don’t want to warn their prey (which is rather smart, if you think about it). In other areas, some have withered tails, thus they don't rattle, either.

          So now, when you’re hiking or farming or just living your life, you must look for the triangular head, made so by big venom glands. That’s if you can see it against the camouflage they live in.

          In all, it’s discouraging news. But, one little beam of hope is this: Rattlers don’t like to strike if they can avoid it, because they need their venom to kill prey and survive.  That means about a third of all their bites are dry. See? I told you I had cheery news.

And I have hundreds of life hacks on my YoutubeMom channel. Check it out!