Just Call Me Quasimodo

One week ago, I started walking like Quasimodo. I couldn’t stand up straight, couldn’t bend over properly and couldn’t lift my right leg. I had a massive muscle spasm where my leg attaches to the hip. Here’s what I learned during this long, long week….

1. Some injuries just sound…stupid. I’d wrecked myself while cleaning under the beds. That’s right—I’d developed an SDI (a Severe Dusting Injury). Continue reading

Driving Miss Brenda

Have you seen the movie Driving Miss Daisy? It’s about an 80-year-old woman who should probably hand over her car keys, yet really doesn’t want to give up the feeling of independence that comes from driving her Hudson Commodore sedan into a ditch. Backwards.

Her son—afraid that his mother’s car is going to turn into a 4,000 pound steel coffin Continue reading

When DIY Becomes DIWhy

When I bought this house, the upstairs bathroom had just been installed by the previous owners. They’d skipped a few steps—the cabinets weren’t secured to the walls, there was no exhaust fan and they hadn’t finished the top row of tile above the bathtub—but the room functioned reasonably well. Then we started using the shower, and it didn’t take long to realize that, under the right conditions, you can grow mold anywhere—even in Canada. Continue reading

A Recipe For Disaster
(Cooking With Herbs)

I’ve bought a lot of plants—and killed most of them. Only two hardy philodendrons have survived my tender loving care (and I water them with diluted coffee to thank them). So I’m a little nervous about buying herbs in pots. I have loads of dried herbs and spices, including weird ones like black salt—which is actually pink, and never shows up in recipes. Ever. But I’ve been avoiding fresh herbs.

Then, two weeks ago, I heard a TV chef blather on about how fresh herbs “transform boring Continue reading

The 7 Habits of a Highly Dysfunctional Horror Fan

I wasted a lot of my youth trying to grow up. Sadly, I still act like an idiot. I blame the horror movies. I watched every scary movie I could find when I was a teen. My parents told me not to, but I ignored them. Apparently, my goal was to stunt my emotional growth, because here’s the result:

1. Sometimes I jump into bed so that whatever is under there can’t grab my ankles. You don’t need to tell me there’s nothing under the bed—I know that, because I’ve checked. Many times.

2. Whenever I close a medicine cabinet, Continue reading

Let Sleeping Beagles Lie

I watched a very violent movie last week. Approximately eleventy-zillion people were killed. Most of them were shot by the “hero”—a man who had clearly spent more time at the gun range than in anger management classes.

What did I learn from this movie? I want a beagle puppy. I really, really want a beagle puppy.

Continue reading

It’s Radishgate…

I’d like to talk about something momentous that happened on Friday, November 20: The residents of Jersey Shore, Pennsylvania, finally found out why their town was turning into Sewage Shore, Pennsylvania. That’s right—Jersey Shore had started to smell. Really smell. The odor was described as a cross between a dead deer, old gym socks and a bad fart.

As you might expect, Continue reading