Lost in Vienna

This past September, my parents traveled to Europe.

First of all, imagine what it must be like traveling with my mom to a different country. She insists on bringing a hot pot so she can continue cooking in hotel rooms. She asks her helpers to pack all sorts of fruits and vegetables for them, despite the family's repeated experiences of having to eat everything at customs or throw it all out upon arriving at the destination country.

And my poor father, now he has to travel alone with my mom.

My parents continued to use their iPhones in Europe, despite whatever exorbitant fees they ended up paying. So once in a while, I would get text messages from them. But imagine my surprise (or should I have been surprised?) when I received this one.

DAD: I cannot find mom please help.

What???

ME: Where are you? What happened? Did you try Find My Friends?

DAD: We are in Vienna. Mom get mad and run off. Her phone off.

ME: Dad, I can't help you from here. Is she at the hotel? Try the local authorities, and if they can't help, the US Embassy.

....

Twelve or so hour later, I texted him again.

ME: Did you find mom?

DAD: Yes.

I got the full story later. Apparently, they were at a cafe, and even though it was busy, they were loitering about and taking their time. Since my mom is super cheap, she was slowly sipping at a glass on wine (at this point in the story, I exclaimed, "Mom was drinking wine?!?!") and my dad was nursing a beer. The waiter was fed up with them taking up space and not buying anything, so brought my dad another beer even though he hadn't asked for it. My mom, furious at my father for ordering another beer, stormed off. She even turned off her cell phone so my dad couldn't reach her. But they found each other again eventually, and I wish I could tell you that they lived happily ever after.

I mentioned this story again a few months later, and my mom denied that she had been drinking wine. So who knows what actually happened...

Wednesday Photo-day

My dad showing off high fashion hiking wear in his Cerveza jersey and his button-down shirt stuffed under his cap for addition sun protection. Oh, and those are Transition lenses- he wore them for my wedding and subsequently looked baller while walking me down the aisle.

Oh yeah.

My mom, also exhibiting the latest trends in hiking-appropriate clothing: a tennis skirt, my old P.E. shirt from junior high (somebody has been raiding the bags I've set aside for Goodwill!!!), and a button down blouse. This trend of wearing button down blouses as sun protective gear has led to my sister and I buying my mom actual UPF button down shirts- one of the few gifts that she actually uses. However, she will often misplace the shirts we've bought her and go back to wearing filmy long sleeved button down blouses- as in the type most people would wear in combination with a nice skirt to go to work.

Happy Wednesday, folks!

Drought

As many of you know, California is heading toward an epic drought.

Snowpack comparison between 2013 and 2014. (Source.)

You should all know that my mother is doing her part to combat drought in California. I called her the other day while California was getting "lots" of rain and she was bragging about how she had large wastebaskets out in the backyard and had collected several gallons of water already.

Why waste the water coming off your roof?

See, because I had sent a spy out to LA a few months ago, I already knew that my mom was collecting rain water. In fact, she is so serious about this, that she hired somebody to dig huge holes in the backyard so she could put water collection barrels to collect the runoff from the roof gutters.

My family lived in California during the great drought of the late 1980s and early 1990s, so we know how it's done. How are you doing your part to conserve water?


(Disclaimer: This post is entirely tongue in cheek. My mom doesn't give a crap about conservation. But she DOES care about money- at least when it has to do with the water bill (not when it has to do with airline baggage fees, though...) And water gets expensive during a drought. The best example of this: whenever we traveled as kids, my mom would always take a bath every night because she didn't have to pay for water. Things haven't changed. The first time she visited me at my condo, she first asked if we pay for water, and we don't- the HOA does, so she took a bath every night she was here.)

Lost in the Woods, Part 3

My mom hiking in nice smoggy LA

As chronicled here, and here, my mom got this crazy idea to train to climb Mount Whitney, but since she is unable to get out of the house early enough or use a map, she leaves late and gets lost.

Remember when I made my mom promise that she'd never do it again?

I was on call in the Surgical ICU one night when I got another text message from my dad. Again, my parents had gone out hiking and had headed out in the late afternoon for a long hike. My mom had forged ahead without my dad, and it was again, many hours past dark, and my mother was nowhere to be found.

Fortunately, my dad did have cell reception at this trailhead, since I was taking care of sick patients and unable to coordinate the search efforts from Utah again.

Around midnight, Search and Rescue was called out, and searched briefly... and around 2am, I got another call from my dad, saying that they had called the search off. The weather was good- in the low 60s, so if my mother was still out there, she would be fine through the night.

Fine through the night?! But what if she had fallen and gotten hurt??? Or attacked by a mountain lion??? But there was nothing I could do. I continued taking care of my sick patients and tried to ignore the fact that my mom was out in the middle of the wilderness in the middle of the night.

Finally, we were on morning rounds when I got a text from my dad that they had found my mom. Relieved, I let out a "Oh thank God" in the middle of rounds, prompting my attending to pause rounds and look at me.

"Oh, my mom's been missing all night and they just found her."

"JESUS, Alice, that's been going on all night and you haven't told us?!" He had been on call with me all night.

I guess I hadn't explained that this was quickly becoming a commonplace occurrence.

I called her a few hours later and she got upbraided by an irate and post-call daughter for doing exactly what she had promised not to do. Apparently she had tried to head back early enough (apparently NOT early enough...) and had gotten lost in the impending darkness. She had found a group of hikers who were camping out for the night and joined their campfire until day broke so she could head back down to the trailhead. But I got this explanation a lot later. I was too mad (and too post-call) to listen to a thing she was telling me the first time around.

The RV

For some reason, more than 10 year ago, my mom decided to buy an RV. She had dreams of traveling around the States with her own traveling kitchen- despite the fact that the only RV vacation we had ever been on together was a disaster.

So we bought an RV.

The RV, parked outside our house.

The thing is, my mom never followed through on planning any trips in the RV. So it sat in our driveway for years. The furthest it's been driven is from our old house to our new house when we moved. So what do you do with an RV in your driveway?

First off, make sure you put cardboard under the wheels. In a pinch, cinder blocks or scraps of 2x4 would work too.

Next, I'm sure you were previously unaware, that unused RVs work very well as storage space. Which is precisely what the RV has become. A large, somewhat portable, storage unit that sits in our driveway.

Perfectly normal, right?

Lost in the Woods, Part 2

Remember that time when my mom got lost and ended up atop her "own" mountain? Well, undeterred, she still continued doggedly to train for her Mount Whitney summit bid. (Warning: long but funny story ahead with no photos- sorry!)

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It was well past bedtime (read: 11pm for this surgery resident) in Salt Lake City when I got a text from my dad in California.

DAD: Can you please call search and rescue. Your mom and I go on hiking she is not come back.

Huh?

I called, but he didn't pick up. I tried again. And one more time. Finally he picked up. He sounded frantic.

"Dad? What's going on?" I asked.

"Your mother!" He proceeded to tell me a long story about how "you know your mother!" She had picked out an 8-mile hike but they hadn't gotten to the trailhead until 4pm. She and my dad had headed out together, but again, because my dad hikes too slowly, my mom had ditched him and forged on ahead. Once it started getting dark, he had turned around and headed back to the trailhead, where he had waited for her for hours well after dark. Getting worried, he had tried to call for help, but didn't have any reception. He had driven several miles from the trailhead just to get reception to text me. He had tried to call my mom too, but either she didn't have reception either or her phone was dead. He wanted me to call Search and Rescue so he could head back up to the trailhead and wait, just in case my mom turned up.

"Okay, Dad. Where are you?" I asked.

He then proceeded to describe how they had gotten there, but couldn't tell me a name of a trailhead or any mile markings. I Google Map'ed the location he had mentioned, but couldn't see any marked trailheads or hikes on the map. But he said that one of my mom's hiking friends had told her about the hike. I called him back again, but he didn't pick up. He must have already headed back to the trailhead.

Sigh.

So remember Kay Maser from the previous story? Thankfully, her email signature had included a phone number. So I gave her a ring.

"Hi... is this Kay? My name is Alice. I'm Jan's daughter? I'm really sorry for calling so late..."

"Yes, this is Kay."

"So, my mom is still out hiking and my dad can't find her. He's been waiting for her at the trailhead for a while but doesn't have any reception. He said that somebody from her hiking group had told her about the hike? Would you happen to know where she is?"

"Yes, I suggested that she do The 8-mile Hike* today. What time is it? 11pm?! She's still out there???"

I explained how my parents had started off late again, how my mom had ditched my dad again, and how now my dad had been waiting for my mom for hours. Kay said that she would try to help. I got off the phone with her and began Googling the phone number for Search and Rescue in Southern California. No luck.

So I dialed 9-1-1. Sort of an emergency, right?

"9-1-1, what is your emergency?"

"Hi, I need to reach Search and Rescue, but not in Utah. In the LA area? My mom is out hiking and she hasn't come back."

I got transferred back and forth, with all parties being confused as to exactly under whose jurisdiction my mother was located. Finally, I was on with Search and Rescue for the Wrightwood area and they said that they would dispatch a team to look for her. Kay had reached them too- the officer I was speaking with said that another woman was also searching for an Asian woman measuring about 5'4".

I had spent more than an hour on the phone, worried sick. My phone beeped, and I looked at it- another call from my dad. Telling the officer to hold, I took the call.

It was my mom on the phone.

"MOM?!?! Are you okay? Where's dad?"

"Dad is here, he is driving so I am on the phone."

"What? Where are you?"

"We coming down the mountain now in car."

"So Dad found you? You're okay."

"Yes, of course. He always so over-reacting."

"MOM, I CALLED SEARCH AND RESCUE THEY ARE HEADING OUT TO FIND YOU!!! ... Hold on."

I switched the call back to Search and Rescue. "Hi... sorry. That was my mom. She returned to the trailhead and she and my dad are heading home now. I'm really sorry for the trouble... could you please tell Kay that she is okay... Thank you so so much for your help. Yes. Um, thanks again. And sorry. Goodbye..."

I hung up, switched back to my mother and then proceeded to thoroughly berate her for worrying us sick, keeping me up half the night on the phone with Search and Rescue, and made her promise never, ever to do this again- and that if she were going to go hiking, that she needed to plan ahead and start early.

"Yes, yes yes. Next time, yes," she promised. "Your father, he always is over-reacting. No one need to Search and Rescue."

I banged my head against the wall a few times, thanked God that my mom was safe, and then finally went to bed.

*I unfortunately do not remember the name of the hike or trailhead. =(

The Chicken-y Cutting Board

My mom has been long forbidden to touch anything in my kitchen, for a variety of reasons going back since I was in college. So, when they come to visit, usually either myself or my sister is watching her like a hawk to make sure she isn't trying to do something like sneak vegetables into our soups or put my knives back without cleaning them.

One of these visits, I was preparing a chicken, sausage, and white bean soup. It's a great wintertime slow cooker recipe, and I was trying it for the first time. The ingredient list called for fennel, which was a vegetable I had never cooked with before.

The strange vegetable known as fennel.

Being most familiar with Asian cooking throughout childhood, this was an ingredient I had never cooked with before. Thankfully, my cookbook had thoughtfully included a section on how to prepare a fennel bulb for use. As instructed, I cut off my fennel bulb's leafy frondy stalks, and discarded them in the trash. I then took out another cutting board and cubed the chicken breast. As the chicken was browning, I took my chicken-y cutting board and knife and stuck them in the sink to be washed.

"Ach! What's this?" I then heard my mom exclaim. She was looking in the trash bin.

"What?" I asked.

"This! So much in trash- so wasteful!" She held up some fennel stalks, having picked them out of the trash.

"Mom, that's fennel. That part isn't edible. You can cook fish on top of them or use the leaves for seasoning, but I don't have any plans for that before they'd spoil," I explained. Puzzled by the prospect of throwing so much greenery away, I had looked it up myself before I had started cooking.

"Mmm..." she muttered.

I turned back to cooking, turning the chicken cubes to brown and adding in more vegetables. When I turned around again, my mom was on the other side of the kitchen with her fennel stalks, using my chicken-y cutting board and my chicken-y knife from the sink to cut the fennel stalks into pieces. And then sticking those pieces raw into her mouth.

"MOM!" I yelped. "You can't do that! I cut chicken on that cutting board with the knife!"

My mom looked up. "What? Why not?"

Incredulous, I asked, "Why not?! Haven't you heard of Salmonella?! You're going to get sick!"

"Nooo," she scoffed. "I have a strong immune system." She continued working at the fennel with the knife and putting pieces of it in her mouth.

"Mom..." I started.

"Ai, you worry too much," she interrupted me.

I sighed and continued cooking, thinking to myself that this was yet another reason why she was not allowed in the kitchen.

Salmonella! (Source.)

As a side note, she didn't get Salmonella. Lucky for her. Although in a perverse way, I wish she had, because then I WOULD HAVE BEEN RIGHT!!! (But she would not have learned a lesson from it, because she is incapable of learning from life experiences...)