Battling my personal lemons

I keep seeing featured in the JCPenney ad the red loveseat Jim and I bought just after moving into our house. Because we have so many stairs, we needed a spot for his mom to sleep on the main level when she visited, and the loveseat was the perfect solution because it pulled out to a single bed but would look fine the rest of the time as a loveseat in the study.

Well, each time I see it in the ad I cringe because that loveseat is The. Most. Uncomfortable. Piece. Of. Furniture. Ever. At least in the "loveseat" configuration. (I've never slept on it as a bed; the few who have haven't complained).

Unfortunately that little loveseat expenditure is not the only unwise purchase we've ever made. Here are a few others:

Boxed gnocchi. One of my goals this year is to try out more recipes instead of relying on old standbys. What I've learned so far: boxed gnocchi = yucky. Jim agrees.

Our hot tub. We bought a hot tub at our old house and the girls used it more than we did. We left it when we sold our house because our new house has one. Jim's never been in it; I've only been in it once ... when I fell in it by accident. We clean it, fill it, keep it chemical-ed up -- we just never use it.

Cheri, starring Michelle Pfeiffer. This one's not technically a purchase as it was a Netflix movie rental, so it didn't really cost us any money. But it did cost us time -- and it was the biggest waste of our time ever.

My Reebok EasyTone walking shoes. Both my doctor and physical therapist call them a "gimmick" -- and attribute a portion of my current disc trouble to them.

Black & Decker appliances. Toasters, food processors, mixers, coffee pots. Many throughout the years. None worked correctly or for very long. Why did it take me years -- and lots of money -- to realize B&D may be good at making tools but they stink at small appliances?

Smooth-Away. Yeah, an infomercial sucked me in. I bought FOUR -- one for each of the girls and myself. (Well ... they were BOGO, for heaven's sake!). Never again.

Squiggles. I thought I'd amaze Bubby with the magical squirmy thing. I couldn't get it to squirm or squiggle ... but Bubby did enjoy dragging it around on its string as if it were a trained caterpillar.

Keurig 'My K-Cup' insert. Megan and Preston kindly bought us a Keurig for Christmas. We drink a lot of coffee and thought the insert would be nice for using our own coffee instead of the K-Cups. Um, no. We'll stick with the K-cups. (It does work well, though, for using a tea bag to brew a single cup of tea.)

Photo: flickr

Today's question:

What is on your list of unwise purchases?

Ramble on

Nothing incredibly profound here today, just a few of the ramblings rumbling 'round my noggin:

• Bubby has been honing his sense of humor and it's an unending pleasure to witness. Tuesday night's Skype session included Bubby telling PawDad and me the name of his soon-to-arrive brother. He got Mommy's goat by insisting again and again ... and again ... that the baby's name is Bubba. Yep, BUBBA. He giggled gloriously throughout the entire tease.

• One of the hazards of not working a regular job is the lack of face time with a calendar. With several physical therapy appointments scheduled with two different therapists -- appointments written on the calendar -- it's possible for one to think they have an appointment and show up for it only to be told that particular appointment is actually the following week. Same day, same time, just the next week. Trust me, it can happen. And did. To me. Yesterday.

• I just don't have it in me to Twitter and tweet enough to raise my Klout score. Tell me, do I really need Klout?

• Speaking of Ramble On, it used to be that Led Zeppelin rarely -- if ever -- granted permission for their songs to be used in movies and such. In the last few weeks, Jim and I have heard Zeppelin several times in the background (or foreground) in movies and television shows. The Beatles on iTunes, Zeppelin on soundtracks ... sheesh, what's the world coming to?

• Ever wonder how the real Christopher Robin Milne felt about being the model for Christopher Robin in his father's Winnie-the-Pooh books? Probably much like fictional Luke Hayman did serving as the model for the even more fictional Luke Hayseed of "The Hayseed Chronicles" series in Mr. Toppit by Charles Elton, the book I most recently finished ... and enjoyed immensely.

• If you have money to spare and decide to purchase a few domain names from GoDaddy in hopes of later selling those domains for a pretty price, be sure to set the renewal option to "manual" so domains you haven't sold and no longer want don't renew automatically at a time when you no longer have money to spare. Trust me, it can happen. And did. To me. Yesterday. At a time when I no longer have money to spare. To the tune of $172.

• As I mentally prepare for the next semester as site coordinator for the Children's Literacy Center, I think about all the 7-pound-3-ounce curriculum books (true weight each, per my postage scale) I need to move from one site to another. Light bulb moment: I realize that it was after moving a bucket of 10 from the site to my garage at the end of the last session that the pain in my back intensified, initiating my call to the physical therapist. Light bulb moment #2: Mickey wasn't the sole cause of my current disc issues after all. So I hereby publicly apologize to Mickey for blaming him and calling him a cusshead. (But ... if he hadn't freaked in the face of the deer, my back likely would have been okay lugging the books. Maybe.)

• Which reminds me: An apology followed by a but is no apology at all. So amend that apology to "I'm sorry, Mickey, for placing all the blame for my cussed-up back on you."

• Where oh where is the humor in the fact after 20 years of writing picture-book manuscripts I finally, finally, finally get an agent for those books ... just as the death knell inarguably begins ringing for the picture-book market? There is no humor in it. Trust me.

• Three weeks from today I'll be flying to the desert to babysit Bubby for a few days while Mommy and Daddy attend a convention in California. The anticipation has addled my brain, rendering me incapable of formulating a coherent and cohesive post consisting of anything more than bulleted ramblings. I'll try again tomorrow.

Today's question:

What's at the top of your list of Thursday thoughts, rambles, rants?

Update

on 2011-01-13 20:10 by Lisa Carpenter

UPDATE on GoDaddy charge: Woo-hoo! I sucked it up, called GoDaddy and told them I'm stupid, and a wonderfully nice man named Bill told me "GoDaddy will take care of you" and reversed the $172.44! Yeah! GoDaddy rocks!

Bound to happen

Well, it's finally happened: I've gotten old. I've not come to that realization because of my wrinkles, my achy joints or my crotchety disposition of late, but because of how freakin' young those in the medical profession now seem to me.

My eyes began to open to this truth when noticing that doctors interviewed as experts on various news programs regularly caused Jim and me to comment, "Wow, that's a young one" and "Sheesh, has that kid really actually completed medical school?" Only old people say such things. Hence a conclusion began to form: I'm just old.

Then I started physical therapy to repair the damage from little cusshead Mickey pulling me into a face plant when a deer nonchalantly crossed our path during a walk a few months ago. My regular doctor referred me to a fine physical therapist. I read her impressive credentials (she's one of the physical therapists for the US Figure Skating team) then was shocked upon meeting her at my first appointment. She looks the same age as my youngest daughter! There's no way she could be just 25 since she's been practicing since the early '90s. She's performing miracles on my back and has clearly worked hard and long to get where she is in her career, so my conclusion is this: I'm just old.

The final incident relates to Megan's medical scare this past week. Because of the fortunate outcome of a worrisome circumstance, Megan gave thanks and gratitude to her ob/gyn on a recent blog post, a post that included a photo of the doctor. I have never met her doctor and I was amazed at how young this gal is -- this gal who holds the lives of my child AND my grandchild in her hands. Yet, her expertise in the field and the way she's proved herself exceptionally capable lead me to now stand firm in my conclusion: I'm just old.

When I first became a mother, doctors were older folks whom I looked upon with respect and admiration, much as I would a wise grandparent. As the years went by, doctors seemed a little more my age, like a colleague or friend or at least someone who enjoyed the same music and television shows as I did and understood the same pop culture references.

Now, all of a sudden, the doctors I come across are youngsters, many years behind me and certainly not interested in the same music or television shows that interest me. And I don't even seem to know what constitutes pop culture anymore, let alone share any references to it with today's doctors.

My only conclusion: I'm just old.

My only question: How the heck did that happen?

Photo: MS Office  

Today's question:

In what ways do you most notice you're getting older?

Top smiles of 2010

The end of a year begs for lists, so despite sharing a list with you yesterday, I'm here with another today. This time it's ... 

My top 9 smile-inducers of 2010

Bubby. Always. In all ways!

Jim's support, with comments such as, "You really shouldn't try to get a job. Keep writing. I have a feeling things are going to take off for you this year."

Brianna moving into her own first home ... which was the first home Jim and I owned ... which was a weensy bit weird ... yet wonderful.

Signing with an agent. A real NYC agent. (Stay tuned for the miles o' smiles when she gets my work accepted for publication!)

My splendiferous end-of-summer adventure with Bubby.

Andrea getting an awesome new position that makes the most of her people skills and winning ways.

 Megan and Preston announcing that baby No. 2 -- grandson No. 2! -- is on his way. Hip-hip-hooray!

Celebrating Thanksgiving with my entire immediate family for the first time in several years.

Grandma's Briefs readers. Grandma's Briefs Facebook friends. Grandma's Briefs Twitter followers. That's you ... and you ... and YOU!

I can't wait to see what calls forth all the sure-to-come smiles in 2011. Whatever they may be, I look forward to sharing them with you.

Happy New Year! Best wishes for peace, prosperity, love -- and lots of smiles -- for all in 2011!

Today's question:

What brought you smiles in 2010?

9 things I will NOT do in 2011

While lots of folks are making lists of all the things they plan to do in the new year, I'm taking the other tack and offering up 9 things I will not do in 2011:

1. I will not give up coffee. You can't make me, you can't make me, you can't make me.

2. I will not join a gym. At least not until I'm in better shape.

3. I will not become an alcoholic, a position covered quite well by plenty of people around me. As Mattie Ross said in the original True Grit, "I won't put a thief in my mouth to steal my brain." (That doesn't mean, of course, that I won't let a thief borrow my brain now and then; lending it out on occasion can be quite enjoyable when in the right company.)

4. In the same vein, I will not be an enabler for those around me who allowed their brains to be stolen. And I will not be an enabler of the enablers who are enabling those with missing brains to death. Literally.

5. I will not get too serious on this blog. Or too revealing. Or too personal. Most of the time.

6. I will not snigger or snort at whatever name Megan and Preston choose for my second grandson. Unless it's BillyBobJoeDon. Or Ashton. Or SkippyJon Jones (thanks, Mrs. Mayhem).

7. I will not get frustrated while trying to improve my photo-editing skills. And photo-taking skills. Okay ... I will not lie, either, so disregard what I just said about photos.

8. I will not give up -- on my books, my blog, my bank account. Or my dreams of the lives my girls should be leading. Or my dream of winning PCH ... or the lotto.

9. I will not make resolutions. At least not those that I'm darn-shooting sure from the get-go that I won't come within spitting distance of accomplishing.

Photo: Petr Kratochvil

Today's question:

What will you NOT do in 2011?

Moving to the limbo beat

I hope everyone's Christmas was wonderful in ways above and beyond what was expected. Mine was beautiful ... and easier than usual, for some reason. I'm not sure if I'm fretting less the older I get or maybe I've just made peace with our leaner lifestyle -- in terms of money, not weight, unfortunately -- but it was a lovely holiday all around. Despite family drama. Despite fewer pennies to rub together. Despite Megan, Preston and Bubby celebrating on their own 819 miles away.

Yes, all was merry and bright for Christmas 2010. Now it's on to limbo time, aka the week between Christmas and New Years Day. The seven days between "holiday mode" and "regular programming."

After the hustle and bustle of Christmas, it always feels a tad unnerving to just STOP the madness and float along in the dead space of the last week of the year with nothing on the agenda. At least my agenda. I have no real work for now. No decorations to take down yet. No returns or exchanges to make. No plans to shop for deals on gifts or decor for next Christmas.

I also have no plans to finish any of my multitude of half-finished things, whether that's half-finished in my mind, on my desk, or around the house. One week isn't enough to wrap up all I meant to accomplish in the year yet didn't.

I'm not talking just half-finished things, either, for there's plenty I never even began. But there's certainly no sense beginning something new this week when the first of the year serves as the ideal starting point for plans, project, resolutions ... even if they're plans, projects, and resolutions that were originally meant to be done this past year. Or last year. Or the year before.

So this is my free week. My limbo week. My week to do absolutely nothing.

Well, as nothing as an uptight-unable-to-relax-without-feeling-guilty-as-cuss grandma can do.

Or not do.

Photo credit: mcgilljp

Question of the day:

How about you? Do you consider this final week of the year a limbo week or your last chance to meet all your goals for the year?

Can you see the real me?

I want to be authentic here. When you visit Grandma's Briefs, I want you to feel like you know me, like I'm showing you my true self. And I am. To a certain degree.

Some of the blogs I read bare all, laying out the most intimate, the most heart-wrenching, the most (in my mind) embarrassing details of one's life in order to connect with readers.

Other bloggers I read write of sunshine and flowers and thanks for the bountiful blessings and, as another blogger succinctly put it, regularly "shit rainbows" instead of being down and dirty (read: "true").

Both tacks are fine ... for them.

For me, though, my level of self-revelation in my blog posts is somewhere in between. My goal is to allow you into my life to see the blessings, the many good times that warm my heart and put a smile on my face, in hopes that it'll do the same for you. I also want to share with you the challenges I face, the darker times, the moments that knock me and my heart for a loop, in hopes that you'll see you're not alone.

It's those darker times that I share less often. Mostly because I refuse to host a pity party and I abhor whining and complaining, which such posts sometimes come across as. But also because I want you to feel good about your visits here, not click away with a heavy heart, questioning whether it's worth your time to visit a dark and depressing place.

Yet, because I've not yet mentioned the dark cloud surrounding me right now -- the result of myriad crises swirling about me and my family -- I'm feeling inauthentic. Possibly like I'm deceiving you. And like those who know me in real life might be thinking I'm perpetuating a "Grandma's Briefs" persona that doesn't accurately reflect my reality, my struggles, my heartache.

Thing is, the sources of the many crises currently clogging up my heart and requiring constant prayer are not my direct story. Although the crises color my every waking moment, I'm in the periphery not the eye of the storm ... thank God. Because of that, because the stories aren't MY stories, I don't feel right sharing them, sharing the details, sharing the cuss that right now is irreversibly cussing up the lives of those around me.

And I've struggled with that. I want to share. I want to ask for prayers. I want to be authentic.

So I will compromise. I will tell you that all about me and my family is turmoil, trying times and tears. But because the unabridged stories are not mine to tell, I will share only to an extent that doesn't betray confidences or privacy.

Here's what I can share:

• The loved one of one of my very closest loved ones attempted suicide in a horrid manner last week. The person didn't succeed and is now in limbo physically, spiritually, psychologically. That limbo -- and whatever direction the person's life takes after the scale of survival eventually tips -- will have a forever impact on my loved one. And there's nothing I can do about it. And that sucks.

• Another loved one has been diagnosed with a brain tumor. Not as fatal as most brain tumors, I'm told, as it was found on the pituitary gland and is potentially removable ... once it shrinks. In the meantime, spots of suspicion have now been found on this loved one's liver. And that sucks ... on both counts.

• Another loved one had half a leg amputated just before Thanksgiving. This is the least heart-wrenching of the current crises as at least the pain is gone ... and there are prosthetics. But still, the challenges ahead and the mourning what was lost matter. A lot. And that sucks.

Those are the biggies. Of course, like everyone, there are smaller challenges all the time, challenges that assault the heart but are overcome, slowly but surely. Most pale in comparison to those above. Thankfully.

There you have it: The real me, as of right now. I've shared as much as I can share without offending those who own the rights to the stories. In all honesty, I feel better, a little lighter for having shared even that little bit.

I hope my sharing won't lead you to click away with a heavy heart.

And I hope you won't be disappointed to learn that I don't have Technicolor BMs. But if that's what you're looking for, e-mail me -- I have links for plenty of other bloggers who do, and I'd be more than happy to share those with you, too.

Photo credit: stock.xchng

Holiday question of the day:

What holiday movie would you most like to live in, even if just for a while?

Gratitude list 2010

I'm not sure if Megan plans to continue the tradition of placing Indian corn kernels symbolizing our blessings into a special dish on the holiday dinner table, but whether actual or just in my heart, these are the kernels I offer up, the blessings for which I give thanks this Thanksgiving:

Bubby is healthy.

Everyone in my immediate family is healthy.

Those in my extended family -- those who have suffered everything from stumbles off the wagon to unemployment to limb amputations and more -- are surviving, doing the best they can.

Brianna's ability to purchase a home of her own.

The opening of an awesome career door for Andrea.

A new baby on the way.

The sweet and silly mom, dad and big brother creating a loving home for that new baby.

Friends ... who play my games, drink my pomegranate margaritas, love my dogs.

Other friends ... who may not love my dogs so much, yet are some of my favorite people in the world.

My sister who loves my dogs and will be spoiling them while I'm away for the holiday.

My other sisters. And my brothers. And my mom. And my dad. The only people who know and understand where I came from.

Health insurance.

Netflix instant streaming through the Wii.

Wi-fi.

Skype and other technology that minimizes the distance between myself and my grandson and my daughter.

A bank account that, surprisingly, has not yet hit a zero balance.

My agent ... my real, live agent who steadfastly believes I have something to offer ... and steadfastly works without pay under the belief the pay will eventually come ... once the book contracts come.

Cheap airline flights from the mountains to the desert.

Amazon Prime.

Progressive lens bi-focals.

Clairol Nice-N-Easy.

L'Oreal face cream ... Alpha Hydroxy face cream ... Arbonne face cream, eye cream, night/day facial serum.

My beautiful home that creaks and groans and sometimes scares me but that always warms my heart. Especially when the wood floors have just been shined.

Deer, fox, squirrels and birds that make my neighborhood a more interesting -- and photogenic -- place to live.

Harness leashes that make it possible for me to walk my dogs despite the deer, fox, squirrels and birds that often cross our path and entice Mickey to bolt.

Colorado weather.

That Granny's dementia keeps her from realizing how compromised her life has become.

Jim's sister who selflessly tends to Granny.

Books -- lots and lots of books that arrive at my door in a steady stream.

Readers who help me read and review many of those books.

Readers who comment.

Readers who don't comment.

Readers who keep coming back, who make me feel like what I write matters.

Children and grandchildren who underscore that everything else that I do -- and have done -- matters.

A husband who encourages me, supports me, and continually dangles in front of me the carrot of hope that awesome things truly are going to come our way.

Yes, indeed, I'm thankful that this past year has proved me to be healthy, wealthy and wise. At least healthier than some, wealthier than many, and wise enough to be grateful for both.

Photo credit: Royalty-free/Corbis

Today's question:

What are you grateful for this Thanksgiving?

Three things I blame on technology

Little kids no longer learn that telephones go brrrrring. 

Because phones no longer ring, they sing ... or scream or crow or play themes from horror flicks or annoying comedy shows.

Coworkers no longer gather around the water cooler to discuss last night's cliffhanger episode of their favorite television series.

Because everyone records shows, to watch on different dates, at different times. Or they catch it on Hulu or iTunes -- alone -- and can't say anything until they're sure others have seen it. By then the thrill, the urgency, the excitement is gone.

Dogs are no longer taught to fetch the newspaper.

Because the news is all read online. Or not at all.

I really shouldn't complain, though, because:

1. I hate talking on the phone.

2. I no longer work in an office so I never engage in chit chat with coworkers about favorite televsion shows.

3. My dogs don't fetch the paper -- which I actually do still read in print -- because some days, fetching the paper myself is about the only exercise I get because I spend much of my time sitting on my cuss blogging. Yet another thing I blame on technology. (Which is more acceptable than blaming it on lack of willpower and motivation, wouldn't you say?)

Photo credits: Click photos for source.

Today's question:

What do you blame on advances in technology?

A crystal ball widget in my future?

On my browser home page, I have lots of little widgets: some serious, some fun, some newsy, some not really worth anything at all.

One that usually fits the "fun" category is my horoscope, placed near the bottom of the page since I don't often pay it much attention.

This is what it said yesterday:

CANCER by Rick Levine

It's easier for you to talk about what you're capable of doing today than to actually follow through and get concrete results. Accordingly, it may be smarter to spend the day engaging in meetings, phone calls and emails, rather than pushing your agenda forward by executing your plans. Figure out the best way to reach your goals and prepare to make your move.

Good thing I read it after I finished my most recent picture book manuscript and after I sent it off to my agent. If I had read it before, I'm pretty darn sure the manuscript wouldn't have been completed yesterday nor the e-mail sent.

Not that I follow the advice of my horoscope by any means, but I do regularly follow any excuse to procrastinate. And that would have been a good one.

Guess it's proof I should mentally move the horoscope widget from the "fun" category to "not really worth anything at all."

I think a crystal ball widget might be more useful at this point anyway -- to tell me if my recently completed manuscript will be THE one.

Wish me luck!

Photo credit: Wikimedia Commons

Today's question:

What's your take on daily horoscopes?