If you’re around a kid, you realize how technologically gifted they are and how woefully behind you are.

When I want to do something complicated on my phone, I hand it over to my 9-year-old grandson. He’s handy with technology and isn’t afraid to tap buttons until he finds an answer.

If he can’t figure it out, the task passes to his oldest sister. She’s 16 and whizzes around the phone screen like a speed skater at the Olympics.

There’s a new product on the market now, the Rabbit A-1. According to the company, the Rabbit A-1 is the simplest computer and does everything without having to find an app on the phone screen. They claim you don’t need to learn how to use it. Just talk to the Rabbit A-1 and it learns as it goes.

That would be something new for moms of teenage boys.

On the Rabbit A-1, there’s no balancing apps and logins – ask for what you want and let the device delivers. No scrolling around, trying to remember where you stashed that grocery store app.

The Rabbit A-1 does it all with no buttons and is billed as a companion.

Let’s see – a companion that doesn’t talk back, does what you want immediately with no questions asked and never wants to borrow your car keys.

I could get used to that.

We rely so much on technology, but we’re slowly losing the ability to think for ourselves. Instead of Googling what’s the capitol of Arkansas, I need to rack my brain to come up with the answer.

It’s Little Rock, by the way, and I didn’t need to look that up. Okay, I did double check my answer online.

But there’s lots of facts and tasks I want to do without the aid of a computer. I’d like to think I could get some of the answers on “Jeopardy” without the help of an online search engine.

I hope I can still name all four of The Beatles, remember the distance in a marathon is still a little over 26 miles and George Washington was the first president of the United States.

My son often calls me for advice when their toddler is sick. My remedies include Vick’s Vapor Rub and a humidifier. Ginger ale and crackers are a go-to for getting through a stomach virus.

I can still read a paper map – and fold it back up – and I know how to put windshield wiper fluid in the tank. I don’t have to check YouTube for how to set a table properly because my grandmother taught me how to do that years ago.

Text messages are fine if you want to pass on a quick message, but nothing beats a person-to-person visit, or if distance is an issue, a phone call. I could get the grocery store to deliver a bag of sugar if I run out, but if I go across the street to my neighbor’s house, I get to visit with them while borrowing what I need.

Technology does make a lot of things simpler. A calculator is a godsend for people like me who are math-challenged. YouTube has saved me money and time when something breaks, although I miss calling my dad or Uncle Jim for advice.

We can’t stop the wheels of progress, but we can decide to observe from the sidelines instead of jumping on the fast track for every shiny new gadget that comes along.

I believe that’s the stand I’ll take.

Every time, I’ll take human companions over a computer and, occasionally, trust my instincts. Besides, I’d much rather talk to my neighbor over a cup of sugar than I would have an app order it from the store.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

I was ready. I washed the sweaters I’d been wearing since October, hand washed the scarves I wore to keep my neck warm and rolled up the knee socks in my drawer.

The weather was warmer, and I had my fingers crossed we were on a roll. Seventy-degree days were happening, and my feet were finally starting to defrost.

But Mother Nature is fickle, especially here in Texas. One day, it’s 70 degrees and blue skies. The next, it’s cold with gray skies and gale-force winds.

Back in February of 2021, we thought we were finished with the cold. Then the big freeze hit and we were without power or heat for days. So we can’t count out another freeze until at least the first part of March.

For some people, the cold is welcome. They love nothing more than when the outside temperature hovers below 20 degrees. They look forward to drinking hot tea, wearing flannel shirts and heavy fur-lined boots.

Not me.

I’m a hot-weather fan. When it’s cold, I have to wear long sleeves and long pants, both of which make me itch.

My skin dries out, and at night, I’m bundled up in pajamas and a robe. To make sure I don’t wake up freezing in the middle of the night, I also sleep under three blankets.

My husband has patiently explained that the temperature in the house is the same as it is in the summer. That logic does not matter to my cold hands, my runny nose and my freezing feet.

It’s cold.

I’m cold.

And I complain.

A lot.

I whine how unhappy I am when it’s winter. There’s no leaves on the trees, the grass is a bland shade of brown, and there’s no flowers blooming. The sky is usually gray and, more times than not this year, it’s raining.

I understand science, and I try to stay positive. We need the cold weather to allow plants to rejuvenate. The different seasons allow us to see things we don’t see when it’s a jungle outside.

I can see more birds in the trees because they’re not hidden by all the leaves. Our grass doesn’t need cutting every week because it’s not growing.

But to my cold-adverse heart, those are feeble excuses.

The only thing good about cold weather is that snakes hibernate. It could be I’ve got some reptilian blood because I totally understand why something would want to curl up under a rock when the wind’s howling and the temperatures are below 40 degrees.

In the summer, especially in the South, the colors are spectacular. The flowers show off their reds, crimsons and yellows. Leaves are deep green, and there’s plenty of them.

The food is colorful – spicy green guacamole, juicy, deep red watermelons and vegetables in every color of the rainbow. Pitchers of iced tea take their rightful place in the fridge.

Produce prices are low, and that section of the store is overflowing with healthy, colorful choices.

In the winter, we’ve got butternut squash and bananas. Both are yellow and, when cut open, are either pale yellow or white.

In the summer, we can barbecue in the back yard, wear flip flops every single day, eat Popsicles, ride bikes, skateboard, or walk.

No denying that we sweat a lot in the heat, but I’ve rationalized that irritant away. The excess humidity keeps our skin looking younger longer.

Fitting in outside chores requires getting up early or working after dinner. That’s okay because it’s light outside until almost 9 p.m. in the summer.

The washer and dryer have an easier time with T-shirts and shorts instead of heavy jeans and jackets.

In the summer, we’re not washing blankets and comforters – a plain sheet works just fine at night.

Those who love the cold can have it, including my share. I’ll keep my sweaty July, hotter-n-blazes August and even a blistering September.

Just let me wear my shorts again.

And let my feet finally warm up.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

They start calling to me the minute I walk into the grocery store.

“I’m here… buy me…” they whisper.

They look innocent, but they’re the devil’s bait.

I’m talking about the delicious, sinful Cadbury Mini Eggs.

These candies are about the size of an almond. The inside is rich, creamy milk chocolate, and not cheap chocolate. The chocolate is then covered in a crisp sugar shell dyed in pastel colors.

So sweet. So innocent.

So addicting.

The package pulls you in, much like a Venus Fly Trap.

Looks pretty.

Deadly inside.

There’s a sweet little bunny on the front of the package. One ear is gently folded, and he has a bit of a smile on his face. Delicate flowers surround the pastel colored eggs.

Yes, these candies look innocent, but one serving of nine eggs – realistically, who can stop there – is 160 calories. It’s 44 percent sugar, but if you’re going to eat candy, the more sugar, the better.

Cadbury Mini Eggs are only available for a few weeks before and after Easter. Innocent buyers will pick up a bag, open it, pop two or three eggs in their mouth and then they’re hooked.

I’ve munched through an entire 9-ounce bag in one stressful day. Did the chocolate make me feel better? I hate to admit it, but yes, the Cadbury Mini Eggs made my mind feel better, but my hips screamed.

If you miss buying the Cadbury eggs when they’re on the shelf, and by this time you’re an addict, you’ll pay for not stocking up. You can only buy them around Easter.

I know this because during a stressful summer, I looked for them online. The Hershey’s site stated they were unavailable.

I looked on Amazon, and they were $40 for a bag that retails for less than $5 at Easter time. Even I couldn’t justify paying that much for them, even though a little, evil voice in my head whispered “you know they’re worth it, get them, get them, get them.”

 

I bought Dove chocolates which are more expensive than the Cadbury Mini Eggs. But even at the higher price and supposedly better chocolate, they were a poor substitute for the Cadbury treats.

For those not familiar with the mini eggs, you might say they’re not the only candies that are only for sale during holiday seasons. It’s impossible to find marshmallow Peeps in July. I like sugar, but even those little confections are too much for my taste buds.

The chocolate companies have caught on to offering their treats year round. M&Ms are available for every holiday. There’s red, white and blue ones in the summer months, brown, orange and yellow ones in the fall and red and green during December.

The Hershey Company changes the foil on their Kisses to reflect the season. Red, green and silver at Christmas and red and pink for Valentine’s Day. They also offer different flavors depending on the season.

But the Cadbury Mini Eggs remain the same. Always the purple bag. Always the little bunny on the front. Always delicious, always irresistible and always addicting.

Do yourself a favor. Buy at least 10 bags right now. If you’re a recovering chocolate addict like me, don’t go down the candy aisle until April 1. In fact, avoid the side of the grocery store where the candy aisle’s located if at all possible.

Your hips will thank you.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald. 

Yesterday, I watched a car zoom across four lanes of traffic on I-10 at 65 miles an hour. All the cars around this selfish driver were slamming on their brakes as he exited without slowing down.

Curious, I wondered if there was a law about that kind of aggressive driving. When I got home, I started investigating, went down a rabbit hole and got hooked.

According to the Neal Davis Law firm, Texas Penal Code Section 48.02, it is against the law to sell human organs. You are, however, free to sell blood and hair.

I wonder if it’s against the law to auction off cellulite, wrinkles, crow’s feet and varicose veins. I’d be a millionaire if that was true.

Eating your neighbor’s garbage without permission can land you in jail for trespassing and property theft. Someone needs to alert the dogs down the street because they’re up to no good.

When my neighbor puts his garbage at the street in a plastic bag, those dogs rip it open in minutes. I wonder if they’d think twice if they knew their behavior was against the law.

I have a feeling they won’t care.

Those planning to commit a crime in Texas are required by law to provide their victims with 24 hours written or verbal notice.

The next time someone breaks into my car, smashing the windows and taking my belongings, I hope they got permission to do that. I’d hate to think they were violating the law.

This law had to be written by drunk legislators – while you don’t legally need a windshield to drive a car in Texas, it is illegal to drive without windshield wipers.

In Galveston, you can be fined $500 for sitting on the sidewalk. Please tell that to all the Mardi Gras revelers who sit down and count their beads while waiting for the next float to pass by.

Some of the dumb laws make sense. Don’t milk someone else’s cow. You can get fined up to $10. Back when milk was hovering around $5 a gallon, it might’ve been tempting to grab a bucket and look for old Bessie.

It’s illegal to drive your horse and buggy through a town square. I wish it was illegal to drive a car with the radio blaring through the middle of town.

It’s illegal to own encyclopedias because they contain a recipe to make homemade beer. These lawmakers better not look at a teenager’s cell phone.

The recipe to making a nuclear bomb is online, but let’s outlaw Encyclopedia Britannica. It’s the gateway to world destruction.

You can’t make a u-turn at any intersection in Richardson, Texas. That law would cripple Houstonians. I see people making U-turns at intersections, through the median, and occasionally in someone’s front yard.

In all fairness, we’re not the only state with strange and unusual laws. In Louisiana, you can’t tie an alligator to a fire hydrant. I guess it’s okay to tie one to a fence or the bumper of your car, just not a fire hydrant.

Many Texans think California is a weird place. They have some strange laws that back up that claim. In L.A., it’s against the law to lick a toad or wear a Zoot suit. There goes all the weekend fun.

Peacocks have the right of way to cross any California street, including driveways. Here in Texas, Longhorns and Aggies have that right.

You wonder who had the time to think up these laws. Then you wonder who listened to the pros and cons in the legislature. Then, the final head scratcher is who and how many voted these kinds of motions into actual laws.

The next time I’m in Louisiana, I’ll be on the lookout for alligators tied to fire hydrants. If I’m ever in California, I’ll need to resist licking any toads. That, not crossing over six lanes of traffic, is sure to land me in jail.

Go figure.

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.