Elaine Ambrose

Bestselling Author, Ventriloquist, & Humorist

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The Lights of My Life

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Chandelier in McCall house

I bought my first chandelier in 1997 while building a house on the east shore of Payette Lake in McCall, Idaho. I was divorced and had sold my interest in the family business. I wanted a new start so invested the proceeds to create a dream home in McCall.

Joan at the construction site in 1997

For the interior design, I consulted my friend and designer Joan Whitacre. She found a brilliant and massive chandelier for the entryway but when it arrived from Boston, the construction workers on site laughed at her. They told her it was too big to fit inside the door. She sent them to lunch and proceeded to manipulate the enormous chandelier one prong at a time to maneuver the entire fixture through the doorframe. The chandelier was perfect.

I sold the house ten years later, a greedy action I still regret, and was dismayed to learn the new owners replaced the chandelier with lights hidden inside a jumble of antlers. The new owners also removed the custom 1950 kitchen downstairs, but their payment cleared so I tried not to care. My personal drama included another marriage and divorce, so I started over again.

Over the following 16 years, I moved to eight different houses, always searching for the best light in the perfect home. I built a cabin in Garden Valley in 2008 and ordered lights from a local lighting company and a few online options. I added wall sconces to add indirect lights for a dozen writing retreats I organized at the cabin under the name “Write by the River.” I intended to retire there, but I sold it in 2021. Again, that’s another regret. The cabin recently sold again for a substantial profit for the owners.

Pulitzer Prize Winner Anthony Doerr speaks at the “Write by the River” writing retreat in Garden Valley
Chandelier and copper ceiling in Eagle home

When I moved to a third new house Eagle in 2009, I contacted Joan Whitacre for help with design and furnishings. Again, she found the perfect chandelier and recommended a ceiling covered in copper. The results were stunning and dramatic. I found a cute guy from Texas and invited him to share the home. The chandelier continued to shine over family holiday gatherings, book signing events, writing workshops, and birthday celebrations.

Moving the chandelier from Eagle to Meridian

 

We moved again in 2018 and brought the chandelier to the new home in SpurWing for my piano room. An earthquake in 2020 caused it to sway, and I captured a video on my cell phone. The video, posted below, received more than 18,000 views on Twitter.

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Piano room at SpurWing

I had to leave the chandelier behind when the house sold in 2020. After living for 16 months in a rental house without a chandelier, we moved again to a custom house back in Eagle. Joan had retired and was traveling the world with her husband, so I searched for new lights.

I found the perfect chandeliers in the Hyde and Seek Shop in Boise and purchased five in two sizes. I hung hundreds of crystal pieces on the chandeliers, and now they sparkle in the entryway, the powder room, the piano room, my office, and the main bathroom.

I also prefer eclectic lamps, including a “Storyteller Lamp” from Villa Decor in Eagle and a natural-leaf “jelly fish” lamp from North End Organic Nursery in Garden City, Idaho. I painted the shade to match the walls in my office.

“Storyteller Lamp”
Leaf “Jelly Fish Lamp”
Chandelier and tile wall in power room in Eagle
Chandelier in my office

The lights of my life have illuminated grand, poignant, and painful moments inside a wide variety of homes. I’m finally where I should be, and I don’t intend to move again or purchase another chandelier. I know the darkness can’t last long when rooms and attitudes are bathed in brilliant lights in a safe place that says, “Welcome Home.”

 

Blended Families Can Survive the Holidays (without Calling the Cops)

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crazy-christmas

The holiday season is here! If you’re in a blended family, that fact could cause your eyes to twitch and your beleaguered intestines to threaten explosive diarrhea because you barely got over the stress from last year’s drama. But with coordinated logistics and bribes, combined families can learn how to survive without a food fight, bloodletting, or lawsuits. Just keep the wine and the children breathing.

Even with careful preparation, sometimes the best plans get burned along with the roast. It’s tempting to go over the river and through the woods to Grandma’s house and then keep on going just to avoid all the trite platitudes and impossible expectations about the holidays. Forget Rockwell’s famous portrait because most grandmothers don’t wear white aprons after fixing a messy meal, and there’s a good chance that this year they’ll introduce their new boyfriends instead of picture-perfect platters of browned Butterballs. And Martha Stewart is not coming over, so forget the hand-painted placemats and pilgrim-shaped gelatin molds.

Blended families add chaos to the holidays, and designing a stress-free schedule requires maximum organizational skills, saintly tolerance, and nimble flexibility so 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. You may accidentally call your son’s new girlfriend by his ex-wife’s name as you see someone’s boisterous toddler climbing onto the fireplace mantel.

It’s all fun and games until Grandma throws down her cane and demands to know who all the people are coming and going.

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 compromise, and that only hurts their children. These parents should receive nothing but coal in their stockings, and they should start saving money for their children’s future therapy sessions.

My husband and I each have two adult children from previous marriages. 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. My ex-husband lives in the area and is included in family birthdays and other events. Somehow it all works, and no one has threatened anyone with a weapon, so far.

Our 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.

During the holiday season, we welcome everyone into the family, and for a splendid moment in time we’re all singing Fa La La before someone falls into the Christmas tree, a kid rips off the head of a cousin’s new Barbie, or the dog barfs in the kitchen.

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 four final suggestions for surviving the holidays with a blended family:

  • Have a sense of humor because it’s better to laugh at the commotion instead of breaking something.
  • Take plenty of photographs to identify everyone because Grandma is still baffled.
  • Assign responsibilities and anticipate problems when Uncle Bud gets drunk, the baby swallows a turkey leg, or Grandpa starts snoring during dinner.
  • 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.

Finally, reduce the stressful requirements and use prepared gravy mixes, boxed stuffing, and leftover Halloween napkins. If people object, they can host next year.

Going Solo on the Gratitude Cruise

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Feeling guilty because your Thanksgiving experience never resembles the Norman Rockwell painting of a happy family gathered around a lovely table as Grandma in her white apron proudly delivers a perfect turkey?

Does your feast often include a drunk uncle, at least one pouting teenager, grandpa blowing his nose on the fine linen, a power outage, gag-inducing gravy, cousins chasing each other with the electric carving knife, a devil-nephew cramming olive pits up his nose, and a quarrel between some adults who should be sitting at the children’s table? Maybe it’s time to put down the drumsticks and the shotguns and just relax. If you get to midnight on Thanksgiving without a single drama, count your blessings and multiply by ten.

We should go over the river, through the woods, and keep on going just to avoid all the glossy images, trite platitudes, and impossible expectations about this holiday. Forget Rockwell’s famous portrait because most grandmothers don’t wear white aprons after fixing a messy meal, and there’s a good chance this year they’ll introduce their new boyfriends instead of picture-perfect platters of browned butterballs. And Martha Stewart is not coming over, so forget the hand-painted place mats and pilgrim-shaped gelatin molds.

After a few decades, seasoned women ease up on the stressful requirements and have no qualms about using prepared gravy mixes, boxed stuffing, and leftover Halloween napkins. As long as the turkey is done and the wine is open, we’re just fine. My mother’s generation washed Thanksgiving dishes until their hands turned numb while the menfolk watched TV, smoked, and farted. My daughter’s generation finds both men and women working together in the kitchen. I’m thankful that I’ve lived long enough to witness such profound progress.

Most of us have survived at least one holiday during a painful, pivotal time in our lives. For me, Thanksgiving provided a poignant perspective a few years ago when I was a middle-aged divorcee and it seemed that everyone in the entire world was part of a happy, loving, and thankful couple. I survived the holiday for two reasons: I never miss a good meal, and I was determined to show gratitude. The second reason was more challenging than the first. I tackled the dilemma by doing something completely spontaneous: That Thanksgiving I booked a reservation for a cruise the following March to Costa Rica, Panama, and Cozumel.

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The cruise was called, ironically, the Gratitude Cruise. I found the information while researching one of my favorite speakers, Dr. Sue Morter. I previously had attended her International Living Seminar as part of a business conference. She is a healer and a teacher, and she focuses on the connections between the mind, the body, and the spirit. I know this sounds way too new-age for my old-age sensibilities, but when you hit bottom you look for the light. Any light.

I went on the cruise by myself. During the week, the programs included music and workshops about inner peace, meditation, acceptance, resilience, and, most important, gratitude. For the first time in my life, I was truly alone and didn’t know anyone. After wallowing in the negative emotions associated with my divorce, the positive messages from the sessions were the antidote to the poison that consumed my thoughts. I discovered that I enjoyed myself as a travel companion.

I returned renewed, refreshed, and ready to live out loud with an attitude of gratitude. A few months after I booked the cruise, I met my future and last lover. Thank you, Universe. I’m grateful.

 

Published on The Huffington Post December 14, 2015

A Message to My Son as He Prepares for College

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elaine adam CHS

 

Dear Son,

What do you mean you mailed a college application? Get back down on the floor and play with some Legos. Do you want me to make you a sandwich? Or, you can invite your friends over and we’ll order pizzas. You can stay up all night, if you want. I’ll just go cry in my room, but don’t let that bother you.

Yes, I know I can be obnoxious about mothering you, but don’t leave yet. I’m not done. We need to work on laundry and managing money. And we should have the talk — you know, the discussion about sex, drugs, alcohol, and how the world is full of mean people who could hurt you. Oh, you say you can handle everything? Then tell me, son, how do I handle this anxiety? How do I stop this gut-churning ache when I realize my only son, my last child, is walking out the door and will return as a visitor? Give me some laughs for that fact, will you?

Okay, I’m sorry for that lapse in composure. I’m really happy for you. Really. I want you to march into college and own the place. Let them know you have arrived and you’re ready to pursue enlightenment and knowledge so you can get a great job and support me in my old age. Oops. There I go again. It’s not about me, is it? This is about you. I must focus.

Because I’m a single parent and the two of us have shared this house for several years, I want to give you my best parenting advice before you drive off to the university. So, here goes:

1. Size matters. You already know this. Weighing in at 11 pounds, you were one of the biggest babies every born at the Gooding County Hospital. You were always the tallest, which made it easy to find you in a crowd of other children. You were sad at age 4 when He-Man underwear didn’t come in your size, and the teachers had to order an adult-sized desk for you in 5th grade. You were 6’6″ in high school, and you carried the load for others, as you continue to do today. Sometimes you didn’t like being so big, but many people, including me, see you now as a tall, strong, funny, handsome, and responsible hero. That’s a good thing.

2. Keep your sense of humor. No one can make me laugh like you do. Your personality is beyond gregarious and that’s why others enjoy being around you. I’ve seen you cheer up a dejected classmate, counsel a young child, coach and encourage a YMCA team, and cause your grandmother to grin. (Dementia made her grin all the time, but you brought a special twinkle to her eyes.)

3. Stay compassionate. As a two-year-old, you took care of other children at the child-care center. That special trait continued into your teenage years. Several others took advantage of you, and I know you used your wages to pay for a lot of meals, trips, and activities that other kids couldn’t afford. Keep that empathetic characteristic, but watch out for charlatans who will exploit your generosity. Learn from me.

4. Treat women as wonderful, complicated creatures who can make your life a living hell or a heavenly sanctuary. You will live in a fraternity and there will be raucous parties with coeds. Have fun, but keep your head clear and your pants zipped. Other college men won’t heed that advice, and their new nickname will be “father” or “college drop-out.” The woman you choose to marry will be lucky, indeed. Remember to compliment her, support her dreams, and be delighted in your partnership with her as you build dreams together. Plan great adventures and expect a successful marriage. And, if she ever asks, “How do I look?” always respond, “Wow! You look amazing?” Trust me.

5. Remember your roots. You were born into a family with a strong work ethic, a love of adventure, and an unwavering love for their children. I’m sorry your father and I lost the marriage, but we continued to make your sister and you our top priority. Take this experience to do better than we did.

6. Get ready to fly. The next five years will be the most important years of your life. You will go to college, get a job, perhaps get married, and maybe you’ll have children. Life will never be the same again. Take this time to savor every drop of life you can. Meet new people, visit new destinations, make some mistakes, and recover with gusto. But, please, know that if you move far away I know how to make airplane reservations. I’d like a guest room with teal-colored paint on the walls, a coffee maker, and a wine bar.

I think that’s the essential tidbits for now. You’ve got a job so you know about money. As for laundry, just wear all dark clothes so you don’t need to separate the loads. But, always wash your towels at least weekly. I might need to throw a few wet towels on the floor after you’re gone just for the memories.

Go to college, son, and remember that life can’t be one big party unless someone pays the bills and provides the clean-up committee. Be the one in charge of your own celebration of young adulthood. I’ll miss you every day, but soon I can visit you on campus. I’ll bring your favorite cookies! And a pizza. It will be just like old times.

Most of all, I will miss your laugh, so please record it for me. Remember, your first laugh was with me when you were four months old. It could have been caused by gas bubbles, but oh my, how you could laugh! Please don’t ever stop.
Love,
Mama (all alone in a big, quiet, empty house)

 

 

(Featured on The Huffington Post Fifty, August 29, 2015)

(I wrote this letter several years ago, and now the college student is a successful man with a family, a career, and a mortgage.)

 

How to Cut Out Your Ex from Your Life after Divorce

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BFF

If there’s ever a time you need a little distraction in your life, it’s during the divorce process. That’s why we launched our Divorce Care Package series. With each post, we’ll show you what things — books, movies, recipes — helped others relieve stress in the midst of divorce, in the hopes that a few of their picks will serve you well, too. Want to share what got you through your divorce? Email us at[email protected] or tweet @HuffPost Divorce

It was the simple things in life that reminded writer Elaine Ambrose she’d make it through the roughest days of her divorce: good, slightly indulgent food (hey, it’s not called comfort food for nothing); close friends and family firmly in her corner; and areally killer Tina Turner song.

Below, Ambrose, who blogs regularly for HuffPost, tells us more about the little things that helped her cope post-split.

  • The Song
  • “One of my favorite songs dates back to 1984 with Tina Turner singing ‘Better Be Good to Me.’ I played that song a lot during my divorce, and I’ll admit to fantasizing about prancing around, shaking my booty, and snapping a big whip. Yes, that song made me feel like a real badass then.”
  • The Quote
    joSon via Getty Images/Canva
    “I started a Facebook account in 2008, the same year as my divorce, and added a quote from Erma Bombeck: “When I stand before God at the end of my life I would hope that I would have not a single bit of talent left and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me.'” Even though I was divorced during midlife, I was determine to find the humor and positive potential in my life. I was thrilled in 2014 when I was chosen to perform a stand-up comedy routine at the Erma Bombeck Writers’ Workshop in Ohio.”
  • The Book
    Amazon
    “My book, Menopause Sucks, was actually released in 2008 right when I was going through the divorce. Fortunately, I had changed my married name back to my maiden name before the release, but the publisher didn’t have time to change my bio on the back cover. (What a bummer.) It still listed me as married, but at least the description didn’t include his name. Even though I’ve happily remarried, I’m not changing my name again.”
  • The Photograph
    “I love my travel photographs, but I have hundreds that include my ex. I probably won’t return to the Abu Simbel Temple in Egypt and I don’t know how to erase parts of the photos, so the cut-and-paste method will need to suffice for now. Here I am with Ramses the Great.”
  • The Movie
    “My adult daughter was instrumental in challenging me to improve my grumpy mood as I wallowed in the drama of divorce. For starters, she took me to see the movie ‘Slumdog Millionaire.’ My divorce troubles seemed to fade when compared to life in the slums of India. This powerful, colorful, and entertaining movie provided the inspiration I needed to leave my personal pity party and celebrate the opportunities in my new life.”
  • The Diet
    H. Armstrong Roberts via Getty Images
    “After my divorce, I established a no-rules, no-fault diet. If I wanted only pie and ice cream for dinner, that’s what I ate. As long as I exercised to burn off extra calories and balanced the fattening meals with salad-only dinners, I enjoyed the freedom to eat whatever and whenever I wanted. And, I only had to clean up after myself! The food freedom was liberating.”
  • The Splurge
    sf_foodphoto via Getty Images
    “One of the few joint possessions I requested from the divorce was a time share account, mainly because I had paid for it. I used the points to take my children and their spouses on a New Year’s trip to wine country in Napa Valley, California. The wine was particularly tasty as we all raised our glasses to toast a new year with exciting adventures to come. To be honest, there was a brief moment of grief because I was the odd person at a table full of happy couples, but hey, I survived just fine.”
  • The Hobby
    Ezra Bailey via Getty Images
    “As I was going through the divorce process, I started a blog as a hobby and called it ‘Midlife Cabernet.’ Since then, I’ve become a syndicated blogger and my humorous essays are featured on Huffington Post and several other websites. This year I compiled the blogs into a book and published Midlife Cabernet – Live, Love, and Laughter after Fifty. The book won the 2014 Silver Medal for Humor from the Independent Publisher Book Award Program (IPPY), and Publishers Weekly reviewed it as ‘laugh-out-loud funny.’ I believe that a good sense of humor is necessary because it’s always better to laugh than to break something or smack someone in the head.”

Midlife Cabernet: Saying “Happy Birthday” to an Ex-Father

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Scan_20140703 (2)For ten years, I enjoyed membership in a large Italian family, and they excelled in festive reunions, dramatic gestures, abundant food and drink, and naming several people Michael. After I canceled my membership by divorcing one of the Michaels, I was no longer included in the festivities. That’s another disadvantage of divorce. I really enjoyed those parties.

But, because we’re celebrating our national freedoms and because I still admire many of my former relatives, I’d like to wish a happy 90th birthday to my ex-father-in-law. He’s one of the Greatest Generation, a retired military colonel with a distinguished career, and a sassy, stubborn man who loves the dolce vita. And, he loves his six children, their spouses, and all their children and their children. And, all the aunts, uncles, and cousins. We could still be good friends, if it weren’t for that unpleasant divorce issue.

The entire extended family is gathering this weekend to celebrate his birthday. After making a comment on Facebook about wanting to be there, I received a curt message telling me to stop harassing the family, go away, and stay away. My first reaction was, “Wow. This message contains three spelling mistakes and five punctuation errors in only 66 words.”

But I don’t want to attack the writer because I admire her defense of the family and I sincerely want to apologize for offending her. However, I think she should know that at my age, there’s not a chance in hell I will change. And, I’ll probably correspond with those she told me to leave alone. In responding to caustic messages, there is a fine balance between “Bless You” and “Bite Me.”

I’m grateful that I keep in contact with my ex-sister-in-law and her charming children. Removing the in-law label still makes her a sister. Our friendship extends beyond marriage licenses. I’m not advocating divorce, especially in a loyal Italian family, but I offer an olive branch of peace to those who resent me. Preferably that branch produced extra-virgin, first cold-pressed olive oil in Italy.

There are many fond memories of my former family. I miss seeing how the nieces and nephews grew up, and I’d love to have some authentic green lasagna again. But I respect their decisions not to stay in contact with me. The last time I saw the entire group was when I sang “Ave Maria” at the funeral mass for my mother-in-law. The Italians know how to celebrate life, birth, death, and any occasion to bring the family together, open several bottles of wine, and sing, quarrel, and sing again.

I’ve joyfully remarried, and my husband continues to send birthday and Christmas greetings to his former mother-in-law because she was an important part of his life for 25 years. That’s fine because she’s a lovely woman, and she is the grandmother of his children. However, the family reunions are different now because my husband’s family contains many Southern Baptists and they don’t drink alcohol. They’re good people, and we have plenty of designated drivers.

Years ago I sat in a little restaurant in Rome, Italy with my ex-father-in-law (what a clumsy title), and we clinked glasses and shared good wine. I’ll toast him again in honor of his birthday, miles away but with earnest respect. Buon compleanno, Babbo.