It’s been a minute – or a couple of weeks – so here’s a quick catch up on some of my fascinating adventures since the last post…

Draft Done + Newsletter News

I finished the rough draft of the upcoming Why You Can’t Slap Happy People (and How to Become One) book. Yay, me! It’s off with some lovely people for initial feedback before I finalize the first draft and get it off to an editor.

Going forward, I’ll have a newsletter with further updates plus excerpts, giveaways, promotions, free stuff, details about unlocking the inner happiness, and whatever other profound wisdom and fabulous nonsense I can come up with for subscribers only.

You can sign up for the newsletter with the link on the home page sidebar. It’s the big orange button.  You can also click this one right here:


P.S. I’ll be writing about the next step in the 5 Steps to Happiness, Deliberately Deciding, soon.

In other news…

The Leaning Chair

The wife bought a chair that she swore was tilting to the left (place your “that’s what she said” here.) I tried to confirm her suspicions. My butt apparently wasn’t as sensitive as hers and with my short legs dangling it was difficult to get a good feel for potential abnormality. Also, I think one of my cheeks is bigger than the other, which is what ended my chair testing career years before, so was absolutely unqualified for the task.

It got to the point where I had to retrieve a level from the garage and sure enough – it was crooked. The problem has since been rectified by taking the chair back to the store for an exchange. Everyone’s asses are happier for it.

© Lily Go via
© Lily Go via

The point of all this is that we have now added “Pea Finding Princess” to my wife’s list of titles that already included Spider (Bug) Killer I, Grapes Are Just Like Chocolate Promoter, and the primary Life is Good! Advocate.

Speaking of spiders…

The Spider That Wasn’t

My bedtime reading was interrupted last week by a rapid, soft knock on the door. I can tell which kid it is by the knock. The concept of “soft” for my lumberjack sized son sounds more like the door is about to cave in.

“There’s a bug in our bathroom,” he announced after I acknowledged his semi-frantic pounding.

“Is your sister asleep yet? Get her to do it.” My daughter is the family Carcass Removal Expert and designated Spider (Bug) Killer II.

“She’s sleeping. You need to hurry,” he continued urgently. “It’s a FLYER. And it’s huge. It looks like a GIANT FLYING SPIDER.”

My son inherited my fear of all things creepy crawly, or has me to blame, depending on your perspective. The fact that he’s such a large guy makes it comical to everyone except him. I sighed and gave my standard answer, “Get the vacuum.”

The giant flying spider was a regular sized mosquito. The mosquitoes we typically have are fruit fly sized and non-aggressive in an almost isn’t-that-cute sort of way. My desert born son thought this averaged sized one was a winged Charlotte circling his shower curtain. I really should’ve taken him camping more often when he was young.

I chased it down with the vacuum extension with only a couple of short “Aacks” and one slight squeal when it did a desperate dive for my head. It now lives with two cockroaches and a housefly. Our vacuum doubles as a mortuary for uninvited guests.

You’ve been warned…

Daughter’s High Functioning Continues

I’ll write more later about my daughter and her autism diagnosis when there’s actually something not dull to report. She’s mostly busy with her college studies and (still) making pancakes.

I did get her to eat a piece of chicken yesterday to which she bluntly concluded, “I still don’t like chicken.” I told her we should rename all foods she doesn’t like “protein” to make it simpler to keep track.

Here’s to hoping there’s a little protein in Halloween candy…

The.  End.

Hope everyone had a lovely Halloween! Also for the U.S. folks… let the annual holiday season officially commence. The container store where the deformed chair was purchased had Christmas music playing before Nov 1st. Cardboard ghosts and witches swayed from the ceiling to Here Comes Santa Claus.

It didn’t even seem abnormal at first. One of us, one of us….