A Simple Life? Good Luck with That!

Shannon Kernaghan Simple-Life-400 A Simple Life? Good Luck with That! Deception Fashion Health  uncomplicated treasure simple life

I choose a simple, uncomplicated life. The proof is in my medicine cabinet. That is, you won’t find much in the way of treasure. But you will find a bottle of skin lotion. Whether or not the promise of fewer wrinkles and younger looking skin will come true, I smear my face morning and night with this fragrance-free potion.

Recently, I decided to bump up my anti-aging regime by purchasing night cream from the same line, to firm my skin while I sleep. Unless there’s concrete as a base, I’m unconvinced that anything pink and slippery is tough enough to do the trick. But then as well as being simple, I’m hopeful.

What impressed me was the plastic applicator. For the $15 bottle I’d finished, my fingers were sufficient; for the $30 jar, suddenly I need a tiny tool.

The moment I applied the cream, my eyes started to burn. What was I thinking?  This version wasn’t fragrance-free and yet I slathered myself without a care. Sadly, my skin didn’t hear the message of hopefulness. Instead, it revolted. My nose plugged and within minutes, I had the rumblings of a headache. Face washing didn’t help. The goop obviously contains those advertised fast-absorbing properties.

The only chance to rectify my loss (and rationalize a wasted purchase) was with a quick and polite HOLD THE PERFUME note to the manufacturer. I wanted them to know that their faithful consumer questions the need for so much fragrance, and because of it, I can’t use their product.

Within two weeks I received a letter with a reference number: “We are concerned about your recent experience and will share your suggestions with our Product Development and Marketing Team.”

Then a check arrived for $30. That was nice; someone was responding to my three-paragraph gripe, even though I didn’t ask for a refund or include my receipt.

A week later, another letter arrived and this time from an office in Ohio. They wanted me to fill out an Eye Incident Report on a Product Safety Surveillance form.

Incident? Surveillance?

The questionnaire’s tone was serious: how did the incident happen? Which eye was involved? What treatment was given? Was the eye rinsed and for how long? The form was so lengthy that my wrinkles were getting wrinkles and I was afraid to send it back. What’s next, a team of lawyers at my door? A news crew with mics extended?

Forget spreading fake news. Now I’m more selective about sharing a simple suggestion.

Next steps? I’m about to cross my fingers and throw salt over my shoulder for luck. I don’t want to risk hurting myself. Imagine the paperwork.ater

Audioversion song
Man
by
Rondo Brothers

Tell Your Friends

Cracked Bottoms & Missing Heads

Shannon Kernaghan Shannon-and-the-jar Cracked Bottoms & Missing Heads Culture Food Humor Lifestyle Relationship Travel  treasure pickled beets look for treasure junk finding treasure cookie jar clown cookie jar antiques

You’ve heard this before: one person’s junk is another’s treasure. I’d hoped to find some serious pickings when Paul and I traveled to an advertised swap meet. I thought swap meet equated garage sale or flea market, where everything from antiques to pickled beets would line the tables and booths.

Not at this swap meet. Grinning people carried tire rims, bumper parts and steering wheels through the parking lot. We decided to bail on the quest since our car has all the parts it deserves and besides, we were in search of different treasure.

Our quest began after a move, when we discovered that the lid to a clown-shaped cookie jar had vanished. The jar had been a wedding gift to his parents, and Paul has fond memories of sneaking cookies while his family watched TV in the living room. The lid was broken and re-glued a few times, yet that didn’t lesson the emotional value.

Obsessed with finding a replacement lid, he e-mailed every cookie jar club on the internet. He discovered a match-making site that does nothing but catalogue people seeking cookie jar parts. It’s a virtual dating site for lovelorn jars! I never knew there were so many bottomless heads and headless bottoms across the globe.

Since no matching lid turned up, my cousin suggested Paul foray into the magical land of eBay. That’s where Paul found success, and not simply once. Within a month, he had four duplicates of his cookie jar shipped from four states. Each one up for auction was in better condition than the previous, which is why Paul couldn’t resist bidding.

Between the exchange rate on the US dollar and the expense of shipping, we could have bought ourselves a new piece of furniture. Or hired a couple of real clowns who’d make cute balloon animals for us while we clapped and cheered.

“Now we can have a clown jar in every room,” Paul said with enthusiasm. Yippee. At least they’re painted in different color combinations.

When I told my cousin about our replacements, he laughed and said, “The problem is that you’re still stuck with a headless torso. It just doesn’t feel right, knowing there’s a clown head at large. That’s the stuff of nightmares.” Thanks for reminding me.

Oh well, maybe we’ll decide to move again. There’s always the chance that a certain box marked COOKIE JARS – FRAGILE might go missing.

Send in the clowns.

Enjoy a Kindle book for $2.99

Shannon Kernaghan Street-Billboard-600-4book Cracked Bottoms & Missing Heads Culture Food Humor Lifestyle Relationship Travel  treasure pickled beets look for treasure junk finding treasure cookie jar clown cookie jar antiques

 

Audio story music track
“Elevator”
by Fascinating Earthbound Objects