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Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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The Final Tee Box with Jean Guthrie

February 10, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

dantante bay golf course hole 17

 

We approached the signature Hole 17 on the Danzante Bay Golf Course overlooking the Sea of Cortez in Loreto, Mexico, but without the usual commotion and gusto. Our mission was not to send our ball soaring over the towering cliff from the tee box to the green below but to honor our friend Jean Guthrie in the way she would appreciate.

guthrie golf

Jean died after a short illness while we were on vacation at the Villa del Palmar. She was our laughing friend, the one who offered shots of Fireball when we birdied a hole, the one who cajoled her quiet husband Mike to dress up like an elf for Christmas parties, the one who always greeted us with rib-crunching hugs, and the one who raised three sons and made it look easy. We wanted to memorialize her effervescent spirit with her own tee box at the signature hole.

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My husband Ken wrote her name on a Titelist golf gall and added a tee from Spurwing Country Club, the club we all belong to in Idaho. We placed the tee on the highest cliff overlooking the tee box and shared a moment of silence. We walked away, knowing a mysterious breeze could come at any moment and move the ball.

jean and elaine

Jean Guthrie exploded into our lives riding on vibrant rays of sunshine, illuminating our meandering personal cart paths, tossing shots of adult beverages, hollering at others to join the parade, and refusing to leave until everyone was laughing. Her death brings the final darkness of a star exploding in the night sky, showering us with one last poignant glimmer before extinguishing forever and leaving a void that can’t be filled.

jean guthrie golf

Jean possessed the gift of joy; she was exuberant, positive, infectious, beautiful, independent and adventurous. She loved life, and she loved her family. She met Mike Guthrie in college, and they created the powerful team known as Jean-and-Mike. They established successful businesses, raised three sons, and traveled the world, toting golf bags along with Jean’s energetic optimism to balance Mike’s dry wit.

jean guthrie shots

During the last few years, Jean’s active life took on an accelerated pace. She went to Turkey alone to join friends, she moved to Idaho, cared for her ailing sister, divided her time between Idaho and Palm Desert, California, and she organized a golf excursion with Mike to play major courses throughout the south. Her latest adventure came just two weeks before her death when Mike and she took their sons and their partners on a week-long trip to Hawaii. She lived life to the fullest until suddenly her life was over before we could play another round.

guthrie, diteman, us st chapelle

Knowing Jean was a privilege. We’ve shared golf games where laughter exceeded any serious decorum. We’ve dined at each other’s homes, escaped for a weekend at a mountain cabin, and enjoyed a day-long tour of Idaho’s wine country. Through it all, we never suspected she would die at age 67. Not Jean. Not the force behind the smile. The untimely end to such a vivacious, spirited woman proves life isn’t fair, and abundant laughter is balanced with profound pain.

The world is less bright without Jean, but she would want us to go play, aim for the birdie, and toast her with shots. So for Jean, we’ll wipe our tears and try to live and laugh without her; but we’ll never forget. Farewell, our funny, feisty, and fabulous friend. We’ll talk again when we return to Loreto.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #death, #golf, #Idaho, Guthrie, Loreto Mexico, memorial, Spurwing Country Club

My Friends were Possessed after the Election

January 25, 2017 By Elaine Ambrose

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My colorful, creative collection of friends consists of liberals, conservatives, assorted thespians, some town criers, recovering journalists, and a few agnostics. I enjoy our online conversations, and we usually resolve any issues with a virtual toast of wine and some salacious jokes. But after the national presidential election, all hell broke loose on social media when anyone commented for or against the results. Several times, I had to scrape the manure off my eyeballs and go take a shower.

The rancorous election turned some of my funny, positive, middle-aged friends and associates into hate-spewing demons who threatened eternal damnation to anyone with an opposing opinion. Because I’m too old and chubby to fight, I decided to offer some innocuous images that made social media popular: photos of funny animals. Just for extra fun, I added exact quotes from some of the more vitriolic comments. I didn’t include the profane remarks because we’ve all seen them and choose not to see them again.

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The most popular demand was, “Unfriend me now!” I assume the friend had the power to quietly unfriend me, but it was more dramatic to make a statement on the Internet. I think this funny horse doesn’t care, and neither do I.

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Sometimes the comments are ugly and intended to hurt. My friend received this retort on Facebook after she dared to post a non-threatening remark. She is a sweet, funny grandmother and couldn’t understand why anyone would be so mean. Bless her heart.

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Frankly, some of us are getting tired of the unjustified and untrue name-calling. Just look at this cuddly little hamster. She just wants to play and wiggle. Be like that.

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Another friend received this “Shame on you!!!!” comment on her Facebook page. She’s the one who received the most exclamation marks of all the retorts because people were blatantly mad about her opinions. This laughing bulldog thinks humans are weird.

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I received a message instructing me not to get smug after I wrote something positive and negative about each candidate. My accused smugness could have been applied to either or neither. It was all too confusing.

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This exaggerated message was sent to my friend, the sweet grandmother. She didn’t know how she could possibly torture anyone, let alone dismantle their family. She decided to delete her post and go back to sharing photographs of flowers and kittens. She wonders how things got so offensive. Her left eye is still twitching.

After the dust settles and we all go back to breathing without exhaling steam, we can tiptoe back onto social media and be midlife friends again. I miss our online chats about empty nests, full schedules, tight budgets, and loose skin. We’ll get more involved in the political process so we can endorse better candidates in the future, and we’ll work together to help instead of hurt each other. I want to laugh again. We can’t allow the animals to have all the fun.

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #facebook, #humor, #social media, anger, election, unfriend

Award-Winning Children’s Book Now an Audiobook

December 27, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

 Print

Growing up on an Idaho potato farm prompted me to write the lead story in my children’s book, Gators & Taters – A Week of Bedtime Stories. A visit to Ireland sparked my interest in folklore and inspired this collection that includes stories I once told to my children and now read to my grandchildren. The book is available as an audiobook for $6.95. I read the narration and the recording lasts an hour.

The book was designed to be read aloud to children. Parents, caregivers, and teachers can celebrate the tradition of storytelling and inspire children to wonder about characters, places, and adventures. These seven delightful stories bubble with lyrical language, captivating scenes, and gentle messages.

Research proves that reading to a child is one simple but powerful parenting technique that helps children get a head start in literacy skills and go to school better prepared. Reading to children also strengthens the bond with the caregiver and encourages imagination. No batteries required.

Print

Awards and Honors for Gators & Taters

  • * One of 50 Children’s Books Selected for Bowker’s National Recommended Reading List
  • * Selected for Idaho Public Television “First Books” Program with Statewide distribution to underprivileged children
  • * Selected for State of Idaho “Read Out Loud Crowd” Program
  • * Selected for the Summer Reading List for the Log Cabin Literary Center in Boise, Idaho
  • * Selected for the Barnes & Noble Summer Reading Program in Boise, Idaho

“These warm, funny stories have creative imagery to be exciting and narrative rhythm to be soothing. In a busy world where children need reassurance, these imaginative stories provide respite and hope.”

  • Janice Fletcher, Ed.D, Director, Child Development Laboratory, University of Idaho

Hootnflute

The sequel to Gators & Taters was titled The Magic Potato – La Papa Mágica, a bilingual storybook that was adopted for the Idaho statewide school curriculum.

Author’s Note: I wrote Gators & Taters when I had a different last name, and I had to keep that name after a divorce because the book is copyrighted and cataloged in the Library of Congress under the former name. A new print edition, using my current and forever name and including 35 new original illustrations will be released in the spring of 2017.

 

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #Mill Park Publishing, #parenting, audiobook, folktales, Gators & Taters, Ireland, reading to children

The Shepherd Boy and the Little Lamb

December 8, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

 

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Thirty years ago, my son Adam was a faithful shepherd in the Sunday School Christmas pageant. Last night, his daughter played the role of a lamb in a Preschool Christmas service. In both plays, the children sang about Baby Jesus lying in a manger. The story is more than 2,000 years old, and I believe it.

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We live in a time where political correctness has diminished the authentic joy of the Christmas season. Public school programs are filled with generic songs about cold winter holidays, nativity scenes are forbidden, and businesses have focus groups to decide if employees can say “Merry Christmas.” I understand the thoughts behind this purging of culture to accommodate all and no beliefs, but the result is a bland and weak depiction of a timid society with no passion.

In my travels, I’ve learned to acknowledge and appreciate other customs and religions. I’ve seen Buddhist Temples in Thailand, a Kau Cim stick ceremony at the Wong Tai Sin Temple in Hong Kong, several Muslim Mosques in Cairo, Egypt, and the Swayambhunath Temple overlooking Kathmandu, Nepal that is used by followers of the Hindu and Buddhist faiths. I’ve stood in a Latin Catholic Mass in the Duomo in Florence, Italy, and experienced a private tour of the Spertus Institute for Jewish Learning and Leadership in Chicago, Illinois. And, I’ve known many people who are agnostic or atheist. All these experiences provided a deep appreciation for the journeys of faith – or no faith – that millions of people live every day.

I honor my core beliefs and choose to sing “Joy to the World” but have no problem with others singing their own religious or spiritual songs. I want to be renewed through the innocent pageants of children. In my opinion, divine sounds come from little children singing, “Away in a Manger.”

The memories of my little shepherd boy and his sweet precious lamb fill my heart with joy. I won’t allow anyone or anything to take that away from me. I sincerely wish all my friends Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, or anything that will honor their beliefs. With the future of that cherished lamb solid on my mind, I pray for a better New Year.

 

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #Christmas, #holidays, #joy, carols, faith, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, manger, political correctness

The Great Potato Debate: Idaho Vs. Maine

November 22, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

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A recent poll revealed that Americans are more divided than ever during this Thanksgiving week. Perhaps most contentious is the debate over which potatoes to serve: Idaho or Maine.

Holiday meals won’t be complete without a cube of real butter melting in the center of a heaping bowl of mashed potatoes next to an industrial-sized pitcher of homemade gravy. These simple pleasures make life worth living.

My grandparents and parents were potato farmers in Idaho, and I knew that the state produced the best spuds in the world. Recently that opinion was challenged when I met Molly Stevens, a humor writer from Bangor, Maine. She’s proud of her state’s potatoes and had the audacity to send me a list of reasons Maine spuds are better than Idaho potatoes.

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Her half-baked view fried my tater tots, and I considered mashing her list of reasons into a stew of discarded peelings. But, I decided to vegetate on the harvest of ideas and hash over the rebuttal to her dig. We met at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in Dayton, Ohio, and proceeded to duplicate the “shrimp scene” from the movie, Forest Gump.

“We like our spuds baked, mashed, fried, scalloped, in salad, and grilled,” I said.

“Well, we like ours so much we have twice-baked spuds, and we add them to casseroles, soups, stews, and hash,” she answered.

“Everyone knows that Idaho potatoes make the best potato chips, pancakes, and gnocchi,” I replied.

“Well, have you ever eaten loaded skins made from Maine spuds or dropped them into a pot at a crab boil? You’ll fall on your hoe and declare that we have the better potatoes.” Molly was passionate about her potatoes.

To offer a balanced debate on the fate of the great potato, here are our facts, beginning with our formidable childhood work in the fields:

Molly: I grew up on a potato farm in Northern Maine and started picking potatoes when I was five years old. I got to drive the tractor until ‘The Incident’ when I drove the tractor over the bank taking a wide turn at the end of the row. Luckily there was no rollover to recall but I can still hear my Dad shout “Balls!” which was his go-to word when he was upset and the harshest language I ever heard him utter.

Elaine:
I grew up on a potato farm outside the village of Wendell, Idaho. Schools were closed for two weeks in October so everyone could help with the harvest. My job was to stand on the back of a lumbering harvester pulling weeds, vines, and rocks off the spuds as they tumbled over rattling chains into the trucks. The job brought added challenges of dirt, wind, noise, and cold temperatures, but no one complained. Children in those days were hungry to work because the parents usually said, “No work. No dinner.”

Molly: The staple on our table morning, noon and night was the lowly and delicious potato. I was vaguely aware that another state in the union touted itself the top potato grower. According to my jigsaw puzzle of the United States Idaho was way out west, bordering Montana. I didn’t worry too much about competition from the Idaho potato because I knew from the Maine Potato Board that Maine potatoes were better and the first reason is because of the superior seed. Dad grew Maine potatoes from the best seed possible because he raised his own and Dad didn’t do anything less than excellent.

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Elaine: Maine doesn’t have that much volcanic soil, mainly because the state’s volcanoes haven’t erupted for millions of years. Idaho is a virtual hot bed of volcanic action and the last large eruption was only 5,200 years ago, right before I was born. The resulting rich soil produces potatoes that taste better, last longer, and offer a more pleasing texture. We purchased seed potatoes from eastern Idaho, the True Territory of the Tuber.

Molly: Maine has more experience because we’ve been producing potatoes longer than any state in the nation. Do you want to eat a potato that hasn’t learned from its mistakes through the years? Don’t you think the less experienced potato would taste wet behind the eyes?

Elaine: Maine’s geriatric spuds can’t compete with Idaho’s younger, energetic potatoes. Idaho spuds are in their robust years while Maine’s puny potatoes are smaller and more wrinkled. They wear little knitted shawls and plaid hats with ear covers.

Molly: Maine’s harsh winters bring below-zero weather to kill pests while Idaho’s milder winters allow these varmints to terrorize innocent crops for another season.

Elaine: Maine’s harsh winters are why no one wants to live there. I’ll take pesky critters over frozen nose hairs any day.

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Molly: We don’t need irrigation to force growth, unlike the dry desert fields in Idaho.

Elaine: Irrigation captures the fresh water from the mountains and turns southern Idaho into fertile farmland. Harnessing the water continues to provide thousands of jobs and produce world-famous crops. And we don’t need to deal with that pesky sea salt blowing in from the Atlantic.

Molly: Our potatoes have less of a “wild” taste because we’re pretty tame here in Maine, unlike the wild west of Idaho. We calmly enjoy creating the perfect vitamin-packed, energy-rich vegetable perfect for any meal.

Elaine: True, Idaho is wild. And, big. We produce 320,000 acres of potatoes equaling 13 billion pounds every year. Idaho covers more than 83,000 square miles and is big enough to eat the state of Maine (36,000 square miles) for dinner and then gobble the states of Vermont, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Maryland, and Massachusetts for dessert. We’re wild like that.

Molly: Maine wins because of our humility. Idaho surpasses Maine in extolling the virtues of their potatoes with a huge advertising budget. Maine, on the other hand, thinks that the flavor of our potatoes is all that is necessary to market our superior product. Thus every bite of a Maine potato includes a serving of humility.

Elaine: You’re correct about the humility. We openly brag about our spuds and have a six-ton potato touring the country on a truck. We also enjoy the Famous Idaho Potato Bowl football game, the country’s best Potato Museum, and the sexy Idaho Potato Drop on New Year’s Eve. Not one ounce of humility is used in the creation and promotion of these events.

Molly: Our potatoes have thick skin. Living in Northern Maine is not easy with its harsh winters and remote location. This makes our potato grow a thicker skin, which is much less vulnerable to bruises and blemishes during harvest and shipping.organic-spuds

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Elaine: The skin on an Idaho potato can be brown, gold, purple, or red. This colorful array of delicious, nutritious food makes the centerpiece for a healthy meal. If the skin isn’t as thick as yours, that just makes it easier to peel.

We decided to end the debate because we were getting hungry. We’ll continue our research and try various recipes using the illustrious potato. I’ll concede that Maine offers other great food items: lobster, clam chowder with black bread, and Whoopie pies. Idaho has potatoes.

The only fact we agreed on: friends don’t allow friends to eat instant mashed potatoes. This nasty product is made from dehydrated inferior potatoes mixed with sodium bisulfate, citric acid, and BHA to preserve color and flavor. BHA is short for butylated hydroxyanisole, and some studies indicate it may be a carcinogen. Other ingredients in instant potatoes can include hydrogenated oils, corn syrup, silicon dioxide, and other mystery chemicals. Don’t buy or eat this fake food.

Here’s to a festive holiday meal, highlighted with a steaming bowl of real mashing potatoes. Forget any contentious debates, and eat, drink, and be merry.

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #holidays, #Idaho, Maine, potatoes

Survive the Holidays without a Food Fight

November 22, 2016 By Elaine Ambrose

family-tree(I’ll be interviewed live on Texas Conflict Coach Blog Talk Radio Program on November 22 at 6:00 pm Mountain Standard Time. We’ll chat about how blended families can unite and not fight during the holidays. Here’s the link to listen live.)

Your family tree could be in danger of falling over because the branches are laden with sporadic offshoots, new in-laws, old stepparents, and assorted children who share multiple homes. But because of extra care these roots are strong and our tree can hold the chaotic collection of yours, mine, ours, various ex-spouses, and a few confused grandparents.

This holiday season we welcome a delightful baby to the family, and for a splendid moment before someone falls into the Christmas tree or a kid rips off the head of a cousin’s new Barbie, there will be peace in the valley.

Blended families add chaos to the holidays, and planning a stress-free schedule requires maximum organizational skills, saintly tolerance, nimble flexibility, and extra mugs of fortified eggnog.

Plan now for the possible scenarios.

You could be standing in the buffet line next to your ex-spouse, your stepson may demand to bring his mother and her new boyfriend to your home for brunch, or your son’s stepdaughters might want to stay at their father’s place because you don’t have cable television. It’s all fun and games until Grandma throws down her cane and demands to know who all the people are coming and going.

To prepare for the festivities and retain a tiny bit of sanity, start planning the holiday schedule months in advance. The best situations involve divorced parents who can cooperate and negotiate holiday schedules as they decide custody issues involving their children. We all know mean-spirited, immature parents who refuse to budge, and that only hurts their children. These parents should receive nothing but coal in their stockings, and they better start saving money for their kids’ future counseling sessions.

Our blended family resembles a crock pot of beef soup mixed with sugar and spice with a side of jambalaya and a touch of hot sauce spread over four generations.

My husband and I each have two adult children. My daughter married a man who already had a daughter and then they had two more daughters. My son married a woman with two girls and they had another baby in October. My ex-husband lives in the area and is included on family birthdays and other events. Somehow it all works and no one has threatened anyone with a weapon, so far.

There are 14 Christmas stockings hanging over the mantel, and we’ll need to build another one if any more members join the family. I’m uncomfortable with the label “step-grandchild” so I’ll just call all of them my grandkids. They don’t mind and some of those lucky kids have four sets of doting grandparents. Score!

Here are three final suggestions for surviving the holidays with a blended family: First, have a sense of humor because it’s better to laugh at the commotion instead of breaking something. Second, take plenty of photographs to identify everyone because Grandma is still baffled. Third, make time to appreciate the creative collection of characters in your unique family, believing that each one adds a definite spice. In the spirit of the holidays, choose to make it work.

 

Filed Under: blog Tagged With: #blended families, #conflictchat, #holidays, #parenting, #tradition, stress

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