“Put your finger in here” is not something you want anyone to say when you sit in a massage chair, but Nate took one for the team. There’s a fitness store next to the Total Wine shop at a strip mall nearby, which the Fixin’ Leaks and Leeks Team likes to call the Total Wine… Continue reading Frisky Business: Massage Chairs
Just a Hiccup
When a banana mascot slipped on its own peel and fell down the stairs during late-night TV, I did what any normal insomniac would do: I gripped the arms of the couch and laughed like it was happy hour at Applebee’s. But I couldn’t stop, and then came the hiccuping. The laughter was long gone.… Continue reading Just a Hiccup
No Forks Given
I’m done forking around. I need to find out…what it’s like to eat with chopsticks. It has taken me a long, long time, but I’m finally learning. And it’s not like no one has ever tried to show me before. Back in the ‘80s, when I was growing up, my dad went to Japan a… Continue reading No Forks Given
The Scoop on the New Cookie Scoop
How many scoops can a cookie scooper scoop when the spring-loaded scooper has sprung? None. Not one cooky cookie. I have broken two cookie scoops within months (days?) of one another, which makes Nate’s late-night cookie baking a bit of a crumble. Sure, I could let the batter return to room temperature rather than forcing… Continue reading The Scoop on the New Cookie Scoop
Cupid’s-in-a-Jam Valentine’s Day Cookies
Cupid’s arrow is stuck in a jar of jam. I guess that means I have to marry it, but sorry, jam, this gal’s taken. Not my jam. Or is it? An ancient Hershey’s cookbook (circa 1998) says jam is the moment. I’ve held onto this cookbook for years but have never made anything from it—until… Continue reading Cupid’s-in-a-Jam Valentine’s Day Cookies
Just a Super Bowl of Buckeyes
I know my way around a football field the way I know my way around TOI-3757 b (Marshmallow Planet). Not very familiar with either. And, if asked to throw a football during an impending attack by extraterrestrial, cleat-clad linebackers, I’d set the world back by a penalty of at least sixty-six yards. But I could… Continue reading Just a Super Bowl of Buckeyes
Murder in the Bedroom
A murderous mattress is trying to off me, so it can have my husband. I’m absolutely sure of this. To be fair, the old mattress was trying to kill both of us, so I guess this is an improvement. With a Princess-and-the-Pea-can-do attitude, Nate and I have almost blown through two mattresses in the past… Continue reading Murder in the Bedroom
Are You There, God? It’s Me, Hot Flash.
I feel for the pizza in the microwave. I, too, now know what it’s like to suddenly “cook” from the inside out. Like someone’s just yanked me from the freezer, shut me inside a tiny oven, and hit the “high power” button—and I had no say whatsoever. Oh, sure, I’ve heard it all before: “Watch… Continue reading Are You There, God? It’s Me, Hot Flash.
Craftshion Alert: Binder Clip Meets Towel
The craft alarm did not blare in the usual way. There was no need to alert neighbors or family about the dangers of ridiculously large scissors (which I can’t help but run around the house with), hot glue guns with exploding battery pack chargers, or machine-gun style staplers. Simply put, the presto-change-o feat I needed… Continue reading Craftshion Alert: Binder Clip Meets Towel
Water Aerobics, Because I Need Grouper Groupies
If a group of groupers wants to challenge me in an aqua-aerobics showdown in calm, shallow waters, I’m ready. My plan is to go from flipped and treaded to ripped and shredded in the aqua fitness class at the local Y. Sure, I’ve flirted with water aerobics classes before. Years ago, you may have read… Continue reading Water Aerobics, Because I Need Grouper Groupies
Fixin' Leaks and Leeks 