Just when you thought you'd heard it all ...

The venerable Peter Yarrow, one-third of the iconic folksinging trio Peter, Paul and Mary, apparently has recorded an ode to his colon entitled “The Colonoscopy Song.” Here he is, courtesy of YouTube. Incidentally, this is definitely not as good as “Puff the Magic Dragon” and I seriously hope Yarrow isn’t holding his breath for a top 10 hit or a Grammy.

Sweet thoughts for a Tuesday.

Raise your hand if you think this is the most adorable little animal you’ve ever seen! Meet Einstein, a six-pound baby pinto stallion born last week on a horse farm in Barnstead, New Hampshire. Breeder Judy Smith says Einstein isn’t afflicted with any form of dwarfism like most miniature horses ... he’s just really teeny. AND REALLY CUTE. However, it’s not likely that anybody will be riding Einstein in the near future because even a toddler would probably kill him.

In other news, yesterday I got a killer craving for CANDY (it happens; I’m diabetic) so I visited a swell website called DiabeticFriendly.com and spent $60 on sugar-free Swedish fish, fruit slices and gummi bears. I realize $60 sounds like an awful lot of candy, but keep in mind ... sugar-free products are pretty expensive to start with, plus you get free shipping if you spend $59.99 or more. So that’s why I did it. Bottom line: sometimes a girl just needs three pounds of Swedish fish. (Sue me.)

Happy Morse Code Day. I’d be willing to bet this is one holiday that Hallmark forgot. Thank you for reading this.

Sometimes I just get lazy.

I am without excuse. I know I was supposed to post last week’s lab results, but I don’t want to drive anybody crazy with all this medical hoo-hah ... and I also get lazy sometimes and just don’t feel like writing ANYTHING. In any event, I do have some test results to share if you’re interested. Apparently all I need is a daily iron tablet plus a prescription vitamin D supplement twice a week. My thyroid (and everything else) is just fine. And I’m also pleased to report that my new blood pressure and diabetes meds are working out well with NO SIDE EFFECTS (so far), which is a mighty pleasant change after two years of misery.

Sam and I had a really enjoyable weekend that included several good naps, eating leftovers, sitting on our patio, watching “Sunset Boulevard,” lunch at Saltgrass Steakhouse on Saturday and Pei Wei on Sunday and hanging new wall art in the kitchen. Sam also spent a couple of hours volunteering at Baylor University Medical Center and I added some new features to my Ovation Creative website.

Both of us are always thankful for the nice quiet life we have here. This is a delicious luxury and we never take it for granted. Shalom, y’all.

Waiting for UPS.

I’ve always liked Thursdays, but today promises to be better than most. I’m expecting a ton of UPS deliveries this afternoon, probably within the next hour or so, and I’m so excited I might actually sit in the living room and stare out the window to watch for the truck! Today’s haul will include our new SUMMER QUILT SET and a set of KING-SIZE BED LINENS from Overstock.com, three big BEDDING STORAGE BAGS from Wal-Mart, eight cartons of CLIF BARS from Healthy-Stand.com and a new ivory eyelet ELASTIC BED RUFFLE from BedBathStore.com (details follow). This is so cool I might hyperventilate!

About this incredible new bed ruffle ... it’s only $24.99 and you don’t have to lift your mattress, it just slides over the top like a gigantic skirt with an elastic waist! I’m not even planning to remove the ruffle that’s currently on my bed (for which Sam will be eternally grateful); the new one will sit on top of it. Our bed weighs ten tons, and moving the mattress requires the strength of Godzilla and a few of his best friends. Just mention the words “dust ruffle” in my house and poor Sam has a sour face for three days. (I suspect this has something to do with an experience involving his ex-wife, so I just keep my mouth shut.)

Incidentally, the Howdygram would like to wish all of you a very happy Earth Day. I vote we do something wonderful for our planet and ship the Palin family to Mars. Thank you for reading this.

Good news for a Wednesday morning.

Remember when I promised to post some news after my follow-up doctor appointment yesterday? Well, I lied. Everything took way longer than I expected because the office was surprisingly busy and then my stupid vein kept shutting down when the phlebotomist tried to draw six tubes of blood. I was so happy to finally get the hell out of there I didn’t want to think about doctors or drugs or needles for the rest of the day.

In any event, the appointment went well, and I’m pleased to report that I’m not dying of an exotic blood disorder. As soon Dr. Meyrat receives this latest round of lab results she’ll prescribe whatever I need. Apparently what’s causing all this are very low iron and vitamin D levels, a paralyzed thyroid gland (my interpretation) and low hemoglobin and hematocrit ... even though I’ve been assured that I’m NOT suffering from cirrhosis of the liver or sickle cell anemia. Believe it or not, I actually feel quite healthy right now. And a week ago Dr. Meyrat adjusted some of my maintenance meds (discontinued two and started two new ones) and a whole list of annoying long-term side effects disappeared almost overnight. Once I start taking thryoid medication I’ll feel even BETTER.

In other news, does anybody ever watch “Millionaire Matchmaker” on Bravo? What an idiotic reality show. For those of you who’ve never seen it, Patti owns an L.A.-based matchmaker service for millionaires who can’t find love ... most of them men with abundant personality and grooming issues. Eventually Patti hosts a cocktail reception to introduce each client to a roomful of potential “matches,” which consists of a crowd of eager twentysomethings dressed up like the Real Housewives of Orange County ... usually platinum blondes with spray tans and silicone implants. Every show also includes a scene with Patti in a rage when a client typically picks a bimbo instead of a woman of quality. My thought is, how can he tell the difference? THEY ALL LOOK LIKE CALL GIRLS.

Thank you for reading this.

Weather and storage solutions.

Twenty years ago a TV channel devoted to weather was a very clever idea ... except now we all have computers, iPads and mobile phones and don’t have to sit in front of the television for 45 minutes waiting for the next local forecast. So what’s a weather network to do now that we’ve settled into the second decade of the 21st century? Maybe they could they think about covering HARD NEWS beyond the immediate scope of a natural disaster (even though it’s fun to toss a reporter into a category four hurricane) or try investigative reports on FEMA or volcanic ash or global warming. However, if you’re totally clueless like The Weather Channel, why not just show LAME HOLLYWOOD MOVIES ABOUT WEATHER.

I’m not joking. I turned to The Weather Channel night before last to find out how a local storm was progressing here in Dallas and all I got was Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. Quite honestly, if they’re so damn desperate for alternate programming maybe they could take some stock footage of a disaster and add their own dialog and sound effects, like Woody Allen’s What’s Up Tiger Lily.

In case you’re not sure what this is, it’s a gigantic COMFORTER BAG for storing off-season bedding. Sam and I have huge closets here, but none of our shelves are deep enough for king-size comforters and blankets. So with our new summer quilt set on the way from Overstock.com I decided to research storage options for our winter bedding and found these terrific handled totes on Wal-Mart’s website. They’re 25" square and a foot deep, and according to a bunch of customer reviews (I love reading customer reviews!) they’ll hold a king-size comforter with room to spare. I bought three totes at $9.88 each. I’ll store them in a nice neat row on the floor of our walk-in closet.

As much as I’m enjoying this post, I think I’ll go to bed now. Sam hit the sack three hours ago and actually slept most of the day on Saturday. He said he was just exhausted from a crazy week at work, which is certainly true, but he also hasn’t been feeling very well because he’s sucking on lozenges and carrying tissues. He pretends he’s okay, but he can’t fool ME. I’m a genius.

Springtime in Texas.

I’m up early today for no apparent reason. The sky is dark and overcast, I don’t have anywhere to go, I’m not particularly hungry right now and Sam is still in bed and asleep. I’d love to tell you I’m sitting at my desk listening to the spring rain against my window, but I’ve been too hard of hearing for that kind of thing for at least ten years. The only reason I know it’s raining is because I looked outside.

To celebrate the season I’ve decided to splurge on a new quilt set for the master bedroom because our gigantic winter-weight comforter has been getting on my nerves. Overstock.com (my #1 favorite place to shop) has so many fantastic quilts that it’s almost impossible to make a decision, but here’s the set I finally ordered this morning:

Is this great, or what? It’s a king-size quilt with two king pillow shams for 60% off retail, and I also ordered a set of ivory king-size wrinkle-free sateen stripe sheets on sale for only $39.99. Personally, I think bedding is the best reason to shop on Overstock.com. The prices, especially for high thread-count sheets, are INCREDIBLE, plus there’s NO SALES TAX and shipping is just $1 for any size order. Seriously ... even if you buy a sofa, a barbecue grill, a set of pots and pans and ten bowling balls, shipping is still a buck!

In other shopping news, here are three new products I tried this week from Schwan’s:

I’m always on the market for nice snacky things for Sam, but nothing here is exciting enough to write home about, to tell you the truth. The Buffalo chicken egg rolls are okay but definitely not spicy enough, the cheesesteak pouches are stuffed with underseasoned and generally unrecognizable goo, and those fetal chicken tacos are so small you can eat them without chewing. No kidding, they’re maybe an inch long. Who the hell needs MINIATURE FOOD?

Thank you for reading this.

Medical puzzles and a special 80th birthday.

Before I get off on one of my expected tangents, I went to the doctor yesterday and want to take a minute to share a late-breaking medical update. My lab test results are in. The good news is, my blood glucose, cholesterol, trigycerides, kidneys and liver are all excellent, which is a huge relief when you’re diabetic. Unfortunately, I also learned that I’m “severely anemic” (almost to the point of needing a BLOOD TRANSFUSION), my thryoid gland isn’t functioning and my iron level is extremely low. I have to go back to the doctor next week for additional tests so we can figure out what to do next. Let me add that I looked up all of these conditions on WebMD.com and honestly don’t think I’ve got any of the symptoms except for fatigue. For instance, other common indicators of anemia can include difficulty concentrating, dizziness, pale skin, leg cramps, dementia, hallucinations, and hunger for strange substances such as paper, ice, or dirt (I’m not joking about this). As far as I know, I haven’t exhibited any signs of advanced lunacy or cravings for cardstock kebabs. I’ll post again after my next doctor appointment and let y’all know what’s happening.

Incidentally, this morning for the very first time I experienced hypoglycemia (low blood sugar) ... probably because I accidentally took an extra dose of diabetes medication yesterday. It started at 3 a.m. when I woke up disoriented in a clammy sweat with heart palpatations, so I lurched into the kitchen and shoveled a bunch of raisins into my mouth. This happened two more times through early afternoon with increasing intensity but finally subsided. Low blood sugar is a scary thing. Sam was so freaked out he offered to stay home from work, but I convinced him that I had plenty of emergency raisins on hand and just wanted to lie down and take a nap. Nobody has to stay home from work to watch me do THAT.

In other news, Hostess Twinkies are celebrating their 80th birthday today. Twinkies were invented in 1930 in Chicago by Hostess’ bakery manager James Dewar; Margaret Branco, the original “Twinkie stuffer,” filled each cake individually using a foot-pedal operated machine. It’s common knowledge that today’s Hostess Twinkies bear no resemblance to the original creation, as they’re currently made of rubberized polyester filled with whipped caulk. We recommend that you eat a Clif bar instead. Thank you for reading this.

You know you live in a hick town when ...

... the 32-year-old candidate for Mesquite’s city council sends a letter of introduction to every resident outlining his qualifications for the post: a high school diploma, two years of college and a steady job at Ace Hardware. With a background like that he could even be elected governor of Alaska!

In other local news ... they’re blowing up Texas Stadium at 7 a.m. tomorrow, and for the bargain price of $25 you can still find space to park in the stadium’s lot and watch the former home of the Dallas Cowboys implode. Apparently this is one crowd that loves any excuse to party. There’s a huge tented viewing area, bleachers, catering and VIP shuttle buses running from the Four Seasons Hotel ... but those tickets have been sold out for months. Personally, I’d rather spend my money on a nice brunch at Blue Mesa than drive to Irving, Texas at 7 a.m. and choke on stadium debris, but what the heck. I’m funny that way.

Thank you for reading this. Seriously.

This is almost like being drunk.

I once read an article that said severe fatigue will make you behave like you’re intoxicated. Know what? I’m here to tell you that’s pretty damn accurate. I haven’t slept in almost 24 hours and anybody who walked into my house right about now would think I just polished off a bottle of Bailey’s Irish Cream. If I can get a few neurons to function I’ll tell you how I got into this mess.

Sam worked a lot of hours yesterday. His normal schedule is 2 to 10 p.m., but he was really busy last night at the office with a lot of client hoo-hah and didn’t actually get home until 5 this morning. I don’t sleep when Sam works that late because I keep opening one eye to look at the clock, so I’m in bed but wide awake when he walks in at 5 a.m. And then I can’t get comfortable because my carpal tunnel hand is killing me, so I decide to get up for a while. I go to the bathroom. There’s a giant mosquito thing flying around so I yell for Sam to come kill it for me.

I take some pain medication for my hand and sit at the computer reading my favorite news websites. Then I decide I’m hungry and end up in the kitchen eating American cheese. At 7:15 I finally decide to try going back to bed. This works for about an hour ... until someone rings the front doorbell three times and starts pounding on the door. In a stupor Sam and I both get up and discover it’s FedEx delivering my replacement Epson printer (see yesterday’s post). Swell. Sam signs for the package and goes straight back to bed; I’m wide awake again and end up in the family room watching a creepy British movie from 1933 called “Cavalcade.” I’m so tired I’ve got double vision but my hand still hurts and I can’t fall asleep.

I won’t bore you with too many additional details at this point except to tell you it’s now 4:45 in the afternoon, Sam went back to work two hours ago, and I still haven’t had 10 minutes of sleep. As soon as I finish this post it’s my plan to make some popcorn and lie down on the couch. Either that or I’ll try out for the female lead in “Night of the Living Dead.” Thank you for reading this.

Epson is definitely a class act.

Just a quick update to part of my last post. I called Epson’s toll-free customer service hotline this morning about my non-functioning Artisan 700 inkjet printer ... and my experience was exceptionally fabulous. The service rep confirmed that I had registered my printer online when I bought it, it’s still under warranty, and THEY’RE SENDING ME A BRAND NEW REPLACEMENT PRINTER TODAY for overnight delivery. All I have to do is ship back the broken printer at no cost to me. I can stop hunting for the receipt and I won’t have to shlep the printer to Fry’s for repairs.

Go buy yourself an Epson product. Seriously, this company is a class act.

Crap happens when you least expect it.

First, a quick medical report. MY RIGHT HAND IS KILLING ME. To be honest with you, I always believed carpal tunnel syndrome was a bogus health issue invented by people who manufactured ergonomic mouse pads and wrist braces. Never in a million years did I ever think this was a genuine physical condition that involved real pain. Boy, was I ever WRONG. I’ve been through a lot of crap in my life, like major surgeries, uterine cancer, endometriosis, plantar fasciitis, arthritis and four decades of increasingly serious dental emergencies, and the pain of carpal tunnel syndrome ranks right up there with the worst of it. I CAN’T USE MY RIGHT HAND, which means I also can’t grip the steering wheel in my car, push a shopping cart, lift a fork or spoon, blow-dry or brush my hair, type, move my mouse, hold a pen or hook my bra. I wear a wrist brace 24/7 except when I’m in the shower and try to do some dinky flexibility exercises two or three times a day. The exercises don’t seem to be working. NOTHING seems to be working. I see the doctor again on April 13, so stay tuned.

In other news, my Epson inkjet printer is broken. On Thursday I started getting an error message saying the paper tray is inserted incorrectly, but I know that’s crap because there’s only one way to insert the stupid tray and it doesn’t exactly take a brain surgeon to figure it out. So nothing is printing. This is really a shame for two key reasons: 1) the printer is less than a year old; and 2) it’s still under warranty but WE CAN’T FIND THE RECEIPT FROM FRY’S. Sam and I tore the place apart this morning with no luck. And I’d be willing to bet that repairs would cost more than a new printer. I’m calling Epson’s customer support center on Monday to find out if they have my warranty on file. PLEASE CROSS YOUR TOES AND FINGERS.

Tiger Woods returns to the PGA Tour next week. Let’s hear a gigantic YAY ... all together now! Tiger is playing in the Masters Tournament at Augusta National and the first round starts on April 8. Golf hasn’t been the same without him, and I will be glued to my TV. Anybody who’s interested in watching with me should send an email to reserve a spot on the sofa. Refreshments will be served, but I don’t have any cookies in the house so if you want some please BYO. Thank you.

Me and my big mouth, part 2.

I promised you an update, so here it is. The good news is, I took one Vicodin right after publishing my post this afternoon and did NOT end up feeling dizzy, whacked-out or nauseated. Basically I just stared into space and eventually dozed off writing an email, and when I finally snapped back to reality I’d been typing nothing but f’s for quite a long time. The bad news is, my right hand is still a total mess. My thumb and two fingers are completely NUMB, there’s a sharp pain across the palm of my hand that feels like a sprain, I can’t grip anything, and whenever I lie down my hand, wrist and forearm feel like they’re ON FIRE. So although Vicodin may be mildly entertaining as a recreational drug, it’s not doing squat to help my carpal tunnel problem. And I already know I won’t be able to sleep in bed again tonight. I’m not happy about this. Thank you for putting up with me.

Me and my big mouth.

Within the last 48 hours I announced to everybody on earth that I was finally pain-free. My heels stopped hurting, my knees didn’t ache, my carpal tunnel symptoms had subsided and I was feeling terrific at last. And then wham ... without any warning, last night I spent ALL NIGHT trying to sleep but couldn’t get comfortable. It was the carpal tunnel problem again in my right hand and arm ... numbness, burning and radiating pain especially when I laid down. Plus just before we went to bed Sam and I watched that grisly Mafia flick “Donnie Brasco” and I kept having visions of these guys chopping each other up with saws and butcher knives. So the bottom line is, I’ve had zero sleep and can’t even take a nap. To show you how bad it is, I’m almost on the verge of taking VICODIN. My doctor prescribed it for pain three weeks ago but I never opened the bottle because the last time I took this stuff was 18 years ago for an abcessed tooth and it made me so dizzy, whacked-out and nauseated I wanted to strangle my dentist. Today I feel crappy enough not to care. I JUST WANT TO SLEEP. Stay tuned for an update.

Make enough to share with someone you love.

Thirsty? Here’s my all-time favorite recipe for a summer shake that’s absolutely delicious ... and best of all it’s also FAT-FREE, SUGAR-FREE and LOW-CALORIE. I probably don’t have to set this up in a typical recipe format with a list of ingredients and a paragraph of instructions because it also happens to be so easy it’s a no-brainer, but what the heck ... I’ll be consistent and do it anyway. Here goes.

• 2 cups nonfat milk or vanilla Soy Slender soy milk
• ½ teaspoon vanilla extract
• 1 to 1½ cups frozen fruit
• 8 to 10 packets of Equal

Plop everything into your blender and whip it up! Incidentally, Sam and I always use a frozen fruit medley of peaches, mango, pineapple and strawberries, but you can go ahead and use whatever you want ... just as long as it’s FROZEN. (That’s what makes the shake thick and fluffy.)

You should try this alongside a plate of Marcy’s Fabulous Un-Fried Fries with ketchup and pretend you’re 16 years old. Thank you for reading this and bon appetit, y’all.

What do your memories sound like?

Studies show that certain scents and fragrances can evoke explicit memories. I guess that’s true ... the smell of a great pizza always makes me want Alberti’s from downtown Skokie ... 50 years ago. But for me, my favorite memories spring from SOUNDS more than scents, and I’ve definitely got a couple of favorites.

Let’s hear it for the boys of summer. No, not the Chicago Cubs ... I’m talking about LANDSCAPERS. I’m crazy about the sound of lawn mowers! It takes me back to my childhood, summer afternoons, no school, happy weather, playing outside on fresh-cut grass. Our landscaping crew showed up yesterday morning for the first time since last October, and I always want more when they finish in less than 20 minutes. Maybe someone can burn a CD of mowing noises for me.

The plane truth. I absolutely LOVE the sound of a small propeller airplane. I’m transported back in time to 1955, being four years old at Greenleaf Beach in Chicago, playing in the sand on a hot summer day with mom and Robin, eating a vanilla Dixie Cup with the goofy wooden spatula/spoon that came glued to the lid ... and if you squinted up at the sun there was always a little plane overhead dragging a banner advertisement back and forth. To this day, any time I hear a small plane I can smell the water and suntan lotion. It’s hypnotic. It’s even better than lawn mowers.

Somebody send me a pizza from Alberti’s and life will be complete. Thank you for reading this.

A day-long shopping marathon retrospective.

It all started with Target. Wednesday was a VERY GOOD DAY for shopping. It began first thing in the morning when all of a sudden I realized I could spend Sam’s $100 Target gift card (which he got for Christmas from a salesman at work) online and not actually have to go to the store. So I visited Target.com and blew it all on a bunch of great stuff that includes an Oxo can opener, Calphalon baking sheets, a Kitchen Aid food chopper, new measuring spoons, Olay Regenerist face cream and a couple of DVDs — Gigi and The Great Ziegfeld.

And if this wasn’t enough to make a person hyperventilate from excitement, immediately after spending Sam’s Target gift card he casually mentions that he’s been having trouble finding Clif bars in our local supermarkets. I think the basic problem is that Texans just don’t give a crap about anything that’s not deep-fried, and since we don’t have Trader Joe’s here and don’t live anywhere near a Whole Foods Market it’s really hard to find products that we used to buy all the time in California. So I searched online and found Healthy-Stand.com, where they sell discounted Clif Bars in boxes of 12 with no tax and cheap shipping. I bought four boxes in Sam’s favorite flavors. At this point we were VERY close to being delirious.

Every house should smell as good as mine. I also ordered some electric home fragrance refills on sale at YankeeCandle.com for those little hot oil doo-dads that you plug into an outlet. My all-time favorite scent is Midnight Jasmine and I’ve got one in every room except the kitchen. (I think a kitchen should smell more like roast chicken.)

And last but not least ... Rounding out my shopping marathon was an afternoon excursion to our local Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market. This was a VERY BIG DEAL for me, guys, because I’m finally pain-free and feeling healthy again! Today was my first solo outing since the first of the year, and I EVEN DROVE MY OWN CAR. I bought all kinds of fun things like volumizing hair mousse, sugar-free chocolate, two kinds of cheese, toilet paper, bagels, a couple of extremely expensive tomatoes and two-liter bottles of Coke Zero on sale for 75¢.

Thursday, God willing, I’m heading to Costco. Be still my heart.

This is never a good idea when you're hungry.

See what happens when there’s nothing good on Turner Classic Movies? They’re celebrating director Akira Kurosawa’s 100th birthday with a restrospective and a never-ending string of his subtitled Japanese movies, so I’m forced to surf channels and end up at HSN watching a two-hour food special. Word of warning ... NEVER DO THIS BEFORE YOU EAT LUNCH. Three products got me so hysterically excited that 15 minutes later I’m sitting at my computer logged onto HSN.com, frantically trying to add them all to my shopping cart because — as everybody knows — SUPPLIES ARE LIMITED!

So the voices in my head tell me I want EVERYTHING, and I want it NOW. I mean, look at those gorgeous teeny SHRIMP CAKES, all made by Emeril IN HIS OWN KITCHEN with his OWN CELEBRITY HANDS and delivered right to your front door IN HIS OWN CAR! And look at those SPRING ROLLS ... 30 of them in three different GOURMET FLAVORS with enormous chunks of GENUINE VIETNAMESE MYSTERY FOOD inside! And that Bilinsky SIX-POUND HAM ... holy cow, it’s the LEANEST HAM ON EARTH with ZERO FAT and actually tastes like CHAMPAGNE instead of processed over-salted pork injected with preservatives! This would be PERFECT FOR EASTER DINNER ... never mind that Sam and I are Jewish and have never eaten a baked ham in our entire lives!

And then Smart Marcy grabs the reigns from Hungry Marcy, and I take a closer look at the evidence. All three products actually have some mighty lousy customer reviews, not to mention how over-priced they are. Nobody especially liked Emeril’s shrimp cakes, the spring rolls are ordinary and don’t come with sauce, and the ham is so expensive it’s sold with FOUR MONTHLY PAYMENTS, which means a person would be making installments on their Easter pig until Labor Day.

Bottom line: I decided that a few subtitled Japanese movies wouldn’t kill me after all. Sayonara, y’all, and thank you for reading this.

Welcome to spring.

Sam and I seem to be on different sleeping schedules today. He got up at 5:30 this morning to monitor the weather (it’s SNOWING) and I stayed in bed; he crawled back in at 8:15 just as I was waking up. Now I’m sitting here writing a post and he’s sound asleep. This is no huge deal, however, because as soon as I’m done I plan to head into the kitchen to reheat some Chinese food for breakfast.

Hey ... don’t make that face. Being an adult means I CAN EAT ANYTHING I WANT, WHENEVER I WANT IT. And Chinese food is a whole lot more fun in the morning than Rice Chex or a couple of Pop Tarts.

And now let’s talk about snow for a minute. Dallas has turned into a winter wonderland again with two inches of wet, blowing snow stuck to EVERYTHING. And it’s so damn windy we’ve even got snow glued to the window screens. The temperature as I write this is 31° ... and it’s still snowing. The yellow asterisk on the map shows our location here in Mesquite. The blue weather system is heading straight down from the north.

Somebody please send Sam a shovel so he can clear the driveway when he wakes up. The fastest way would be just to attach one to an email. Thank you.

You know it's going to be a great day when ...

... at 9:15 in the morning Sam announces that he doesn’t feel motivated to do anything except spend the day in bed. Know what? I LIKE THIS MAN’S THINKING. It’s dark, dismal and wet outside with a winter storm on the way later this afternoon. Weather.com is actually talking about a 30-degree temperature drop with a chance of snow overnight. Snow in March? That might be normal for Chicago, but it’s definitely not normal HERE. The average daytime temperature in Dallas at this time of year is supposed to be 75°. So spending the day in bed — with the exception of meals and an occasional trip to the can — sounds like a totally swell idea. Sam’s got my vote.

On another subject altogether, I need a show of hands. Has anybody noticed that toilet paper is shrinking? There’s a roll of Charmin in my guest bathroom right now that’s literally rattling around on the dispenser! So the Howdygram’s official investigative reporter (yours truly) did a little hunting online and uncovered a national conspiracy: during the past year, ALL THE MAJOR TOILET PAPER MANUFACTURERS HAVE COLLUDED TO DOWNSIZE THE WIDTH OF THEIR ROLLS from 4½ to 4 inches. What a sneaky, underhanded thing to do! Nobody lowered the PRICE, mind you ... they just took away half an inch of valuable toilet paper real estate without so much as a how’s-your-mama or have-a-nice-day.

I, for one, am NOT happy about this, and if I can figure out who to complain to I’ll let you know. For now, however, Sam and I are going back to bed. Thank you.

Soggy peas and other non-news.

This is my first post since Sunday, and I apologize for that. Bottom line: sometimes I’m distracted or just can’t think of anything to say. However, my blog statistics indicate that a bunch of you visit every single day to see if there’s a new post, so if my negligence has been responsible for your depression, kleptomania, sex addiction and/or antisocial behavior please consider this my solemn promise to do better from now on. Seriously.

Schwan’s delivered my second frozen food order a couple of days ago. This time I stocked up on some interesting new products, which are pictured below for your possible interest:

So far everything is terrific, although I’m definitely disappointed with the sugar snap peas. If you follow the package directions to heat them in the microwave they get so soggy there’s no snap left at all. Maybe I’ll just defrost them and eat the silly things raw. Stay tuned for the next chapter.

There’s a light at the end of the (carpal) tunnel. I’ve got a brief health update to share ...just in case you’re not totally bored to death with this subject by now. As of today I’m doing really well. My plantar fasciitis has improved dramatically, the miserable issue with my right heel that sent me to the podiatrist for minor surgery on March 2 has healed up about 90%, and I have ZERO PAIN from my carpal tunnel syndrome ... although one finger still falls asleep occasionally. I can live with that. And I bought myself another Futuro wrist brace ... this time a snazzy black one that’s described as “energizing.” To my amazement, it lives up to the hype. As soon as I put it on I want to change the sheets, whip up an omelet, empty the dishwasher and vacuum the family room. You should try it for yourself or buy a few for birthday presents. Shop here.

I think I’d better go back to bed now. Sam is taking me to the supermarket this morning, and that’s a VERY big deal for me because I haven’t been to a grocery store since the first of the year. (Don’t ask.) Thank you for reading this.

Daylight savings time and insomnia.

I can’t sleep. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate, because I haven’t TRIED to sleep. For the last few hours I’ve been in one of my entrepreneurial/creative modes, getting all involved with website updates, posting to my Ovation Creative blog and writing a new email campaign. Then all of a sudden I look at the little clock in the upper right-hand corner of my computer monitor and it’s almost 4 a.m. HOLY CRAP. The whole night is shot already, and tonight’s time change hoo-hah makes it even WORSE. It’s not supposed to be this late.

Before I forget, here’s an urgent update for your possible interest: my right hand is on the mend! This is extremely encouraging, because I seriously NEVER expected to feel so much better after only 48 hours! My carpal tunnel treatment includes some goofy little wrist exercises, Chinese food (my own idea), a six-day steroid regimen and a firm wrist support brace with a steel beam and tons of impressive velcro straps. All of this is fine, although quite honestly the steroid thing is freaking me out a little because I’m diabetic and steroids can really screw around with your blood sugar. So I have to keep close watch on my glucose levels for the next few days and stop the pills if I hit a certain number. And course I also check the mirror every couple of hours to see if I’m turning into Barry Bonds. So far so good, although yesterday afternoon I developed an uncontrollable urge to yell at people and play left field.

Incidentally, your dentist quit.

Since the first of the year there’s been a tsunami of dental weirdness in the Dallas metro area. First I get a form letter in the mail from mine, Dr. Jacob, announcing that she’s “following her dream” to dump a busy private practice and JOIN THE ARMY. Her news left me dumbfounded. Although I obviously don’t know if her practice had been suffering since the recession started — with fewer patients, past-due accounts or whatever — Dr. Jacob is about 40 years old with a husband and children, and she’s walking away from a nice suburban dental practice in Mesquite to drill military teeth in Afghanistan. At the end of her form letter Dr. Jacob mentions that since she didn’t have a partner she’s already transferred everybody’s records to Dr. Dill (another local dentist), and we should all feel free to call him next time we need dental care.

That’s an ironic twist, I thought. Sam is a patient of Dr. Dill’s and seems to like him. As a matter of fact, he was there just last week (a two-hour marathon appointment) to have two new crowns made.

Ah, but the plot thickens. A few minutes ago Sam called Dr. Dill’s office because one of his temporary crowns fell out, and the receptionist tells him, “You can come in at 11:30. Except Dr. Dill isn’t here any more so we’ll set you up with his replacement.” Sam asks, WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING? I JUST SAW HIM A WEEK AGO! And she says, “He resigned unexpectedly for personal reasons.”

Show of hands. Think Dr. Dill decided to drill military teeth in Afghanistan?

Mystery solved.

The good news is, I don’t have peripheral neuropathy, Raynaud’s Phenomenon, De Quervain’s Disease or multiple sclerosis. I’ve been diagnosed with CARPAL TUNNEL SYNDROME. Apparently I’ve got every classic symptom: my fingers go numb, I wake up at night with burning pain in my hand and arm, I have trouble gripping objects, and I’m generally crabby and anxious to strangle somebody. So my doctor prescribed a steroid to reduce the nerve inflammation and a strong painkiller (Vicodin) that I probably won’t take because it makes me feel like I’ve had a frontal lobotomy. I’m also wearing a steel wrist brace, need to buy an ergonomic mouse pad for my computer and have a list of stretching exercises to try.

Dr. Meyrat didn’t recommend Chinese food as a possible treatment for carpal tunnel syndrome, but since Sam won’t be able to pick up my prescriptions until he gets home from work at 10 p.m. I’ve decided to self-medicate in the meantime with Mu Shu Shrimp and Hot & Sour soup. Thank you, and pass the soy sauce.

Send cyanide.

A brief medical report. I’ve got a doctor appointment in the morning to figure out what’s wrong with my right hand. At least half a dozen times a day it alternates between numb fingers, an aching pain that radiates throughout my arm and a sensation that’s probably like violent electrocution. It gets especially unbearable whenever I type at my computer keyboard (like right now) or try to lie down, which explains why I haven’t written a post for the last few days or slept since Saturday. I’M EXHAUSTED. When Sam gets home from work in a few minutes we have to brainstorm about how to prop me up in the living room overnight. I’m thinking I can sit on the couch with my feet on the decorative bench dragged in from our entry foyer. With a gigantic cup of hot tea and all-night Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers movies scheduled on TCM, I’m sure I’ll be fine until morning. (At this point I’m willing to try damn near ANYTHING.) Stay tuned for an update after I see the doctor tomorrow. You can send cyanide in the meantime. Thank you for reading this.

Try this family favorite ... just in time for Passover.

Sam absolutely LOVES this omelet, and my dad always loved it, too. Over the years I embellished mom’s original recipe with one key ingredient: ONIONS. Enjoy!

• 6 jumbo eggs, beaten
• 6 sheets of matzo
• 1 large yellow onion, diced
• Salt and pepper to taste
• 1 tablespoon margarine
• 1 tablespoon olive oil

Break up the matzo into medium-sized pieces in a mixing bowl and cover with cold water to soak. Heat margarine and olive oil in a large skillet (mine is 14") and add the diced onions. Season with salt and pepper and cook until the onions start to brown. While the onions are doing their thing, squeeze as much water as possible from handfuls of the soaked matzo, add to the beaten eggs and mix together. Pour the matzo/egg batter into the skillet and stir slightly to incorporate the onions. Then flatten with a spatula, season with more salt and pepper and cover the pan. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook for several minutes until the bottom is lightly browned. To cook the other side, use your spatula to cut the omelet into fourths and turn each wedge separately.

If you halve the recipe to make an omelet for one, you can use a smaller pan and flip the whole omelet in one piece to cook the other side. This actually counts as a floor show if you sing a chorus of “Hava Nagila” at the same time.