Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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Midlife Cabernet: Bad Grandma

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My two granddaughters, ages 6 and 4, came to play with me while their parents were out of town. The first ten minutes were splendid. No screaming, no urgent demands for gourmet food, and no poop on the dining table. Then all hell broke loose. Mr. Bill and the Waldorf doll opened the Crown Royal, the Potato Head cowboy seduced Ms. Carrot with chocolates and wine, and the runaway bunny ran away but his mommy didn’t care.

The parents were gone less than an hour before the playroom resembled the aftermath of a violent tornado, a chaotic cavalcade of cups and carving knives covered my kitchen floor, and a bag of reward treats mysteriously disappeared. I considered calling the airport to stop their airplane, but the older child had taken my phone, locked herself in the bathroom, and was downloading game apps while the younger girl climbed the plant stand to pull off and eat all the leaves from my prized Christmas cactus. I glanced at my watch: only five hours until bedtime. Could I endure?

We played for hours and made crafts, read books, and enjoyed a tea party with the teddy bears. After dinner, we all got soaked as I attempted to give them a bath. The evening ended with story time and rocking the little one. As they snuggled into bed, I turned on the lullaby channel on the Pandora station and expressed gratitude that no blood had been shed. Studley slipped me a glass of wine and we quietly celebrated. Day one, mission accomplished.

Over the next few days I followed my daughter’s two-page, detailed schedule with instructions for medicine dosages, organic and gluten-free foods, pre-school times, and where to catch the bus for elementary school. Occasionally I can follow directions so both children were fed, dressed, and transported to the appropriate places, giving me time to go home and stand in a hot shower until my eye stopped twitching.

By the fourth day, playtime was less structured, dessert came first, and I lost my daughter’s instructions. My activities probably wouldn’t be sanctioned by the local mommy clubs, but we laughed ourselves silly telling knock-knock jokes and staging antics with the toys. Who knew the Waldorf doll was such a scamp?

(Note to my daughter: None of this is true. Well, the part about poop on the dining table really happened, but the person involved and the table have been cleaned.)

By the end of our time together, we had listened to the theme song “Let it Go” from the Disney movie Frozen approximately 836 times. The song was more than three minutes long, so it provided the perfect bribe and distraction for combing through wet hair. That tactic was nicer than having them bite on pencils while I untangled the mess.

The parents returned and brought me fresh bread and fine wine from San Francisco. I really should reward them because it was a great time and I love those little girls with all my heart. Now the house is way too quiet, but I’ll adjust. So until next time, Pumpkin and Sweetie Pie, keep singing and don’t forget that Tutu has more stories to tell. You’ll never believe what those naughty teddy bears did today!

Today’s blog was fueled by a vibrant and luscious 2008 Black Tears Malbec from Argentina. At $90 a bottle, it should be saved for special occasions, such as when the house is quiet and you don’t have to wear pajamas. Join the wine club at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle and it’s only $60 a bottle. You’ll save $30 to help pay for shock therapy to get the Disney song out of your head!

Midlife Cabernet: Granny’s Guidelines for Graduates

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I’m the commencement speaker next week at the College of Southern Idaho. I’ll tell the graduates that they are doomed, there aren’t any jobs, the country is teetering on the brink of destruction, they’ll never get out of debt, and they should move into a tent in the forest and make macramé hangers to sell at craft fairs. Too harsh?

I grew up in a small town during an easier time. My mother would send me alone to the grocery store, and I would return with fresh bread, local eggs, a roast, and a pie or two. You can’t do that anymore because there are too many security cameras.

Thousands of graduates and their families will sit through commencement ceremonies this spring, and I hope they glean a few tidbits of wisdom from the speakers who desperately will be searching for eye contact. It’s difficult for motivational speakers to keep going when they know the audience already has checked out. So, while you’re all still awake, here are my ten simple suggestions for a good life:

  1. Accept the fact that life isn’t fair. You could work hard, excel at your job, and miss your kid’s school programs only to see some pretty woman have an affair with the senior vice president and be given your job. (I write from personal experience.) Or you could get hit by a beer truck or your spouse could run away with a carnival worker or your hillbilly neighbor could get a lucrative reality show on television. Just change your profession and write country/western songs.
  2. No one owes you a living. Chances are, you’re not going to win the Publisher’s Clearinghouse Sweepstakes or the million-dollar lottery. And you can’t live with your parents anymore because they want to buy a recreational vehicle and travel around to casinos. Go into the world and make your own way.
  3. Take risks without a helmet. Kids need to be free to stomp in puddles, fall out of trees, catch frogs in a ditch, and ride their bikes without a helmet (just not around traffic.) Let them experience true freedom before life gives them a mortgage, kids, in-laws, fifty extra pounds, buffoon bosses, and irritable bowel syndrome.
  4. Mansions, fast cars, and luxury vacations don’t guarantee happiness. Many good people are honestly delighted to have a small house with indoor plumbing, a pickup truck that runs, and a favorite camping place. Be like that.
  5. Get out of debt. Why work your entire life just to pay interest to a bank? In most cases, that $100 debt on your credit card for that sassy pair of boots will remain long after they have worn out. Pay cash or go bootless.
  6. Enjoy relationships. The happiest people are surrounded by family members and friends who accept their faults, celebrate their achievements, and invite them over for barbecues and wine.
  7. Avoid crabby people. They will suck out every last ounce of your energy and leave you a withered, bitter shell of wretched humanity. Purge your contact list now before it’s too late.
  8. Don’t fight. No explanation needed.
  9. Love more. Ditto.
  10. Laugh, dance, and sing. Triple ditto. Oh, and read more books.

I purposely avoided any mention of politics or religion because I’d rather smack my head with a hammer than tiptoe through the mine field of political correctness. One last bit of advice: On Mother’s Day, call your mom and thank her for putting up with you. If she is no longer living, call another mother and wish her a happy day. You’ll both feel good.

Today’s blog is fueled by a bottle of 2010 Ferrari-Carano Siena red wine from Sonoma County. I’ve loved this rich Sangiovese blend for several years, and it’s available from Crush Wine Bar in Eagle for $34…and six dollars less if you’re a member of the wine club. I’m trying to accept the screw cap, but I do love the sound and experience of popping a cork.

Midlife Cabernet: How to Survive a Grandchild Sleepover without a Manual or Medication

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When my charming granddaughter Sweetie Pie is finished with her meal, she throws the dishes and leftover food from her highchair tray onto the floor, crosses her arms, and smiles at me. I tried this once in a restaurant and was asked to leave.

At least I don’t need to guess what Sweetie Pie wants. Milk? Yes! Book? Yes! Nap? No! Adult life should be so simple. Can you imagine pointing to a bottle of wine, pounding your hand on the table, and expecting someone to jump up and bring a full glass along with a plate of imported cheese, Italian olives, and crusty bread? No, me neither.

I recently experienced a four-night sleepover with three-year-old Sweetie Pie. She loves cheese, strawberries, books, and being rocked while I sing to her. The only thing she doesn’t like is when I try to fix her hair. We’ve settled on three misaligned pigtails.

It’s a mixture of fun and exhaustion when a grandchild stays overnight, so here are my suggestions for surviving the slumber party:

Smile politely when your grown child hands you a baby with a two-page list of instructions because somehow they forgot that you raised them without a manual or explanatory DVD.
Note how your hearing improves significantly during the night because any cough or whimper shocks you wide awake to scurry to their room to make sure they are still breathing.
Remember that crayons will stain the grout in your expensive travertine floor but you don’t want to stifle a budding artist.
Child-proof the kitchen: use bungee cords to secure the cabinet drawers, and lock up the booze or you’ll be guzzling gin by noon. Stock at least one shelf with plastic bowls for them to pull out and throw around. You’ll get plenty of exercise picking up everything.
Know that your spouse will magically disappear when it’s time to change diapers but instantly return when you and your precious little chef are making chocolate chip cookies.
Never tell the parents that you and their organic child stayed up late to share ice cream and cookies while watching the classic movie Blazing Saddles.
Relish the moment when your grandchildren want to give you one more hug when it’s time to go home. Assure them they can return as soon as your eye stops twitching.
Momentarily appreciate how quiet the house is after they leave. Then plan for the next visit. This is your legacy we’re talking about.
One of the many interesting facts about Sweetie Pie is that she has Down syndrome. She is a reminder that blessings can come in small, unpredictable packages that may not look like or learn as quickly as others. But, she is a radiant example of abundant and unconditional love in a world too focused on perfect images and shallow affection. I’ve learned a lot from Sweetie Pie, and I look forward to her next visit.

Today’s blog was fueled by a 2010 Dunham Trutina from Dunham Cellars. This delightful wine is a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec, Cabernet Franc, and Syrah. It’s available at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle, A New Vintage Wine Shop on Eagle Road and Fairview, and at Berryhill Restaurant in Boise. The cost ranges from $38 to $50 a bottle, so save it for a special time…such as after the kids are asleep.

Midlife Cabernet: Sucking Fat

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“This is the most fat I have ever removed!” The perky doctor greeted me as I woke from a drug-induced slumber. I tried to focus as she held out a surgical napkin holding two plump lines of slime that resembled skinned worms.

“Look at this!” She seemed breathless. “All this came from under your eyes!”

I was still groggy. “Can you imagine what you’d get if you sucked out my belly!” I muttered. “You’d need to bring in a wheelbarrow and a shovel!”

She was giddy about her prize and ran off to show the other doctors who proceeded to gasp and look over at me. Yes, that’s the day I became known as the Obese Eye Lady of St. Luke’s Hospital – the one who produced the most eyeball fat ever removed in the history of a medical procedure known as blepharoplasty. I waved and went back to sleep, wondering how in the hell I could get more of the delightful drugs.

The next day, I woke to find a raccoon staring back at me in the mirror. The hideous bruises under my eyes were black and looked as if I had been the loser in a brawl at the women’s prison. For the next four weeks, those bruises migrated slowly down my cheeks, turning green and then yellow, until they landed on my chin, which by then was sprouting a scraggly beard.

After about a month, the bruises went away – just about the time that the bags returned, as if to mock the thousands of dollars I had spent on the procedure. Once again I can hide martini olives under the bags beneath my eyes. Maybe I can create an exercise to remove the fat – or maybe I can just accept them as part of who I am and how I look. I’ll go with the second choice.

(This excerpt is from my book Midlife Cabernet. That title is so much better than the original working title of Elderly Wino. The book will be released in late fall, and will include portions of this blog from the past few years.)

Today’s blog is fueled by a 2010 Ferrari-Carano Merlot from Sonoma County. This complex wine offers flavors of dark chocolate and caramel with a touch of spice. It’s best enjoyed with roasted meat following any surgical procedure. Find it at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle for $35 – or $29 for members of their wine club.

Midlife Cabernet: It was a Dark and Stormy Night for a Writer

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I recently participated in a local holiday bazaar and displayed my award-winning books and sassy new calendars and offered a free bottle of wine with every $75 order. I even threw in free sweatbands. The kick-in-the-gut reality set in six hours later when I packed up my display and realized I didn’t make enough money to pay for the entry fee. I should have stayed home and played with Studley.

Many people think that writing a book will bring fame and fortune. In reality it brings that sad moment when your cart breaks and your books fall onto the pavement in the night rain. Added to the frustration is the cruel fact that the few people who straggle into a bazaar located in a hidden gym have no intention of buying a book. Not when there are necklaces made from melted spoons and scented wax that smells like Christmas trees.

The lonely event was organized to promote and celebrate local businesswomen. I brought eight titles that included a national bestseller, three national award winners, and one book that had been adopted by the Idaho Department of Education for the statewide curriculum. I didn’t sell a single book. My heart was as heavy as the boxes I lugged back to my car.

I felt extra guilty because I had encouraged my friend and author AK Turner to join me in the bazaar. We set up our tables, arranged our books, and had our Internet payment connection all ready to go. After a few hours, we realized that our return on investment was negative and our analytical husbands had been correct. Sometimes the truth really sucks.

Of course we made the best of a bad situation. We had a bottle of wine tucked inside my briefcase and sipped out of paper cups. As the evening dragged, another bottle was opened and we drowned our collective sorrow by sharing the fruit of the vine. After awhile we didn’t give a damn if anyone even looked at our books. They didn’t even deserve to look at them!

Writers have this naive optimism that the world will clamor to read their every word when in reality people would rather have some smelly candle or a lopsided pottery vase. Why buy a book written by local authors when you can wear a rhinestone bracelet made in China? Why care that a local entrepreneur spent months crafting random words into creative and clever sentences when there are burp rags selling for $2.00?

After the bazaar, it took several trips back and forth to my car to pack the table, chair, boxes of books, calendars, a case of wine, and supplies. On the last trip, my tote broke and books scattered onto the wet pavement. I fought back tears as I picked up each book, dried it on my sweater, and tossed it into the car. It was as if I were picking up pieces of my heart that nobody wanted. (Seriously, I was really milking the drama of the moment.)

I’m not bitter about the lack of sales. I congratulate the businesswomen who sold spaces for the bazaar. She made a profit. I did not. Therefore, I won’t do it again. Experience is an excellent teacher, and I’m now working on a generic book about a vampire wizard who comes in fifty shades of grey with magical powers that include funky jewelry, an incense burner, and a garden chime. That should be a bestseller.

Today’s blog is fueled by a 2011 Luna Cabernet Sauvignon from California. It’s the perfect anecdote to a demoralized mood and can be found at Crush Wine Bar in Eagle for only $22. Toss in a snickers cupcake and the world is happy once more.