Summer!

Today the trumpets sound and summer officially begins!

Simple seasonal pleasures I look forward to:

• The smell of freshly cut grass

• Raspberries, cherries, blueberries, rhubarb, and sweet corn

• Gurgling from the back yard waterfall

• Scents wafting from BBQ grills ... ours and the neighbors'

• Open windows at night, awaking to a slight morning chill

• Hummingbirds

• S'mores and weenies over the fire pit

• Covering with only a sheet at night

• Dinner parties, game nights, and margaritas on the patio

• Non-party dinners on the patio, just Jim and me ... and the girls, when they visit

• Hot air balloons floating over the house (although the part where they scare the cuss out of Lyla isn't so great)

• Root beer floats

• Sunny day BBQs with friends and family, our place or theirs

• Relaxing in our peaceful three-season porch ... which really can be enjoyed only one season — this season — in Colorado

• The sound of the ice cream truck rolling through the neighborhood (although it would be much more delightful if he updated his play list)

• Apples, peaches, plums, hollyhocks, geraniums, clematis, zinnias, roses, dianthus, day lillies, grape vines and the wild and crazy vine I've yet to identify, growing in the front yard and back. Plus others I try to get to grow in the front yard and back

• Rocking in my rocker on the deck, listening to the birds cheep and chirp and the wind chimes tinkle in the breeze

• Homemade ice cream, at least once

• Watering my flower buckets ... and the zucchini/pumpkin patch that will produce this time

• Our annual summer visit to the desert, this time to not only celebrate Bubby's birthday, but to meet his new baby brother Mac!

Today's question:

What simple pleasures of summer do you look forward to?

A little of this, a little of that ... not!

Where I'm least likely to exercise moderation. (Can you blame me?)Yesterday's post and question was about cupcakes, and Grandma Kc mentioned in her comment that although she loves sugar, she's pretty good about "moderation."

Well, I'm not good about moderation. At least when it comes to some things. Here are a few of those things:

Accumulating books. I plea for free ones for review, I download free ones, I buy as many as I can afford from Amazon.com and the bargain shelves at Barnes & Noble. I have a serious book addiction — even when I'm physically unable to read them all. Crazy, I know.

Doritos. Yes, they're horrible for you, which is why I do my best to not purchase any because regardless of how horrible they are for you, if they're in the house, I eat them. But Jim loves them, so I occasionally acquiesce — then eat them until my TMJ acts up and my jaw pops ... or locks up completely.

Recipes. I've got an out-of-control recipe and cookbook obsession, despite using only a few of my many recipes on a regular basis. They just all look so darn good that I tell myself that I will definitely make them ... one day.

Pictures of loved ones. I can't take just one ... or one hundred. More, more, more is my motto. Now if only I had the money to print them all, my obsession might be satisfied.

Bubby. Moderation is not even a consideration here. I truly cannot get enough of him, yet I keep trying. And he feeds into the one just prior to this: pictures. I'll never have enough pictures of him, either. It's a vicious cycle.

Socks. I love socks, especially unusual ones, cool ones, non-black-or-white ones. It used to be standard when the girls would ask, "What do you want for Christmas?" (or Mother's Day or my birthday) that I'd respond with "socks." They satisfied my sock cravings for a while, then simply groaned every time I asked for more. So I don't get socks anymore. At least not from them.

Candles. Replace "socks" in the paragraph above with "candles" and you'll get the idea.

There is certainly more that proves moderation is not my middle name, but that's a start. A moderate start, I admit.

Hey, maybe I'm on to something here: proof that I can do moderation.

At least to a moderate degree.

Today's question:

In what are you least likely to exercise moderation?

Cutting back

In celebration of spring, I'm cutting back on quite a few things. Okay, it's not really in celebration of spring, it's out of necessity — financial, physical, and sanity-saving necessity. I've survived and dare I say even thrived (in non-financial ways only, of course) after corporate cutbacks. Now the time has come for a few personal cutbacks.

Here are the ways I'm cutting back:

Telephones — This week, Jim and I officially drop the land line and go to cell-phone-only mode. Which is fine by me, as I loathe phones ... and loathe even more telemarketing and political phone calls. Good riddance, home phone.

Cable television — This week we also drop all cable television and will rely on Netflix, Hulu and television networks (thank heavens for HDMI cables!) for our television fix. Farewell, DVR and On Demand.

Screen time — Not only am I cutting down time in front of the television screen, I'm cutting down time in front of the computer screen, too. I have a life ... I need to live it, not let it pass me by while I'm blogging and commenting, tweeting, e-mailing and Facebooking.

Idle time — Less screen time equals more active time: gardening, cooking, crafting, reading, playing piano, walking the dogs. And plenty of time to figure out if "Facebooking" can legitimately be used as a verb.

Dog food — Speaking of walking the dogs, they're officially overweight. The vet says Mickey weighs twenty pounds more than he should. Which means Lyla surely rates the same in rotundity. So not only do I need to walk the dogs more, I need to feed them less. Per the vet. Which is hard because they love snacks. And we love giving them snacks.

People food — Jim and I love eating snacks, too. But we're cutting back, working toward a more healthy diet. So we not only look better, but so we feel better, too. A lovely, thin, and healthy friend of mine recently recommended YOU: On a Diet. So I'm reading it, taking it to heart, implementing some of the suggestions, such as replacing white rice with brown, enriched flour with wheat.

Sugar — Per the suggestions in YOU: On a Diet, the cut causing the most trepidation has been sugar. Because Jim loves his sugar. I recently purchased for the first time ever a package of Splenda. It sweetens my iced tea and Jim's chocolate brownies just fine so far, so I plan to continue buying it ... as long as my pared-down budget allows for the outrageously expensive sugar substitute. Or until Jim cries "Uncle!"

Spending — Jim and I, like most of those living above the poverty line, have become accustomed to a certain lifestyle — a lifestyle unnecessary filled with stuff. Too much stuff. Stuff we don't need. So I'm paring down and no longer spending as much on stuff. Stuff of any sort. I've committed to grocery shopping every other week instead of every week so there's less food stuff. I resist temptation for all non-food spending by refusing to look at the bright and shiny ads in the Sunday newspaper, and I immediately delete e-mail offers from Overstock.com and — heaven help me to continually find the strength! — Amazon.com.

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What have you managed to — or plan to — cut back in your life?

The tunes they are a-changing

I'm proud to say my family is musical. We dabble in playing — a guitar and piano here, a recorder and ukelele there — but it's in the listening to music that we really excel. As a whole, our hearts, minds and ears are open to myriad genres, everything from classical to Christian, country to show tunes, hard rock to soft rock and many that aren't really rock at all. We even have our family favorites in the rap genre. (I must admit, though, jazz and easy listening rarely pass notes in our homes, our cars, our iPods.)

Music plays a prodigious and powerful role in our family, which is why I'm happy to see the love of music continue with Bubby. Since he was an itsy-bitsy baby, music moved him. And like the rest of us, he's happy to sample and savor tunes from varied genres, with recent favorites ranging from "Twinkle, Twinkle" to "Baby" by Justin Bieber to "A New Hallelujah" by Michael W. Smith to "We Will Rock You" by Queen.

I'm thrilled Bubby finds such joy in music. Yet I'm saddened that many of my most-cherished memories of experiencing music — and watching my children experience music — are things he and the youngsters of today will never know, thanks to the ever-evolving face of music.

Music rituals kids of today will never experience

• The satisfaction of placing the needle in the exact desired spot on a record.

• Flipping through album, cassette, or CD bins at the music store.

• Staying up late to watch a favorite group on "The Midnight Special."

• Making and receiving the perfect mix tape.

• Waiting for hours to catch the beginning of a favorite video in order to hit "record" on the VCR in time so it can be replayed in full again and again.

• The horror of a record or CD being cracked, a cassette tape being eaten.

• The horror — and sometimes giggles — associated with scratches and subsequent skips in an album.

• Singing along with a record, perfectly including the skip without missing a beat.

• Weighing the arm of the record player with a penny to get past the skips.

• Searching for secret messages and meanings in backmasking.

• The thrill of finding a favorite song on an AM station while traveling by car, seemingly miles from civilization.

• Waiting by the radio with cassette recorder in hand to record a favorite tune when Casey Kasem announces it No. 1 for the week.

• Marveling at the artwork on an album sleeve.

• Holding the album lyrics in hand while singing along.

• Memorizing the order of an album to the point that when hearing one of the songs on its own, you automatically hum the bars to — and expect to hear — the next song on the album.

• American Bandstand.

Today's question:

What fading or long-gone musical rituals do you lament?

I'll just say no

When I was a teen, I succumbed to peer pressure far more often than I should have. I did things that weren't good for me just because "all the cool kids are doing it." Trying to fit in, trying to be like everyone else was the name of the game, just as it surely — unfortunately — is for today's youth.

When I became a mother, there was still a lot of peer pressure, but of a different sort. There was the pressure to outfit my kids in the latest fashions, keep them enrolled in and entertained by the latest and greatest activities. We rarely had the funds to pay for those fashions and fun things, so the need to do as all the cool moms were doing became less important. I couldn't afford to be like them, so I had no choice but to be myself.

As the girls reached the teen years and all the cool moms were (supposedly in some cases, literally in others) letting their kids run around without curfews, attend co-ed slumber parties or throw parties with alcohol purchased by the adults, I no longer had any desire to be like the cool moms for they didn't seem all that cool to me. I was a mean mom, or so I was told ... often. I had strict rules and high expectations for my daughters. The girls, of course, broke those rules ... often. And they fought against my expectations. It didn't change anything, though, because I purposefully made the choice to not be cool, to be myself, to do what I thought was right. For me, for mine. Regardless of pressure, be it from my peers or my kids.

Now that I'm a grandma, I'm faced with a different kind of peer pressure. Well, to be honest, it really has absolutely nothing to do with being a grandma and everything to do with being a grandma online. Yep, as someone who lives a large chunk of her life on the Internet, I'm confronted regularly by those who want me to do as they do, to follow their lead. And once again I'm doing the uncool thing: I'm just saying no.

To what am I saying no? Well, here's the list of things the cool folks, the popular folks do online that I'm resisting. Don't take offense and don't take it personally if you do these things; just take it as forewarning that I don't do these things, that I won't do these things if you ask.

Here goes. I hereby say no to:

• Passing along forwards. Whether they're cute or funny or elicit a warm fuzzy and especially if they're hate-filled or try to convince me I must send it to 10 friends in order to prosper or find true love. Forwards all get the same treatment from me: the delete button.

• Changing my Facebook profile photo to a color befitting a cause or holiday. Mostly just because I'm lazy.

• Posting or joining or following — or whatever the correct term is — a blog meme.

• Adhering to the rules of an award that requires me to list 16 personal things about myself then pressure eight of my favorite bloggers to do the same by honoring them with the same award. Awards are thoughtful ... unless they require work.

• Changing my Facebook status in support of a cause. (I'm starting to see a minor theme to my list, related to my laziness. Maybe?)

• Entering giveaways that require me to visit and comment on the sponsor's page then — optional, but for extra entries — "like" a Facebook page, follow the blogger on Twitter, and tweet and retweet until the sun rises and sets 16 times.

There are other, less frequent actions friends (and some foes) try to pressure me to take, but those above are at the top of my just-say-no list. Like I said before, don't take offense if you do any of them. I don't have a problem with you doing it, I just have a problem with me doing it. So I won't.

The great thing about peer pressure as a grandma is that it's really no pressure at all.

Excepting, of course, the pressure I felt to let you all know in advance of my just-say-no plan. Just in case you asked. Just so when I ignore your request, you won't feel slighted ... or upset ... or like you want to kick me out of the blogosphere.

(Which means, I suppose, that I still have a few minor peer-pressure issues to work out. Even as a grandma.)

Photo: stock.xchng

Today's question:

What kind of peer pressure do you resist now that you wouldn't have resisted at a younger age?