Doctor Who?

           I went in for a scheduled ultrasound last week. These, along with MRIs, come up occasionally when you’ve had cancer.

But it turned out I didn’t need one at all and had driven there for nothing. “No problem,” I thought. “Gas is only $800 dollars a gallon.”

Then I gasped. There, on the wall, was a graduation certificate that said, Rabiologist. 

So now I’m being checked for Rabies?  Excuse me?  On closer examination I realized it actually said radiologist. But they could have chosen a better font, right? Or I need my eyes checked.

Then we were watching Jeopardy! (granted I was in the kitchen, only glancing over occasionally) and they introduced a meaty urologist!  “Well, that’s a bit rude and judgmental,” I decided. 

But now it was my hearing that was the problem. They had actually said, “meteorologist.”  And why isn't that a scientist who studies meteors? We live in a confusing world.

 You, however, need not worry about any confusion. Just watch my Youtube Mom videos and you’ll learn how to do everything!

Tough Crowd

         It doesn’t always work to crack jokes when traveling in foreign countries. They have humor, alright, but it’s their humor.

          For example, on our recent trip through Europe, Bob joked that we came wurst class, but got plenty of sausage. No one cracked a smile.

           Then our guide led us to a giant statue of a man on a horse. St. Bob quipped, “Is that John Wayne?”  Well, of course we all know it isn’t John Wayne. It didn’t even need an answer. (Mr. Wayne would never have worn such a flouncy hat.)

         But the guide adamantly explained that it most certainly was not an American movie star, but Emperor William I. Several times he repeated this, to clear up any confusion.

Then, further down the river, I tried to kid with a member of the crew who was helping us get back on our boat. Sometimes they dock two or three of these longboats beside one another.

The fellow told us to walk right through the first two boats, and enter the third one.

“Hey,” I said, “if you could line up five or six more of these, you’d have a bridge to the other side!”

Oh, no, not possible. That would break the rules of safety. That could never happen. There are regulations. Never could you attempt such a thing. I was already down the ramp by now, but the fellow was continuing, shouting after me about safety rules lest I try such a foolhardy maneuver.

Whatever. Lunch was a fabulous crab salad, a tasty bit of pork, and a caramel apple confection. 

Thankfully I was not given gruel as punishment, and sent to my room. Although their muesli is pretty incredible and my room has an awesome view.

You can find great travel tips on my Youtube Mom channel—check it out!

Unbelievable!

           The following is a true story and happened just last night, at my next-door-neighbor’s home.

          It was late evening and I got a call that there were several crashed cars in front of our house, including a Range Rover.

          WHAT?!?  My daughter and I ran out to investigate. There were flashing lights, sirens, and a gathering crowd. I stood on the front lawn and saw two crashed sedans, but no Range Rover. Then I turned to face my neighbor’s house, and there was a Range Rover INSIDE THEIR GARAGE.

          Did they get a new car? Nope. The driver of the Range Rover had come zooming down the street, crashed into one of their cars which was parked on the curb, then turned up their driveway and crashed into a second car there.

          Was this enough? Nope. The driver then smashed through their garage door, all the way into their garage.

        The word that comes to mind for their garage door is "smithereens": 

               My neighbor and her family were standing about, stunned, and a police officer was already on the scene. The driver had taken a breath test, and was first claiming to have fallen asleep, then to have had a seizure.  Uh, which one was it? Or none of the above?  Who falls asleep in 200 yards after turning onto our street, and who makes a 90- degree turn like that?

          They also offered my friend a $20,000 check. Hmm… somebody doesn’t want insurance involved.  The plot kept thickening and neighbors were speculating as to the real cause.

          Meanwhile, my friend got her insurance company to board up the open garage. “You know,” I said, as the Range Rover was towed out of the garage, “You could hardly have sustained more damage if a meteor had hit your house.”

   Imagine—two cars and one garage demolished in just seconds. It could’ve made the nightly news. Luckily no one was hurt.

Stay safe-- order and read one of my books!

So I'm Not the Only Lucy!

         When you’re cruising through Europe on a longboat, you must make sure you don’t mistake it for a WRONGboat. Here’s what a fellow passenger actually did on our trip.

          We had docked beside another boat; it’s easy to line them up this way. He disembarked, then came back and went to his room. His card key didn’t work, so he went back to the front desk to report it. 

         The front desk happily issued him a new key. Off he went to his room, but when he opened it, all his belongings were gone, and his wife was gone as well.

           Panicked, he went back to the front desk and finally figured out he was on the wrong boat. AND the correct boat was pulling out.  Being a former military something-or-other, he leapt from the parked boat to to the moving boat and just made it.         

          Just saying, somebody could’ve had a free cruise…

          And be sure to take one of my books on your next vacation!

The Lippizaner Lean

           St. Bob and I just got back from a wonderful cruise through Europe, and of course traveling with Lucy Ricardo always yields plenty of material. I’ll start with the Lippizaner Stallions of Vienna, those amazing white beasts who seem to fly through the air.

           I booked our tickets ahead of time so we wouldn’t miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

          After the amazing show of horsemanship, we walked by a wonderful statue of a horse, where you could pose for a picture. Well, this is fantastic, I thought.  I’ll just lean in and get cozy.

          Oh my gosh. Nobody told me the statue is hollow, nor that it is NOT BOLTED DOWN. 

          Suddenly it tipped and there was a gasp from the crowd. I grabbed it, Bob jumped forward and grabbed it, and we managed to steady it before it smashed to smithereens. We took our photo and skedaddled out of there.             

          But now I know why the Liberty Bell is stationery today. When two of our boys were youngsters they sneaked away from the tour guide and tried to ring it, creating quite a fury of excitement (not the good kind).

          So I guess this stuff is genetic.  Oops.

Rather than tip a famous historical object, you can stay safely inside your home and watch my Youtube Mom videos.

Sit a Spell

         I used to love Spelling Bees.  Now the only ones I hear about are the national ones, where kids spell words like the one Norman Rockwell painted, called “Cousin Reginald Spells Peloponnesus.”

          But I have another complaint about spelling. It’s that there is no good way to spell certain things, without spelling something else. For example:

            1.      If you garden, you can be called a gardener. If you act, you can be        called an actor. But what if you sew?  Aha!  No one wants to be described as a sewer, especially in print.

            2.     As a writer, I often alert publications that this is a multiple submission. But when another writer asked me if I submit multiple-ly, I realized the only spelling of this could be multiply, and that means something else entirely. (And I do try to avoid multiplying.)

3.     Let’s say you accidentally got a cut on your finger and now you’re going to put medicine on it and a bandage.  You don’t want the one that stings, so you say to your spouse, “I want the less sting-y one.” Again, that would probably be spelled stingy, and now we’re totally off topic. 

4.     What if you’re doing a big assembly line to wrap toys for a charity? One person can be the wrapper (but that means something else), another the taper? Nope; a taper is a candle, or a verb for slimming one's pant legs. Tapist? Tape Specialist? Tape Manager? Better sign up to stick the bows on.  Oh, wait. A bower is also something else. So is a boxer.

And don't even get me started on the words "singer" and "flower."

HOWEVER, no such problems exist in my books—check ‘em out here.

Dust to, er, Compost?

           St. Bob and I have decided we’re going to live for a very long time. However, we want to have all our affairs in order to keep our kids from having a paperwork nightmare. So we’ve drawn up our will, a trust, and our burial plans.

          We had our eldest son go through the house with us and write down everything of value. He then made a spread sheet and sent it to the other three kids, so they could write their names beside cherished items.

          Ha! Nobody even checked one box. Nobody wants our stuff, and it’s the same with most of our friends. Kids today have more modern taste and our things look frumpy to them.

          And now we’ve hit a snag with our burial plans. Nicole wants to turn me into compost! I’m serious. There are companies that do this. (What do they call it—Mompost?)

          Our daughter, ever the sustainable/locally sourced/environmentally healthy person plans to sprinkle me over her yard. Mind you, someday another person will buy that home, dig me up, throw me into a trash can, and take me to the dump. Well, at least I’ll get to travel.

But what if she has a cat or a dog… oh,  nevermind.                                                             

Put off your plans (or at least don't share them with your kids), put up your feet, subscribe to this blog, and read my books.