We’re deeply saddened to share the news that Wink Martindale, the beloved game show host known for shows like “Tic-Tac-Dough” and “Gambit,” has passed away. His warm presence on television was a staple for many, bringing excitement and joy into countless homes.

Why Wink’s Charm Endured

Wink wasn’t just a familiar face on TV; he was the comforting voice many of us grew up with. We all remember the thrill of “Tic-Tac-Dough,” the excitement of “Headline Chasers,” and the energy of “High Rollers.” But there was something particularly special about “Gambit.” Wink’s unique charm made viewers feel as if they were part of something extraordinary.

Born Winston Conrad Martindale on December 4, 1933, in Jackson, Tennessee, Wink started his broadcasting journey young, spinning records as a disc jockey at the tender age of 17, making $25 a week at WPLI in Jackson.

Wink recounted the story of how he got his famous name in a 2014 interview with ABC News: A childhood friend couldn’t pronounce “Winston,” calling him “Winky” instead. Over the years, it morphed into the name we all came to know — Wink!

Wink didn’t just stop at being a disc jockey. His television debut on “Mars Patrol,” a whimsical children’s show, marked the beginning of a legendary career in camera entertainment.

His big break came in 1972 when he hosted CBS’s “Gambit.” This role became a defining point in his career, lasting for four delightful years.

Wink and Elvis: A Special Bond

Before becoming a television icon, Wink witnessed a pivotal moment in rock ‘n’ roll history, all thanks to his friend Elvis Presley. On July 10, 1954, while giving a studio tour, Wink noticed the phones ringing off the hook during his colleague Dewey Phillips’ show. The reason? A new track by Elvis Presley, “That’s All Right,” was captivating listeners.

Having been recorded just days earlier, this song took off rapidly. With young Elvis nowhere to be found for an interview, Wink took the initiative by calling Elvis’ home. Assured by Elvis’ mother that he was at the movies, Wink urged her to bring him to the studio, making for a memorable interview that Elvis, had he realized he was live, claimed he might not have been able to do due to his shyness.

This interview wasn’t just a little anecdote; it played a crucial part in launching Elvis Presley to fame, with Wink standing right there at the beginning of it all.

Elvis Presley’s Generosity

Beyond his music, it was Elvis’s heart that truly stood out to Wink. “Elvis had a generous soul,” Wink often told people. “He donated millions to charities, not only nationwide but globally.”

Before Wink and Sandra married in 1975, she had been romantically linked to Elvis, who eventually married Priscilla. Yet, in an interesting twist of destiny, Sandra credits Elvis for bringing Wink into her life.

“Elvis is responsible for me marrying Wink,” she shared. “I always associated Tennessee with kindness because of Elvis — and Wink fit right in with that image.”

Wink Martindale’s Final Act

Even as he aged, Wink remained an active figure in entertainment. One of his last ventures was hosting a syndicated radio program, “The History of Rock ‘n’ Roll,” reminiscing about the golden hits of the 60s to 80s. At the time, Wink was 88.

Sadly, on April 15, 2025, Wink’s vibrant life journey ended. He succumbed to lymphoma in Rancho Mirage, California, surrounded by his family, leaving behind an astounding 74 years of career in Hollywood.

He is survived by his daughters Lisa, Lyn, and Laura, his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, his “honorary” son Eric, and his beloved Chihuahua, Dude.

Wink’s legacy is not only tied to the shows he hosted but also the joy he brought to our lives. As a host, he wasn’t just guiding us through games; he was inviting us to be part of the fun. Wink’s impact on television history endures, forever holding a place in our hearts. Rest in peace, dear Wink.

I noticed him the moment I turned the corner—an older man sitting at the bus shelter with a tiny round cake in his lap, candles lit and flickering in the morning breeze. No bag, no groceries, no signs of going anywhere. Just… waiting.

I almost walked past. Thought maybe he was meeting someone. But something about how still he was made me stop.

He didn’t look up right away. Just kept staring at the cake like it might tell him something he didn’t already know.

I asked gently, “Waiting for someone?”

He smiled, but not really. “No, not exactly,” he said. “I just didn’t want to sit inside all day. Figured maybe out here, someone might wish me happy birthday.”

He told me he was turning 87.

Said his daughter moved out of state.

Said the neighbors used to check in, but they’ve “got their own lives now.”

He bought the cake himself from the corner store. The cashier didn’t even ask what it was for.

“I lit the candles ‘cause it felt strange not to,” he added.

I sat down next to him. Told him I was glad he didn’t stay home. And that 87 looked good on him.

He chuckled softly and said,

“You’re the first person I’ve talked to all day.”

Then he motioned to the second plastic fork he had tucked in his jacket pocket and asked—

“Would you like to share a slice with me?”

So we did.

Right there, on a cold metal bench as cars whooshed by and strangers rushed toward whatever Monday held for them.

We ate chocolate cake with wax still soft from the candles. He told me about his old job at the post office. About how he met his wife at a church dance when he was 19. About the year they couldn’t afford presents, so they wrapped up old books and reread them together.

I asked about his favorite birthday ever.

He thought for a while. Then he smiled and said,
“Might be this one, actually. Because today, I didn’t expect anything. And then someone sat down.”

That moment will stay with me forever.

I couldn’t change his past. I couldn’t undo the loneliness. But I could make sure, just for one morning, he wasn’t invisible.

Before I left, I asked if I could take a picture of him with his cake.

He said yes—but only if I got in it too.

So we smiled. Crumbs on our coats, frosting on our hands. Two strangers made less strange by 20 quiet minutes and one store-bought cake.

And as I walked away, I heard him say, mostly to himself,
“Guess someone did care after all.”

Here’s what I’ve learned:

Sometimes people don’t want much.

Just to be seen.

To be noticed.

To have someone care enough to stop and sit.

So if you see someone waiting—with cake, or coffee, or just tired eyes—maybe sit for a while.

You might be the only one who does.

Once certified love birds, Valeria Bertinelli and Eddie Van Halen endured a rocky end to their marriage after 26 long years together.

Both would go on to remarry after their divorce in 2007, but if reports are to be believed then the candle of their love for one another never really diminished to the point of going out entirely.

Eddie Van Halen, of course, passed away tragically in 2020 after a years-long fight with cancer. Valerie, who went on to marry Tom Vitale in 2011, was left heartbroken by the loss of her ex-husband, and it would appear she has one lasting regret regarding how she said her goodbyes to the father of her only son.

Interested? Well read on for all the details concerning Bertinelli and van Halen’s long relationship, and the tearful farewell they shared …

Valerie Bertinelli actually met Eddie Van Halen all the way back in 1980, when her brothers invited her to one of his concerts in an effort to help them get backstage.

Bertinelli agreed to go as she thought van Halen was cute, but she could hardly have guessed how their paths would intertwine moving forward. She managed to get backstage that night with her brothers, and described seeing van Halen up close as love at first sight.

As fate would have it, a mere three days later, Valerie got a phone call. It was Eddie Van Halen, of all people, and he wanted to meet up with her.

Fast forward to April 11, 1981 and, after months of dating, the couple tied the knot, beginning a romance that would survive more than two decades.

In 1990, Eddie and Valerie welcomed a son, Wolfgang – named for the famous composer of the same name – but the couple were plagued by constant rumors suggesting they fought like tom cats behind closed doors.

Yet through it all, the pair stayed together, creating an image that was a big hit with fans across the world.

All told, they stayed by each other’s sides for twenty years, until 2001, when they eventually parted ways after twenty years.

It wasn’t until 2007 that their divorce was officially finalized, and Valerie revealed in 2008 the reason behind their decision to call time on their relationship.

According to Valerie, she and Eddie broke up in part due to alleged infidelities on his part, but the main reason for their separation had to do with their son, Wolfgang. As per reports, the couple found that they no longer acted like they loved one another, and they didn’t want their only child to witness that.

Years after their divorce, both Eddie and Valerie would go on to remarry. On January 1, 2011, Valerie married financial planner and entrepreneur, Tom Vitale, while Eddie exchanged vows with stuntwoman and wrestling manager Janie Liszewski on June 27, 2009, having been dating her since 2006.

Sadly, van Halen died on October 6, 2020, aged 65, after a long and protracted battle with throat cancer. The news was confirmed by his son, Wolfgang, who took to Twitter to describe his father as the best dad he could ever need.

Prior to his passing, Eddie Van Halen remained tight-lipped concerning his cancer, though he flew regularly to Germany for special treatments. While on one such trip, he reportedly bought ex-wife Valerie Bertinelli a pendant-sized gold bar, and presented it to her on Thanksgiving Day in 2019.

Sources suggest that the gift was van Halen’s way of apologizing for the mistakes he made during their twenty-year marriage, and that Valerie, too, accepted responsibility for some of their issues.

During the last few weeks of Eddie’s life, Valerie was a constant presence at his bedside in hospital, alongside Wolfgang and some of van Halen’s other loved ones. Valerie and Wolfgang are both said to have been there during his final moments of life.

For Valerie’s part, she reportedly regrets holding back and not getting closer to Halen during the years that he was sick.

Now, both were married to other people at the time, so her hands were fairly tied, but it’s fair to say there was an element of love that survived their divorce and even the following years prior to van Halen’s death.

After his death, Valerie took to Instagram to pay tribute to her ex-husband, saying that he had changed her life “forever”. Months later, she admitted she remembers only the “best” of him, and hopes that his memory will live on through Wolfgang.

I don’t know about you, but I for one miss Eddie Van Halen. He was a truly unique musician, and a fantastic entertainer to boot!

Were you a fan of van Halen’s? If so, let us know your thoughts on the legendary artist in the comments box on Facebook.

Meanwhile, share this article on social media to send love and prayers in Valerie’s direction.

“Any idea what this thing is?” the user asked. “We think it’s some sort of old-school can opener, but we really have no clue.”

Cue the digital treasure hunt.

Within hours, thousands of internet sleuths chimed in—some with genuine guesses, others with vivid (and painful) flashbacks.

One user wrote, “Old school can opener… puncture the can and lever it around to slice the lid off. Made great jagged edges. Also: metal shards, bonus feature.”

Another added, “Still have the scar from when mine slipped and jabbed me in the arm. Those things were brutal!”

And one particularly memorable comment simply said: “That thing went right through my hand once. Never again.”

So, what was it?

Turns out, the mystery tool was indeed a vintage can opener—the kind that practically came with a built-in tetanus risk.

The Can-Opener’s Cutthroat Past

Canned food came long before any bright ideas on how to open it. Early cans were practically mini fortresses, requiring brute force—or a bayonet—to crack open.

That changed in 1858, when American inventor Ezra Warner designed the first actual can opener: a lever-style tool with a sharp curved blade that could punch through tin. It worked well enough for the U.S. military during the Civil War, but was a nightmare in civilian kitchens.

In 1870, William Lyman improved things with a rotary cutting wheel—finally making it possible to open a can without a first-aid kit nearby. Still, many homes stuck with the original stab-and-slice models well into the 20th century.

Can Openers Through the Ages:

1858 – Lever-style opener: Crude, sharp, and very “poke first, ask questions later.”
1870 – Rotary opener: The beginning of smoother, safer can-opening.
Early 1900s – Keyed cans: Built-in openers—sardine tins, anyone?
1930s – Electric can openers: Fancy, but bulky.
1950s – Ergonomic handhelds: Sleek, safe, and still widely used.

Despite advances in technology, some people still swear by the dangerous old design. A few Facebook users even got nostalgic:

“Wanted to buy a new one, but can’t find them now.”
“Still the best can opener!!”
“I still have mine and use it sometimes. Dangerous bugger if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

The humble can opener might not seem like much, but its journey from a battlefield essential to a beloved (and sometimes feared) kitchen relic is a reminder that even the simplest tools have stories to tell—and sometimes scars to show for it.

Ever used one of these old-school openers yourself? Still have one tucked in a drawer somewhere? Share your experience—bonus points if you’ve got a war wound to prove it!

Bo Derek, the iconic blonde bikini bombshell of the late 70s and 80s, made a lasting impression on the world of film and fashion.

While her fame soared with her remarkable role in “10,” where she portrayed a stunning beauty with cornrow braids, Bo Derek has since ventured into different fields.

This article explores what the renowned actress has been up to in recent years and how she has transitioned from the spotlight to making a positive impact on the world.

A Diverse Career

Bo Derek’s career has spanned beyond her iconic role in “10.” While her peak fame was in the 80s, she continued working in the entertainment industry with diverse roles in film and television.

Some notable titles from her filmography include “Bolero,” “Ghosts Can’t Do It,” and “Woman of Desire.” Bo Derek also made guest appearances on popular TV shows such as “Two Guys, a Girl and a Pizza Place” and “Fashion House.”

Her versatility as an actress allowed her to explore different genres and keep audiences hooked throughout her career.

Advocacy for Animal Welfare

Beyond her acting career, Bo Derek has embraced the role of a philanthropist and advocate for animal welfare. Her love for animals led her to champion various causes related to animal rights and conservation efforts.

Focusing on wildlife and marine life, she has worked closely with organizations dedicated to protecting these creatures and preserving their habitats.

Bo Derek’s commitment to these causes goes beyond mere support; she has even served on the board of directors for some organizations. Her dedication to preserving the beauty of our planet and its creatures has won the admiration of fans and animal lovers worldwide.

A Quiet Life and Charitable Pursuits

In recent years, Bo Derek has chosen to keep a low-profile in the media. Instead, she has shifted her focus to her personal life and charitable activities.

While she may not be dominating the headlines or starring in blockbuster films like she did in her heyday, she has found fulfillment in making a positive impact on the world through her philanthropic endeavors. Bo Derek’s dedication to her causes showcases a different side of the blonde bombshell that the world first fell in love with.

An Enduring Legacy

Bo Derek’s enduring legacy in Hollywood is a testament to her versatility and impact. While she may have transitioned away from the spotlight, her commitment to creating a better world through her philanthropic efforts continues to inspire her fans and admirers around the globe.

Bo Derek’s influence extends beyond her glamorous image, as she uses her platform to make a difference in the realms of environmental advocacy and animal welfare.

Her story serves as a reminder that true beauty comes from a blend of talent, compassion, and a desire to improve the world around us.

Conclusion

Bo Derek, the renowned blonde bikini bombshell, has evolved into a philanthropic advocate for animal welfare. While her fame was at its peak in the 70s and 80s, she has continued to make a positive impact through her diverse career and her dedication to environmental causes.

Bo Derek’s enduring influence in Hollywood and her commitment to preserving the planet’s beauty make her a beloved figure in the world of entertainment and beyond. Her journey re

But that’s exactly what happened.

My name’s Henry. I’m thirty, and I’ve lived alone in my childhood home ever since my mom passed away last year. My dad left when I was a kid, so it had always just been me and her.

After she was gone, the house turned into an echo chamber.

Too quiet. Too big. Too… empty. I kept busy with work, my girlfriend, Sandra (we weren’t living together yet), and kind of just… existing. I needed more. Something to remind me that I was alive.

But that was it.

Then, on one rainy night, I saw her.

She sat hunched on the curb beneath a dying streetlamp, drenched, motionless. She was older, maybe in her late fifties or sixties, but something about her seemed off.

She wasn’t begging. She wasn’t looking around in desperation. She just sat there. Still. Contained. As if she belonged to the rain itself.

I should have kept walking to my car. I should have… but I didn’t. Something about her presence unsettled me. How was she so okay with just being in the rain?

“Hey,” I called out. “Why don’t you find shelter somewhere?”

She turned her head slowly toward me. Her face was lined with hardship, but her eyes were bright and sharp. Intelligent. Kind. They reminded me of my mother, and I knew then that she was going to come home with me.

“I’m tired of moving from shelter to shelter,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “It’s pointless, son.”

Before I even thought it through, I blurted,

“You can stay in my garage!”

She blinked at me, a small frown forming on her forehead.

“Your garage?”

I nodded.

“It’s better than it sounds,” I said. “It’s got a small room inside. Old but livable. There’s a toilet, a bed, running water. It’s messy because I haven’t been there in a year. My mother’s caregiver stayed there sometimes. I’ll clean it up this weekend, I promise.”

Her lips parted slightly, like she couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. She exhaled a short, breathy laugh.

“Well,” she murmured. “I’ve got nothing left to lose. Alright. I’ll come. I’m Dorothy.”

“I’m Henry. I just picked up some food,” I said. “Come, I’m parked around the corner.”

And just like that, I brought a stranger home.

The next morning, I let Dorothy sleep in. When we got in last night, I brought her some blankets and gave her half of the takeout I’d gotten and some snacks.

I locked the door to the main house and drove to Sandra’s apartment. I hadn’t seen her all week, and I just wanted to be with her. I also wanted to tell her about Dorothy before she came home and stumbled on the old woman herself.

“You let a homeless stranger move into your garage? Henry, what if she’s dangerous?” she shrieked, putting the kettle on.

Sandra’s voice was hushed but firm. We sat in the kitchen while she made toasted sandwiches. I could tell that she was trying hard not to sound too freaked out.

“She’s not dangerous,” I said.

“She could be,” Sandra replied with a little pout.

“She was… she needed it,” I replied. “I just helped her out. And I locked the door to the main house. If she’s really going to help herself to things, then it will only be the junk I have in the garage.”

Sandra sighed and pushed a plate toward me.

“You’re too trusting, Henry,” she said. “You need to learn to read people first. I know you’re lonely, but I told you many times—if you need to, just come here.”

“It’s not that… Look, you can meet her. I’m giving her the day to recoup because she was in a rough state last night. I gave her enough snacks last night to keep her going. And I’ll leave a basket of food again later. But I’ll go in tomorrow and check on the situation.”

“That’s if she’s still there,” Sandra said, opening a carton of milk.

“I truly don’t think that she’s as bad as you’re making her out to be, babe,” I said. “Really. Trust me on this one.”

My girlfriend sighed.

“Fine. Let’s just have brunch, and then you’re taking me to the dentist, right? I’ll come over to meet the mysterious Dorothy tomorrow.”

When I was done with Sandra and our errands, I went to the local supermarket and got bread, cheese, and other little things that I thought Dorothy would like.

At home, I packed it all into a picnic basket and left it at the garage door. I knocked, but there was no answer.

“Maybe she’s taking a nap,” I muttered.

Little did I know what I was going to see the next day.

On Sunday morning, I woke up with a weird, nagging feeling.

Dorothy had been quiet. Too quiet. She had kept to herself completely. When I had come to bed the night before, I had seen the garage light on, and the basket of food had been taken in.

But that was it. I didn’t care too much the day before, not out of ugliness, but because I just wanted to give her space.

Today, though, something told me to take a look.

I stepped outside, walked up to the garage window, and peered in.

I froze.

The garage was unrecognizable.

The clutter was gone. The old, forgotten space had been transformed into something that looked almost cozy. The dust was gone. The floor had been swept. A battered couch I hadn’t touched in years was now covered with a neatly tucked throw blanket.

A wooden crate had been repurposed into a small table, holding, of all things, a succulent. Where on earth had the plant been hiding? There were my mother’s old books, posters, and even framed pictures of my parents. It looked as though the garage was just another portion of someone’s home.

And there she was.

Dorothy.

Sitting at the table, wearing a clean, vintage-looking dress. I vaguely recognized it from a photo—it was definitely my mother’s.

Her hair was brushed back into a low bun, and she was reading a book like she was a scholar settled in a library.

She didn’t look homeless at all. She looked refined.

A chill crawled up my spine.

I pushed the door open, my voice rising involuntarily.

“Oh God! What is this?!”

Dorothy looked up, perfectly calm.

“Ah, Henry, you’re back,” she said simply.

“How… how did you do all this?” I stared at her.

She set her book down.

“I just cleaned up. It feels nice, having a space of my own again,” she gestured around. “You had some great things buried under all that mess, you know. The lamp just needed a new bulb, which I found buried in a box. And the plant? I found it outside and thought it’d brighten up the place.”

“Who are you?” I asked, my head spinning.

“That’s a long story, Henry,” she said.

“I’ve got time,” I said, smiling.

And it was true. I did have enough time for it all.

She studied me for a moment, then nodded.

“Alright. If you must know, I used to be a professor. English literature.”

“You were a professor?” I blinked. “Really?”

“Once,” she nodded. “A long time ago. Before I lost everything.”

She told bits and pieces. Like how she had once taught at a prestigious university, how she had a life full of books, students, and discussions about Shakespeare and Dickinson. And how she had an entire hallway dedicated to busts of great writers. And then, one by one, she lost it all. A series of tragedies.

I sighed, waiting for her to tell me more.

When she spoke, her voice was steady but there was something hollow underneath, like an old wound reopened just enough to sting.

“I had a family once,” she said. “A good one.”

She didn’t look at me as she continued. Maybe it was easier that way.

“My parents died first. A car crash. A truck ran a red light, hit them head-on. I was in my thirties. They were too young to go. It felt unreal, like I was standing outside my own life, watching it crumble.”

She let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it.

“It was difficult. But their deaths pushed me into my work. And later, I had my husband. And my son. Jack and David.”

Jack. Her husband. David. Her son.

Dorothy’s fingers clutched at her clothes.

“David was sixteen,” she murmured. “One night, we were out getting ice cream. It was just a simple, stupid little thing. Jack was driving. David was in the backseat, and we were laughing. It had been a good day.”

She stopped, swallowing hard.

“We never saw the guy coming.”

My chest tightened. I didn’t speak. I just let her go at her own pace.

“It was a robbery gone wrong. The shooter was running from the cops, panicked and desperate. He opened fire, random and reckless. One of the bullets hit Jack. Another… hit David.”

Silence stretched between us.

“I remember screaming,” she whispered. “I remember holding David in my arms. He was still warm. Still there. And then… he wasn’t.”

I felt sick.

She exhaled shakily, shaking her head.

“After that, I stopped being anything. I lost my job. Fell behind on payments. I stopped answering calls. Stopped caring. One day, I blinked, and everything was gone. My home. My career. My life.”

“That’s… devastating,” I said weakly.

“And I just… let it happen.”

Dorothy looked at me then, her sharp eyes filled with something deep and unreadable.

“Because when you’ve already lost everything, losing yourself doesn’t feel like much at all.”

“I’m going to make some food,” I said. “I’ll be right back. You enjoy your book. They’re all my mother’s. The dress you’re wearing, too. It’s good to see her things out again.”

Later, I took her a proper meal of pasta and garlic bread. Tea. Water. Orange juice. And proper bedding. She looked at me like I was insane.

“This is too much, Henry,” she said.

“This is not enough, Dorothy,” I replied, sitting down to eat with her.

That evening, Sandra came over to meet Dorothy.

“She’s… different than I expected,” Sandra admitted. “She’s sharp. And kind. And honestly? She’s got better grammar than both of us combined.”

“I told you,” I smirked.

Over time, Dorothy opened up more. She never asked for anything, but I could see how much it meant to her whenever I brought her small comforts.

A book. A coat. A decent meal.

Slowly, I added a mini-fridge to the garage. And a two-plate stove. I installed cupboards for food.

Within months, she had a job at the local library. Within a year, she had her own small apartment.

One night, I visited her new place. She had a cup of tea waiting for me, her books neatly stacked on shelves.

“You made it, Dorothy,” I said. “This is everything.”

“We made it, Henry,” she smiled.

And I realized then—sometimes, all someone needs is a small act of kindness. A moment where someone sees them, truly sees them, and says, You are worth saving.

Because kindness has a way of coming full circle. And if I’m being truly honest, helping Dorothy helped me. Suddenly, there was a woman who reminded me of my mother. A woman who needed my help. And once she was back on her feet? Dorothy never forgot about me.

General Information

Names and Scientific Classification

Name: Mullein

Scientific name: Verbascum thapsus

Natural Characteristics

Common mullein is a biennial plant that grows widely across the United States. Its leaves are soft and fuzzy, resembling lamb’s ear. During the first year of growth, the large leaves form a rosette near the base. In the second spring, a tall stalk emerges that can reach up to 1.2 meters or more. Yellow flowers with five petals bloom at the top of the stalk. These flowers bloom from June to September and have a faint honey-like scent.

Distribution, Harvesting, and Processing

Common mullein is cultivated throughout the United States. The leaves are harvested from the lower part of the plant and used either fresh or dried for medicinal purposes.

Usable Parts

The root, flowers, and leaves of the mullein plant are used medicinally.

Chemical Composition

The plant contains various compounds including polysaccharides, iridoids and lignin glycosides, flavonoids, saponins, phenylethanoids, and essential oils.

• Saponins: Known for anti-inflammatory, analgesic, and anti-tumor properties.
• Flavonoids: Possess antioxidant and anti-inflammatory effects.
• Phenylethanoids: Glycosides with anti-inflammatory, antioxidant, and antiviral activities.
• Iridoids: Known for anti-inflammatory effects.

Several studies have focused on the activities of verbascoside (found in many plant parts and also in Verbena), as well as mucilage and thapsic acid found in the flowers. Verbascoside may inhibit nitric oxide synthesis, contributing to antispasmodic effects.

Uses

Traditional Medicine

Common mullein has been used to manage respiratory disorders such as asthma, cough, tuberculosis, and related conditions. It has also been used in various forms to treat hemorrhoids, burns, bruises, and gout. It can be administered orally, applied topically, or used for inhalation.

In the Appalachian region of the United States, it has been used to treat colds, and the root is boiled as a remedy for lung cancer. The leaves have been applied externally to soften and protect the skin, while oil extracted from the flowers is used to treat laryngotracheobronchitis. The saponins, mucilage, and tannins in the flowers and leaves may contribute to its soothing properties and use as a cough suppressant.

Modern Medicine

There are no clinical studies confirming the therapeutic effects of common mullein. However, animal research data suggest antibacterial, cytotoxic, and anti-inflammatory properties.

Anti-inflammatory Activity

Animal studies show that mullein extracts can promote wound healing.

Antibacterial and Anthelmintic Activity

In vitro studies show that common mullein is effective against several viruses (including influenza and herpes simplex) and common human pathogens. It has shown effects on both Gram-positive and Gram-negative bacteria (e.g., Klebsiella pneumoniae, Staphylococcus aureus, Staphylococcus epidermidis, and Escherichia coli).
The methanolic extract of V. thapsus has shown anthelmintic activity, with parasite-killing rates comparable to albendazole.

Ear drops containing extracts from mullein have been used to treat ear infections in animals.

Anticancer Activity

In vitro data indicate that mullein extract has activity against various cancer cell lines.

Antiviral Activity

Laboratory studies show antiviral effects against influenza A and herpes. Another study demonstrated that combining mullein with amantadine enhances its antiviral effects against influenza.

Other Activities

Diuretic effects of mullein extract have been demonstrated in mice.
The plant also exhibits cholinesterase inhibition and antioxidant activity.

Dosage and Administration

There are no clinical studies on precise dosage; however, traditional usage suggests 3 to 4 grams of flowers per day, and 15 to 30 ml of fresh leaves or 2 to 3 grams of dried leaves.

Oil extracted from the flowers or leaves is used as a remedy for earaches, eczema, and other skin conditions.

Precautions

Common mullein may cause contact dermatitis, a skin reaction resulting in itching, rashes, and irritation. People with sensitive skin or prone to allergic reactions should perform a patch test before use.

Only use common mullein for severe earaches or infections under a doctor’s guidance.

There are no studies on the safety or efficacy of mullein or its extracts for pregnant or breastfeeding women, and thus it should not be used in these populations.

Though common mullein originates in the U.S. and possesses various medicinal benefits. Therefore, it should be used cautiously and only under medical advice regarding appropriate dosage and treatment conditions.

Get ready to test your observation skills with a visual brain teaser that’s trickier than it looks. At first glance, the image appears chaotic, filled with overlapping shapes, colors, and background details. But hidden within this visual clutter are four specific objects: a whistle, an egg, a brush, and a flower. Think you’ve got what it takes to spot them all?

This kind of optical illusion puzzle isn’t just fun—it also gives your brain a mini workout. You’ll need sharp focus, keen attention to detail, and a bit of patience. These puzzles are great for improving concentration and visual recognition skills. And honestly, once you find each item, it’s super satisfying.

The Challenge: Find the Four Hidden Objects

So, here’s the task: scan the image closely and locate the following four objects hidden somewhere within the scene:

A whistle

An egg

A brush

A flower

They’ve been cleverly blended into the background, which makes them easy to miss if you’re not careful. You might see something that looks like a part of the scenery—but it could actually be one of the hidden objects in disguise.

The key is not to rush. While the challenge is timed for fun—many people try to find all four items in under 30 seconds—don’t worry if you take longer. This isn’t about speed; it’s about spotting the nearly invisible.

Ready, Set, Search!

Before you start, take a deep breath and focus. The best strategy is to scan the image section by section. Some people find it helpful to zoom in (if you’re on a screen) or to squint slightly to let shapes and outlines pop out more easily. Others try looking at the image upside down to force a fresh perspective.

Now, here’s your mission: find the whistle, egg, brush, and flower. Go ahead—give it a shot. Set a timer if you want to make it more exciting!

Still Searching?

Don’t worry if you’re still looking—it’s called a brain teaser for a reason. Most people can’t find all four objects right away. In fact, even some of the best puzzle-solvers we know have needed a hint or two. These types of puzzles are specifically designed to trick your eyes and your brain into overlooking the obvious.

That’s why they’re so fun—and so frustrating!

Want the Answer?

Alright, if you’ve spent a good amount of time and still can’t find everything, you’re not alone. This is one of the more challenging hidden-object puzzles we’ve come across. In fact, no one in my family could figure it out without help—and that includes people who do these puzzles all the time!

So if you’re ready to stop searching and start seeing, scroll down to check out the answer. We’ll show you exactly where the whistle, egg, brush, and flower are located in the image. Once you see them, you’ll wonder how you missed them in the first place.

But don’t worry—this kind of visual puzzle is designed to fool your brain with distractions. It’s completely normal to miss objects on the first (or even second or third) try.

“𝗔𝘀 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝘀 𝗜 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗷𝗼𝗯, 𝗜’𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗶𝘁𝘆. 𝗜 𝘄𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲,” he thought.

As he was leaving, his father gave him some advice:
“Answer every question with confidence. Even if you don’t know the answer, speak with certainty.”
And then… gave him more money than necessary for the interview.

At the interview center:
• The door was wide open — he closed it gently.
• The hose was running — he adjusted it.
• Lights were on during the day — he turned them off.
• Doormat upside down — he fixed it.
• Fans blowing over empty chairs — he switched them off.

𝗢𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗱!𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱…

When he finally entered the room, the interviewer said:
“𝗪𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀. 𝗪𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗶𝗻 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀.”
“𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗼 𝗰𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿, 𝗳𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲, 𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗳𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀, 𝗮𝗱𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘀𝗮𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 — 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂. 𝗧𝗵𝗮𝘁’𝘀 𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱.”

𝗜𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗺𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁, 𝗵𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲𝗱 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿’𝘀 “𝗻𝗮𝗴𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗴” 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗼𝗻𝘀.
𝗛𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 — 𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁𝗲𝗿.
He smiled, grateful, and decided:
“I’m bringing Dad with me. We’ll live together.”

𝗘𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘂𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱.
𝗔 𝗿𝗼𝗰𝗸 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻’𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗹𝗽𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘀𝗲𝗹.
𝗧𝗼 𝗯𝗲𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗽𝗲𝗼𝗽𝗹𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘃𝗮𝗹𝘂𝗲, 𝘄𝗲 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗮𝗰𝗰𝗲𝗽𝘁 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲.

𝗔 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘀 𝗮 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱, 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁, 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲.
𝗔 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱 𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱.

𝗪𝗲 𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗮 𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻,
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗮 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿’𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗻 𝗶𝗻𝘃𝗶𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 — 𝗼𝗻𝗹𝘆 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗮𝗹 𝗶𝘁.

𝗔𝘁 𝟱, 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗿
𝗔𝘁 𝟮𝟬, 𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗮 𝘃𝗶𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗻
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲… 𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝗱𝗲.

𝗠𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘆 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱𝗿𝗲𝗻…
𝗕𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗳𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘁𝗼 𝗮𝘀𝗸 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁.
𝗗𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝗶𝘁’𝘀 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲.
𝗖𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆’𝗿𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲. 𝗛𝘂𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺. 𝗔𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺. 𝗔𝗹𝘄𝗮𝘆𝘀.
𝗧𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝗳𝘁𝘀.

𝗣𝗮𝗿𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗹𝗶𝗳𝗲 𝘀𝘂𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗼𝗲𝘀. 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁.
𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵, 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

I asked my daughter once:

*Why don’t you want me to come? I could help with the kids…*

For illustrative purpose only
*Mum, you know how it is… My husband doesn’t like you. You’re always interfering, and your way of talking—*, she answered.

I fell silent. Hurt, shame, resentment twisted inside me. I wasn’t forcing my way in—I just wanted to be near them. And the answer was: *He doesn’t like you.* Not the grandkids, not my children. I’ve been erased. Even my ex-husband, who lives in a village nearby, can’t find time to meet. Once a year, a curt holiday text. Like he’s doing me a favour.

As I retired, I thought: *Finally, time for myself.* I’d take up knitting, go for morning walks, sign up for that painting course I’d always dreamed of. But instead of joy, dread moved in.

First came the strange spells—sudden dizziness, my heart racing, a fear of dying that gripped me out of nowhere. I went to doctors, had tests, ECGs, MRIs. All normal. One finally said:

*It’s all in your head. You need to talk to someone. You’re just lonely.*

That was worse than any diagnosis. As there’s no pill for loneliness.

At times, I go to the shop just to hear the cashier speak. Sometimes, I sit on the bench outside my flat, pretending to read, hoping someone might stop. But everyone’s in a hurry. Places to be, lives to live. And I’m just… here. Sitting. Breathing. Remembering.

What did I do wrong? Why did my family turn away? I raised them alone. Their father left early. I worked double shifts, cooked, ironed uniforms, stayed up nights when they were ill. No drinking, no running around—I gave them everything. And now? I’m nothing to them.

Maybe I was too strict. Maybe I controlled too much. But I wanted what was best for them—to grow up decent, responsible. I kept them from bad crowds, from ruining their lives. And in the end? I’m the one left behind.

I’m not asking for pity. Just answers. Am I really that terrible a mother? Or is this just how it is now—mortgages, schools, football clubs, and no room left for Mum?

People tell me: *Find a man. Join a dating site.* But I can’t. I don’t trust. Years alone have made me hard. I’ve no strength left to open up, to fall in love, to let a stranger into my home. My body isn’t what it was.

Working’s no escape anymore. At least at the office there was chatter, jokes. Now? Silence. So loud I leave the telly on, just to hear a voice.

Sometimes I ask myself: if I just vanished, would anyone notice? Not my kids, not my ex, not the neighbour from the third floor. The thought chokes me with tears.

But then I get up. Make tea. Tell myself: *Maybe tomorrow. Maybe someone will remember. Call. Text.* Maybe I still matter to someone.

As long as hope’s alive, so am I.