• 

Throwback to July 2018

1. Your mother gets obsessed with the buying process and is capable of spending countless hours doing internet research on all the suitable cars within a 200 mile radius of home.

2. Once you tell your mother your top two make and model choices, you may not offer her more possibilities, because she had already spent countless hours doing internet research and she knows there are millions of vehicles out there and you will make her insane by adding more options to her obsession.

3. One inquiring email to one dealership will blossom into dozens of return emails from a dealership.

4. Most dealerships will not just be content with emails.  In addition, the dealerships will flood your home answering machine with peppy, happy, hopeful messages about the perfect vehicle for you that they–and only they–can provide.

5. The title holders of the vehicle (in this case, your parents) are the legal owners.  The title holders can therefore set rules for how the vehicle is maintained and operated.

6. There is just so much paperwork involved in the final purchase of a vehicle.

7. Pay attention to all the legal and financial transactions involved in the process, since next time, you’re on your own.

8. A used car lot in sketchy condition is the first sign that the rest of your encounter with that business will likewise be sketchy.

9. A salesman who is fond of aftershave but not fond of buttons on his shirt may not be making a good impression on your mother.

10. A salesman who says “God bless” about a half dozen times to you is obviously calling on Jesus to save the situation, because it will take a miracle for your parents to agree to buy the car this guy is selling.

11.  A dealership blasting rock and roll music into the parking lot may be a fun place to hang out, but not necessarily a wise place to conduct business.

12.  When the salesman mutters to you, “We really didn’t make any money on this,” he is lying. The dealership is a business with a goal of scoring a financial gain, and the dealership will not close the deal out of pity or altruism.

13. Trust your parents, because we have done this before.  Age is wisdom.

14. Exterior color and shiny accessories are superficial.  Pay attention to what’s under the hood. Cars are like people.  They may be just so very pretty and appealing on the outside, but if the inside is not well-maintained, you are better off not becoming attached, not to mention making a long-term commitment.

• 

Wednesday, July 29, 2020

False claims about the coronavirus and its cures are everywhere, but when these claims are re-tweeted by those in positions of power and living at the White House? It’s enough to make my brain explode.

Yesterday, the claims were made–in a video that quickly went viral– by a group calling itself “America’s Frontline Doctors.” A little further digging uncovered that one member believes that alien DNA is currently used in making medication, and that sex with demons (while you dream?!) leads to uterine disorders and miscarriages, among other things.

It should be enough to make any thinking person’s brain explode.

I couldn’t let today go by without a drink to “honor” these people of zero-credibility.

Pour one ounce apricot brandy into a shot glass. Pour several drops of grenadine down the side of the glass. Using the back of a teaspoon, slowly pour 1/2 ounce of cream liqueur, such as Bailey’s Irish Cream, into the glass. Enjoy the “exploded brain” look for a bit, then stir and sip.

• 

Throwback to July 29, 2013

1. Congratulations.

2. I am not ready for this. Ever.

3. Oh interesting.

4. Yippee. Congrats.

5. Make sure to call the insurance company first.

6. Oh shit!

• 

Throwback to July 24, 2015

1. Non-Newtonian fluids.

2. Magnetorheological dampers.

3. Liquid nitrogen ice floes on Pluto, the dwarf planet.

4. Geosynchronous satellites and low/medium earth orbits.

5. Vectored steering.

6. The Coanda Effect and how it applies to a bottle of salad dressing.

• 

Thursday, July 23, 2020

Life is precious, and every moment should be cherished, even when life is far from the “normal.”

It’s not been a fun July, but we are adapting. And we are clinging to the hope–depicted on the smiling-poop-emoji birthday card presented to me by Youngest Son–that “this too shall pass.”

For now, we look for the simple–and safe–pleasures that can be found close to home.

Nine years ago today, my family was facing the most critical medical emergency that any of us had ever experienced. Our “normal” was almost permanently taken away from us within minutes. Thanks to a skilled medical team, a well-equipped hospital, and lots of prayers, our story had a happy ending, but we try every day to never take life for granted.

We got a second chance. My heart aches for all the pandemic victims and families who did not get a second chance.

Stay strong, my dear family and friends. May you stay safe and protected.

Today’s cocktail is gentle and soothing, and is helping me to use up the dried-rose-petal tea from the back shelf.

Add a tablespoon of rose-petal tea to 8 ounces boiling water. Steep until cool enough to strain. Chill, then add 1 ounce white rum, 1 ounce simple syrup, and 1/2 ounce lemon juice. Stir, add ice, and garnish with dried petal bits.

• 

Throwback to July 23, 2014

1. I made him clean out the refrigerator, clear away all the crumbs, and wash every shelf and drawer inside and out.

2. I bought him a navy Calvin Klein suit, patiently explained why alterations were needed, and laid out my expectations that he will indeed wear this suit on special occasions.

3. I took him to Crate and Barrel, where we examined all the kitchen tools and discussed their usage. He was especially fascinated by the cherry pitter.

4. I took him to La Difference furniture store, where he “test-sat” in dozens of chairs and oohed and aahed the gorgeous modern, European pieces.

5. As he began to covet the furniture, I explained that he could only afford such pieces if he went to college, got good grades, and found a solid job.

6. I enlisted his help in balancing my checkbook.

7. As he began to express dismay at the amount of monthly bills, I explained that he could only afford to run his own household if he went to college, got good grades, and found a solid job.

8. I have re-assured him that cooking supper and folding laundry are no more emasculating than weed pulling and lawn mowing. This morning, however, he chose lawn mowing over laundry duty.

9. I complimented him on his masculinity as I gently applied baking soda and ice packs to the 4 hornet stings that occurred during previously-mentioned lawn mowing.

• 

• 

Wednesday, July 22, 2020

This morning Dear Husband reminded me that today is the 29th anniversary of my 29th birthday. (His timing wasn’t great–I normally don’t appreciate being reminded that I am growing older. But then he presented me with a gift and a mushy card, so I forgave him.)

We tried to remember my first 29th birthday. I was a new mom with a 6 month old, so I was probably sleep-deprived. We probably did not go out for drinks, and we probably took photos of me and the baby in front of a store-bought cake. I don’t remember, really. I was undoubtedly happy with my life, and wondering what the future held in store for me and my young family.

Today’s birthday is definitely going to be one I will never forget, thanks to our current pandemic. My sweet girlfriends have dropped gifts on my porch, but I couldn’t hug any of them. The only people that will share my birthday cake are Husband and Youngest Son.

I couldn’t bear to have the day go by without doing something fun, something to pamper me a bit, something splurge-worthy. (I can be selfish on my birthday–don’t judge me!) I discovered that a local vineyard had set up a “pop-up” restaurant (cheekily named “Phase II”) on its deck, and had covered it with a canopy, so providing shade but not obstructing the view of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Husband and I split a lovely bottle of Chardonnay Reserve, nibbled on smoked trout and salads, indulged in perfectly-grilled scallops, and finished with a flight of mini-pies.

WE ATE ON REAL PLATES AND HAD ACTUAL SILVERWARE AND CLOTH NAPKINS! Yes, we have eaten “out” in the outdoors several times this summer, but this was the first place so far to not use paper products and plastic cups. I cannot tell you how absolutely NORMAL that felt! Oh, how I missed those simple pleasures!

And yes, all the tables were spread out, and all the staff members were wearing masks. We were outdoors, in a gentle breeze, and we felt quite safe.

As we ate, the dark clouds started gathering above the mountains, and soon we heard rumbles of thunder. The rain started to pelt the canopy, but we just laughed and refilled our glasses.

But, this is 2020, right? Something had to go wrong. Just as we finished dessert, the storm was directly over us. The winds started to knock down the smaller tents on the property, and the rain started coming in sideways under our canopy. All the guests were shooed indoors to wait it out. But I was still smiling–our lunch had been glorious, and I will never forget it.

Today’s “cocktail” was quick to make, and includes some of my favorite flavors, colors, and textures.

I simply poured a shot of mocha-cream liqueur and topped it with whipped cream and sprinkles. Looks festive, and tastes great alongside cake.

Thursday, July 16, 2020

• 

Today hasn’t been a great day. I am worried about a few people I love, I have been short-tempered with other people I love, and I am frustrated with this pandemic in general.

But at least I am comfortable here at home. Sure, I still shower every day, but I have stopped doing other things.

I have stopped wearing make-up, because whenever we go outside I am wearing sunglasses and a mask.

I have stopped wearing earrings, because they get caught in the elastic of my mask.

I have stopped wearing rings and bracelets, because they only get in the way of a thorough hand-washing.

I have stopped caring about the color of my hair, because it’s usually pulled back in the heat of the summer.

And, yes, I have stopped wearing a bra, on most days, because, well, why bother if I am just hanging out at the house?

Too Much Information, maybe, but the ladies out there know what I mean.

Today I made myself a shooter, since it hasn’t been a great day, like I said. The actual recipe for the Bra Buster Shooter calls for an entire tablespoon of Tabasco sauce, and I refuse to torture myself that way, so my version is calmer and gentler.

In a large shot glass, combine 1 ounce vodka, 1/2 ounce triple sec, and a dash of Tabasco. Stir and shoot it down as fast as possible. (I find the tingle and warmth to be comforting, actually.)

• 

Throwback to July 2012

1. The chefs from the Greenbrier Hotel in WV make some mean fried green tomatoes.

2. Everyone in the car enjoys the music on the JB channel. No, silly people, not Justin Bieber, I mean Jimmy Buffet!

3. Customers at gas stations in eastern Kentucky will stare at you if you roll down the car windows and blast Skrillex from your radio.

4. Indiana lawyers have the BEST names! From a billboard: Craig, Kelley, and Faultless injury attorneys. And the name of my in-laws’ attorney from a few years ago: Larry Lawhead. Seriously, you can’t make this stuff up!

5. Basketball is serious business in Indiana. Even for freshman girls. Even for summer league, which doesn’t count for anything really. Don’t mess with the parents.

6. Vienna is the only acceptable hot dog. Ketchup is never an acceptable condiment on previously mentioned hot dog. And the brighter green the relish, the better.

• 

Wednesday, July 15, 2020

After almost a year of living in different states, Oldest Son and the number-one-woman in his life are now both residents of Nashville, Tennessee. (I like to think that I am number-two-woman and I am OK with that.) These talented and hard-working young people had spent the majority of the quarantine (so far) apart and alone in their homes with their respective cats. I worried about how each was coping, but now I am relieved.

We haven’t seen Son in person since February, and we don’t plan on visiting him until the pandemic is under control. And we have yet to meet number-one-woman in person, but we are getting to know her from Zoom calls and social media interactions. I am so grateful that she is there to take care of Son. (Yesterday was her birthday! So raise your glasses in a toast to her! Happy Birthday!)

Husband and I have never visited Nashville, so we are looking forward, eventually, to exploring this flourishing city. Plus I hear that the food-and-beverage scene there is pretty great. And oh, yeah, isn’t the city famous for its music, too?

I wanted today’s drink to showcase both summer and southern flavors, in honor of our two Tennesseans. This is my version of a Bourbon Peach Smash.

Cut up a half a large peach into cubes. Place in a shaker with 4-5 leaves of mint, and muddle together. Add 1 1/2 ounces whiskey (Tennessee makes some fine ones!) and 1 ounce simple syrup. Stir, pour into glass, and add 2 ounces ginger beer. Top with ice and stir again.