Breathing Through A Straw

My sister, Rebecca, is a speech language pathologist. When she visited our mother, she was teaching her how to strengthen her lungs by breathing through a straw. It started out as a pretty serious exercise as you can see by the pictures below, but just wait until you get to the last one.

I'd like to see you look at someone while breathing through a straw a holding your nose and see how long you can keep a straight face!

(Did this make you smile, too?)

Hot Wheels

There we were, driving in the racing red PT Cruiser along 7 miles of highway toward home when all of a sudden, the car accelerated without pressing the pedal.

What the hey?

Michael was at the wheel, both feet on the brake, asking me what he should do while the car rushed down the highway.

What do I know about cars?

I asked if he thought he could make it home safely. He said if he kept stepping on the brake he could. I told him I thought we should get home before we turned the car off in case it wouldn't turn on again.

Oops.

We called Bob only after we reached town, after the smoke, the smell of burned rubber that would rival the turns at the Indie 500, after the flame in the wheel.

Rather than take a picture of the fire, I ran to the house in the background for water to put it out, but no one answered the door. So we used what was left in my water bottle to extinguish the flame. (See wet spot next to tire. It isn't pee.)

The next day, I drove the car with all its Batman regalia in for repairs (gliding through stop signs with my feet shoved against the brake, just managing not to crash into the building.) They removed the piece of plastic that had lodged against the accelerator.

They said there wasn't any other damage.

Excuse me? Didn't I explain the part about the FIRE?

Yes, ma'am, but Michael's amazing super hero car is in good working condition.

Who needs a Batmobile when you have a PT Cruiser?

A Dragon on my Head from LTUE!

LTUE stands for "Life, the Universe, and Everything,"

a funderful writing/art/textile conference, with fun and interesting things and people to see and do!

Here is Terra Luft, who in spite of the sparkly crown, doesn't write princess stories. Oh, no, she writes suspense with perhaps a trace of horror. The reason she wears the tiara while working is because it makes her feel so good that she writes better. (I must say, she looks pretty good in it, too!)

And here are half of my sons with J. Scott Savage's steampunk dragon introducing his brand new, exciting "Cove" series. L-R: Bron, Michael, Andy, the dragon, Shirley Bahlmann, and the one-and-only J. Scott Savage.

Why didn't I write down this guy's name? I thought I would remember it since both of his names started with the same letter. Hm. I don't recall it at the moment, but whoever he is, he said that he helped start the LTUE conference when he was a FRESHMAN at BYU! (I'm so glad he did.)

Here is my oldest son, Andy, participating on a panel. Not only did he have 4 panels and 1 solo presentation, but he made an impression on attendees with the news that he has a PhD in Super Heroes. (Really! He does! His dissertation was on Super Hero mythology.)

Here I am on my chocolate panel. Yep, the History of Chocolate. (It was delicious.)

I even had help putting out chocolate for the class members to share. (They wouldn't have come to a chocolate class if they didn't like it, would they?)

 I had this picture taken before all my boys assembled for the dragon shoot, where I'm dwarfed by my 6'3" 15-year-old, and the ever-manly Jeff Scott Savage.

And then there's the obligatory dragon head photo. A nice way to end the day.

Do you love writing conferences? (I'd love to live in a hotel with someone else cleaning up after me no matter what kind of conference was going on!) What kind of conference or presentation would you love to go to?

Accidental Haircut

Yes, my hair is shorter than it was three weeks ago. It was an accident. 

My hair was getting thin, so I started taking Biotin (thanks, Bev Anderson Cottle) and I got my hair layered so it would seem thicker (thank you, Alyssa Anderson Larsen!) Yet when I got home, the bottom layer felt too thin, like a mullet, so I begged a protesting Michael to please cut it shorter. He didn't want to, saying he'd mess it up. I cut guides on each side and asked him to please, please, please just cut the hair between the guides. One side was shorter. He worried, saying, "I told you I'd mess it up!" but I said, "No worries. Just make it even."
So he did.