Back to Just Us: Confessions, Laughter & A Fishing “Rodeo"
After a run of wonderful guests, it's finally just Vonda and Lori again — and Vonda compares it to that moment after the holidays when the extended family finally heads home and the house goes quiet. As the sign by her door says: all my visitors bring joy, some by coming, some by going. It's Mother's Day week, so by design this one stays on the pleasure side of the podcast — but tucked inside the laughter are a life-with-Lenny update, a confessions game, a customer-service story every shop owner should hear, and a check-in on those New Year's bingo cards.
The fishing "rodeo"
First, the Lenny report. Lori's dad, who has Alzheimer's, was signed up for a fishing tournament at his senior living community — billed, unhelpfully, as a "fishing rodeo," which left him genuinely unsure whether he was going fishing or to a rodeo. Lori rebranded it a tournament, and her son Reese showed up with poles and worms and quietly did what needed doing: cast the line, hand it over, reel it in, repeat. It was bittersweet — this is a man who once had a garage wall lined with fishing poles and ran trout lines every weekend — but the old knowledge still surfaced in flashes: "There ain't no fish in this pond... I don't see no minnows." (He's right; no minnows generally means no fish.) After an hour he'd had enough, declined his first-arrival prize — "I don't need no gift card" — and went home for his nap. Day by day, as Lori says. Sometimes showing up and being awake is the win.
The confessions
Then Lori pulls out an actual list of confessions and revelations she's collected about herself. Among them: she wants a farm full of animals — baby goats, sheep, chickens, all of TikTok's finest — but wants none of the work, cold, heat, or mud that comes with it. She does not like wine, which Vonda admits she deep-down knew every time Lori ordered a beer. At every family gathering she still ends up at the kids' table — by request. She can play out an imaginary scenario in her head (usually a prank on Vonda) and crack herself up alone in the car. And she cries at least twice a week — a commercial, an episode of The Pit, a hurt baby animal on TikTok — while her husband Mark glances over from his phone with the legally-required "you alright? you good?"
The sweetest confession is a business one: she loves it when Flower Clique members FaceTime her. It usually starts with a frustration and ends in laughter, and what moves her is what it signals — that members feel safe enough to want her face, not just her voice. Different members, different relationships, different love languages; the point is being the kind of person people feel safe calling.
Vonda's contribution to the confessional is a good one for every busy owner: the older she gets, the less patience she has for long stories, and she knows her abruptness could one day crush someone she cares about without her even noticing. Lori — a self-aware storyteller married to a bottom-line man — offers the counterpoint: the goal isn't to endure every story, it's to build better transitions and to read your listener. Both agree the real theme is self-awareness, and that getting older tends to make you more protective of your time and choosier about how you spend it. Or, in a phrase borrowed from one of their husbands that both hosts love: "They gave me more answer than I had a question for."
More answer than I had a question for
Which sets up the episode's cautionary tale. Lori booked a haircut online with her regular stylist, back from maternity leave — and was instantly charged, twice, for an appointment two weeks out. When she called, the owner answered mid-haircut and delivered everything except help: a long, rambling story blaming the stylist (who had nothing to do with the booking system), a complaint that he was "busy running a business," and a refusal to promise when he'd refund her. Lori canceled the appointment herself. An hour later, a front-desk employee called, refunded the charge, and explained the system glitch in thirty seconds — kind, clear, done.
Lori's takeaway for florists is blunt: imagine your website double-charging a customer for a delivery three days out, and your response being "we're busy, we can't get to it." That customer never calls again. Answer the question. Fix the charge. Save the backstory.
Bingo card check-in
Finally, the hosts pull out the yearly bingo cards they made with their members — and confess they haven't looked at them lately either. Lori is showered, dressed, and "Flower Clique dressed" three days a week; the mother-daughter trip got canceled (not her fault); two trips abroad are on the calendar; the reading goal of 30 books is sitting at two. Vonda has crossed off the Netherlands and Notre Dame, is weighing Ellie's argument for a cleaning lady (it would free up "domestic day" Saturdays for golf), and is going on more dates — including an Astros game, which counts. Their advice to everyone who made a card: these aren't boxes to check once, they're ongoing commitments. Don't look at it during Mother's Day week — but once you've decompressed, pull it out, ask "how am I doing?", and regroup before the next big thing.
Key takeaways
- With aging parents and hard seasons, lower the bar for what counts as a win — showing up is enough.
- Self-awareness is the skill under every confession: know your quirks before they cost you a relationship.
- When a customer calls with a problem, answer the question and fix it — don't give more answer than they had a question for.
- Being the safe person your clients can FaceTime is a business asset you build one answered call at a time.
- Goals only work if you revisit them: after the holiday rush, pull out your bingo card and regroup.