Avalanche!

           I was in JoAnn’s Fabrics trying to buy a poster. Easy enough, right?

          Wrong. See the rack? See all the stacks of paper? Well, they can simultaneously decide to come tumbling out, just like snow on the face of a mountain.

          I pulled ONE poster and dozens of them—in all colors-- came pouring over me, knocking me down and causing me to scramble about trying to collect them all, stack them right, and re-insert them into the rack.

          Did any employee or customer rush to my rescue? No. I was left to my own diminishing wits, trying to restore order and line up corners.

          Have you ever seen a juggler trying to juggle posters or even papers? No, you have not. This is because, like live birds, they take wing and fly all over the place. It’s total bedlam.

          In my valiant efforts I even managed to pull a muscle in my back. Finally I got home, but could I get that muscle rubbed by St. Bob? No, because just the previous day I had a mole removed in the EXACT SAME SPOT, so there was an incision and stitches right above my pulled muscle.

          It’s like the posters knew.

          Next week I’ll show you why I needed a poster. Meanwhile, check out my Youtube Mom videos here.

My Second Childhood

         Let’s start with the truth: You can’t have a second childhood if you’re still having your first one. And I have never, truly, grown up. Every week I still play with the absolutely adorable little girl who lives across the street. And her younger brother. I’ve been doing this for four years. My worry is that she will turn 10, then 15, then 20, and I’ll still be five.

          Our latest exciting discovery is that fairies have built an entire village under a tree in my back yard! 

          They’ve also installed a door by my fireplace, and have left fairy dust beside it. When you open it, it says, “Faeries Only” and there’s a tiny handprint that my 7-year-old Bestie says must be where you put your hand to gain entrance. 

        

           They’ve built another door on my front porch that exactly matches the color of my front door! This one doesn’t open but we are hunting for a key, or other clues about how to get it to open. 

          We keep watching to catch a glimpse of them, and we listen carefully as well. We know they don’t show up in photos, so that eliminates the chance of them getting caught on camera. ☹  But one of these days we’ll see them gardening, flying through the treetops, or walking across the little bridge. We just know it.

While you await magical visitors you can watch my Youtube Mom videos right here!

Beyond the Pale

           Maybe it’s because I’m adopted, but I find genetics fascinating. Someone with brown eyes could have kids with any eye color.  Brown is dominant, and it can conceal lots of fun surprises.

          I, on the other hand, have all recessive traits. This means I can only contribute pale, pasty skin, blue eyes, and blonde hair to my children. My tallness is also recessive (though many genes account for our height).

          When you get two light-skinned, light-haired, light-eyed people together, you get kids like that as well. A blond person can’t hide genes for dark hair or dark skin.

          And this is why our third son, the palest of the bunch, came home from school one day with news that his teacher thinks he’s unwell. “You look so pale,” she said. “Do you feel all right?” It wasn’t the first time someone had commented on his light complexion. 

I sighed. “Just tell her you’re Scandinavian,” I said. “And there’s every chance you’ll show up Scandinavian again tomorrow.”  Here he is, all grown up:

We Casper-the-Ghosts often sneeze when going outdoors into bright sunlight (photophobia) and blue-eyed baseball players blame it for different batting averages at night versus in daytime. We’re also more prone to sunburns and skin cancer, which St. Bob and I have both had.

One Halloween I thought I’d be really funny and go as a tan. I slathered on dark makeup and went to a party. All night the only comment I got was, “Wow, you look really healthy!”  

          Ah yes, we all love that moment when your Halloween costume looks better than the real you.

Luckily writers have indoor work. Yes, you may buy all of my books right here.

Guess Where it's Not Cold

         I’ve been seeing numerous social media posts about huge snowfalls. 

          Everyone seems to be layering, sniffling, shivering, and turning up the heater.

          Everyone except me.  I am still battling hot flashes, which makes 30 years of them now, thank you. If anyone from the Guinness Book of World Records is reading, you are welcome to come by and document my achievement.         

Masks trigger them. Within 15 minutes of putting one on, I am peeling off my jacket. 

          Last time I went through airport security, the TSA agent said she needed to pat me down. “Okay," I said, "but you’re going to get wet.” I felt like one of those signs at the waterpark whale show, where they warn you not to sit in the front row.

          So yes, if you guessed the one square foot of space wherever I am standing, you guessed correctly. Your prize is knowing you are waaay more comfy than Joni is.  Oh—and that you can enjoy my Youtube Mom videos right here.

Wrongo

           Do you have any idea how often I’m wrong? Take a guess and join my world, because you, too, will be wrong.

          It’s a lot. I know that’s not a specific number, but neither is tons, gobs, heaps, or loads. And I’m not even sure I’m right about that.  Maybe back in the 1400s some peasant in England decided “heaps” was an exact measurement of some kind.

          My latest wrong speculation was that an apostle from our church was coming to visit our area because they’re creating a new stake. I was sure of this conjecture and shared it at a Christmas party.

          Of course my daring compatriots immediately seized upon this opportunity to profit from my over-confidence. They said if I was wrong, I’d have to throw the next party.

          You guessed it. No new stake. Joni thus had to throw a New Year’s Eve party, but the good news is that we’re on the West coast, and we could have a New York New Years’ by watching the ball drop at 9 pm and calling it a night.

          So, if on occasion you find yourself being dead wrong about something, I say celebrate. Being wrong means you are self-educating. That sounds intelligent to me. By the way, did you know that intelligent people have more zinc and copper in their hair? Needless to say, nobody’s testing my zinc or copper.

And that zinc/copper thing may be a myth. What’s not a myth is that my books are all available here at rock-bottom prices, but mountain-top values!

The Robots are Coming

           Meet Digit, the new robot Ford has introduced, to deliver your packages. It could replace all the folks who come to your door with your Amazon orders:

                   The techies who invented it are, naturally, very excited. The problem is that they don’t think like regular people. And, not to be Debbie Downer, but I can’t help wondering:

 

           What if Dobermans, Mastiffs, and other large dogs live in your neighborhood, see Digit as a threat, and come charging at him like a linebacker? I can see this very expensive robot suddenly airborne, then crashing to the ground and getting shaken to pieces.
           I can also see burglars kidnapping these, then re-programming them to enter your home (no face recognition problem) and steal whatever they’re told to find.

           What about glitches that make Digit take your package to the wrong house?  Or come back with any other packages lying there? And what about adolescent boys who enjoy pranks?  I envision a lasso tightening around Digit and then hefting him up into a tree. 

             I’m telling you, I need to be on the trouble-shooting team before we go romping off into the future without a reality check.

Speaking of checks, check out my Youtube Mom videos right here.

My New Years' Gift to You

           I know Christmas is over, but in my case, the goodies linger.  We are still happily chowing down on fudge, cookies, cakes and pastries. (Yes, I could have made that list longer.)

          It isn’t that we’ve all had excellent willpower; it’s that we’ve accumulated a mountain of delights. I think I told you that when I was a little girl I wanted to be Queen Frostine from Candyland.

          But now that it’s a New Year I need to hunker down and get back to a healthier diet. All was going well until I was out running errands and needed a face mask. I found one in my purse, hurriedly put it on and was suddenly immersed in the scents of chocolate and caramel. YIKES! Busted for eating these the last time I wore the mask!

          So here’s my million-dollar idea for you: Scented Covid Masks!  (Except this one was unintentional and will only make your mouth water.)  But think of fragrances that would help you fight munchies and forget about sugar—I hear mint can work.

Or spray it with an air freshener you like. Think of scented candles. Think of ocean breezes and mountain meadows. Just don’t think of chocolate. Trust me.

You can also trust me to deliver great stories right to you door—check out my books here.