Battling my personal lemons

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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

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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!

Grilling grandmas and taking notes

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I have a small handmade book I keep on my desk. It's a beautiful blank book, made and given to me by a dear friend.* On the pages of the miniature memento I record quotes, thoughts, sayings that speak to my heart. Yesterday, I added a few new ones to it.

The new points to ponder came from this week's Grilled Grandma, Linda. Her responses to my grilling questions included several seemingly simple statements that speak wisely to the ever-complicated role of grandma. That role is made even more challenging for Linda as she's yet another grandparent whose grandchildren live in her home, blurring the line between master of ceremonies, good times and celebrations and "mom."

Linda treads the line lightly and lovingly -- yet effectively -- and I'd venture to say it's because of ideas and adages such as these she offered up in her grilling, these I added to my special book:

"Mean people suck but you can ignore or laugh at their ignorance and that irreverence, in the right context, is the only way to roll."

"Life is terminal not serious."

"This kind of love is so precious it should be bottled and given to every soul on the planet…all problems would simply disappear. That is the power of this love."

That's just a smidgen of the sage sentiments from Grilled Grandma: Linda. Read her grilling then visit her blog (a link is at the bottom of her grilling). And if you have a special spot for recording words of wisdom and points to ponder, I urge you to write down a few from Linda ... she has lots to share, lots to spare.

(*Sadly, I've lost touch with that dear friend. You know who you are, and if you're reading this, drop me a line.)

Today's (unrelated in any way) question:

How many unpleasant incidents in one day does it take for you to label it "a bad day"?

5 signs you're a long-distance grandma

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Behind every long-distance grandma is a long-distance grandchild.

1. You have a web camera and Skype access, and you're not afraid to use 'em. [2020 update: Let’s make that FACETIME and other mobile connecting options!] And use them you do, as often as your grandchild's parents allow. (In secret, you eagerly await the day it's no longer necessary to have a parent on the other end to work the webcam for your grandchild, the day when he or she can Skype with Grandma without Mom or Dad.)

2. You have online accounts at USPS.com and UPS.com, with your grandchild's address "saved" ... and used often. Plus, you know that USPS.com is best for shipping small packages to the grandkiddos, UPS.com for large.

3. Your guest room -- the one decorated and furnished exclusively for the grandkids -- must be dusted more often than the regular guest room as it hosts guests rarely. Same goes for the toys in the guest room as they're played with rarely.

4. You have subscriptions to the e-mail newsletters of every airline that flies from your hometown to the hometown of your grandchildren. And you're prepared to book a flight on a moment's notice when an outrageously good deal comes to your in-box ... even if you just returned from a visit, even if you already have one planned in the not-too-distant future. You can never have too many scheduled visits on the calendar.

Last but not least ...

5. You're a liar. What? Huh? To wit: You reply to inquiries of "How are the grandkids?" first with a heavy sigh and downcast eyes -- nearly imperceptible to the untrained eye, though -- followed quickly by typical grandma delight and brag-book sharing. The heavy sigh is because your first immediate and honest response to such an inquiry is always, always, "Too far away." But that's too depressing to share with those just asking out of politeness, so you become quite adept at hiding the truth -- in other words, at being a liar.

Today's question:

What is one good thing about living far away from a loved one?