I played Life—the board game—for the first time ever while down south visiting Firstborn and family. It wasn’t long before my nape early warning system went on high alert. The little hairs back there stood on end. If they were able to jump up and down, I believe they would have. I couldn’t put my finger on it at first, but my primal instincts were going bat guano crazy trying to tell me that something about that game wasn’t on the up and up. Continue reading »
While we were down south visiting First Born and family, Macho Guy and I updated our iPads and iPhones to iOS 9.0.2. FB is the family computer guru, so we felt safe updating in his presence in the event anything went wrong—especially with MG’s electronics because…Mr. Kiss of Death to Computers.
After the updates, FB showed us the new ins and outs of the update, including the new “Hey, Siri” feature that works when the iPhone is plugged in to a power source. FB enabled the “Hey, Siri” feature and had me talk my way through the setup so Siri would recognize my voice. Then he had me ask Siri a simple question: Where is the nearest Wal-Mart store? As I spoke, Siri printed my question on the iPhone’s screen. She told me where the nearest Wal-Mart was and also put up a list of additional nearby Wal-Marts on the screen. Then Siri politely asked if that was what I wanted. I was suitably impressed.
Not long ago, I posted about the Mother’s Day gifts of the growing kind that I received in May. [Houseplants Beware] In that post I shamelessly revealed my infamous reputation as a serial plant killer, and that no conscientious person should place a living, healthy plant in my care.
Despite foreknowledge of my herbicidal tendencies, Firstborn and family sent me a “Mom’s Garden” basket containing a variety of indoor plant life. His Little Brother and family sent me two outdoor hanging baskets containing colorful flowering plants. One would think that sons of mine would know better. Continue reading »
I wish you could see our tomato plants. You would not believe your eyes. They are enormous. They are gigantic. They are Jack and the Beanstalk colossal!
Oh, all right. I exaggerate, but not much. I took a photo of them to back up my claim.
Last summer, I wrote about a recent Camp Grandma with our younger son’s children. In that post, I touched briefly on an incident with their cousins from the original Camp Grandma. This time around, I’m telling all about it—the complete and unvarnished origins of Camp Grandma on the lake. Continue reading »
