On Andy Garcia and me

The AARP Life@50+ Expo has come and gone, and I must say it far exceeded my expectations. So much to see and do and learn.

Though the connections made — and the dogs met — were delightful and well worth the trip, my favorite experience there was hands down the Movies for Grownups screening of "At Middleton," which stars Andy Garcia and Vera Farmiga.

You may recall the trailer for the film, included in this post here. (And if you don't recall the trailer or didn't watch it then, go watch it. Seriously.)

You may also recall from that post that I mentioned Andy Garcia would be at the screening. Which he was.

After the lovely movie that I enjoyed from beginning to end, Andy Garcia, along with director Adam Rodgers and Glenn German — co-writer with Rodgers of the sweet story of two parents who meet during their children's college tour — took the stage for an "At Middleton" Q&A session with the audience.

Glenn German, Adam Rodgers and Andy Garcia

Andy Garcia listens to an adoring audience member.Mike wranglers roamed the crowd, giving those in attendance the chance to ask questions. I so wanted to ask who chose the musical selections integral to the story, having seen Arturo Sandoval's name in the beginning credits (whom Andy Garcia played in a 2000 HBO film on Sandoval). But... though I can write for crowds, I sure as heck can't speak in front of crowds. At all.

So I kept my mouth shut, listened to others, and shot frame after frame of the handsome men on stage.

Then the topic of distribution of the independent film and support for it came up. Suddenly there was some mention of the support for the film on a site called Grandma's Briefs, with Andy Garcia saying something about there being a special request and... something else I can't remember at all because I somehow found myself standing and waving my arms and declaring to the men on the stage, That's me, I'm Grandma's Briefs!

And then Andy Garcia asked me to come up front.

Oh, <cuss>! I said in my head.

"Oh, no," I said out loud.

I quickly asked the gentleman behind me to please take my camera and get some photos, someone thrust a microphone into my hand (Here, take this!) and I headed up front.

Right into the arms of Andy Garcia.

Unbelievable.

I wanted to say, "Wow! What a wonderful, touching film!"

I wanted to say, "You are a good, good man, Mr. Garcia!" (I think heis. In part because he and his wife have been married as long as Jim and I, and his family is top priority. Need more? Google him.)

And I wanted to say — once we hugged and I melted into his unbelievably soft jacket that simply felt like home — "Gee whiz! Let's just stay right here and hug all freakin' day!"

I didn't say any of those things.

Instead, I said, "The other grandmas are going to be so jealous!" Yes, at that very special moment, I thought of you all.

Andy Garcia kissed me on the forehead, he thanked me for my support. And I just babbled: "Thank you, thank you, thank YOU...."

(As I mentioned, I can't speak for <cuss> in front of crowds.)

But Mr. Garcia was kind and seemingly genuine as he hugged me again — comfy, cozy hugs that, well, just felt like home. And we posed for pictures.

Then I somehow managed my way back to my seat — after a quick hug to Sue, the PR rep taking photos... whom I also thanked profusely. The gentleman who used my camera gave it back, I thanked him several times, as well, then I sat back down and tried to stop shaking.

A few questions from the audience later — what the Q was or the A that followed, I couldn't tell ya — then the whole thing was over. Just like that.

Poof!

Surreal.

When the lights came up and the crowd began exiting, the first thing I did was dial my husband. It's the normal response when a long-time married woman hugs another man, right? Tell your husband?

I simply had to share with Jim.

And Jim was immediately jealous — jealous that he didn't get to hug Andy Garcia!

But as he always is, my husband was thrilled for me.

"Was it a good hug?" he asked, as he and I put a lot of stock in a person's hug, agree that so much of one's character is revealed in their hugs.

I confirmed that it was.

And it certainly was.

Such a wonderful hug from a good, good man.

One truly unexpected, truly unforgettable moment.

Thank you, Andy Garcia.

Today's question:

Whose hugs feel like home to you?

What I learned this week: Quote me

Of all the things I learned this week, the how is nowhere near as important as the what.

So rather than explain the genesis of each lesson I recently learned, I'll simply share with you the bottom-line lessons themselves — via the words of folks who became wise in these areas long before I.

(One exception: the last lesson, which is in my words and my words alone.)

And my messiest lesson of all:

Seriously!

All of the above, my friends, is what I learned this week.

Enjoy the long holiday weekend. Best wishes for a safe and memorable farewell to summer!

Today's question:

What did you learn this week?

Get your answers here: Letters to grandchildren, extra servings of Lisa

I like to help folks out. Because of that, I'm always pleased to see that some of what I offer up here on Grandma's Briefs meets the wants and needs of those seeking answers online. I'm talking about the search queries that lead folks here and the answers I (sometimes unintentionally) provide.

For quite some time, one of the top search queries that lands seekers on my site is related to writing to grandchildren. For example, in the past week — just the past seven days — these are a sampling of the searches in that vein that show up in my blog stats:

• letter from grandmother to grandson
• letters to a grandchild going away to college
• grandmother letter to granddaughter
• i love you message + to grandchild
• letter from grandma to grandson
• letter to grandson from grandmother
• letter to my grandson
• letter from grandmother to granddaughter
• little letter to my grandson
• letter to my newborn grandson
• what a great grandmother writes to her first great grandchild
• how to write a letter to my new grandson
• letter to granddaughter on her wedding day
• letter to your newborn granddaughter
• unborn baby letter from grandparents
• 1st birthday letter for grandson
• love letter to unborn grandchild
• message to unborn granddaughter
• ideas for letter for grandchild starting kindergarten

I noticed the trend a while back, wrote about it a while back, and now offer the answer to that particular search, regardless of how it's worded, right here in How to write a keepsake letter to a grandchild.

I also get a lot of search queries related to food. I like food. I like to share food answers, otherwise known as recipes. In the past week, I received several queries for no-crust cheesecake, breakfast pizza, and blackberry cobbler — though it's a blueberry cobbler recipe they find here, with info on using any fruit, so I guess it serves up their answer just the same. I'm happy to help out any time anyone wants a recipe, if it's one I have in my Recipe Box.

I'm also happy to help out any time anyone wants information on Zori Sandals. What? Well, I reviewed Zori Sandals a while back, and it has been at the top of my search query list for quite some time. In fact, in the past seven days, six people have landed here in their search for such, despite my review — the one right here — being more than a year old.

There also are other miscellaneous searches for grandma things that I've provided answers for in the past week, things such as (in the exact search terms) a list of things grandmas need at their house, modern day names for grandmothers, gardening with grandchildren, and countless other "grandma" sorts of stuff.

Queries such as those are easy to answer, easy to see how folks ended up here. What's not so easy? Well, try these recent queries on for size — all searches that resulted in web users landing in my little corner of the online world:

• it seems that grandmas always need a little one to hold (meh... kind of reasonable, I suppose)
• mothers of daughters like me
• "spanking spoon" diapers mom
• And the real kicker and ultimate head scratcher: but i wont do that underwear (Surprisingly, there were two searches for that!)

Ultimately, though, my favorite recent search query had to be when someone simply requested "extra servings of lisa, please."

I hope that seeker found all she'd hoped for and then some — especially because she said "please"!

Today's question:

As I mentioned, I enjoy helping folks out. So what would you like to see more of here on Grandma's Briefs? More grandma stuff? More recipes? More giveaways? More essay-type posts? More this and that related to... well... you tell me. What kinds of "extra servings of lisa" would fill you up when visiting Grandma's Briefs?

5 things I do different in an empty nest

My nest was full for a good 20-plus years. Then one by one, my three girlie birds flew away.

It took a while to get used to the empty spaces and absent faces, but I'd say I'm now past the mourning phase and well into appreciating that my husband and I have the place all to ourselves.

Things are different in an empty nest. It's not only the fewer family members kicking about the place, but the activities that happen at home now that make for a wee bit different way of life. To wit, the following.

5 THINGS I DO DIFFERENT IN AN EMPTY NEST

I grocery shop only when absolutely necessary. When my nest was full, I had a regular shopping day. Every single week for a bazillion years, I'd make a list, gather my coupons, then head out the door for the chore I hate most: stocking the fridge, the pantry, the bathrooms and more. I'd walk the grocery store aisles and fill my cart on shopping day whether the cupboards were empty and we really needed food or not. Now that the nest is empty, I shop when the fridge features little more than a few shriveled grapes, a jar of pickle relish, and two bottles of salad dressing that likely should have been thrown away months ago.

We eat dinner in front of the television... a lot. When my oldest daughter was about five years old, we moved our big television (ya know, the one in a massive wood console cabinet and weighing 10 tons and having a UHF and VHF channel changer thingee yet no remote) out of the living room on the main floor where it was visible from the dining room, and into the family room in the basement. Watching television during family dinners did not fit my idea of what family dinners should be. So the TV went down the stairs and conversation between family members became the goal. Every once in a while, we'd have a night featuring pizza and movies, a night when it was okay to sit in front of the TV in the family room while eating. Now that the nest is empty, Jim and I have many nights when it's okay to sit in front of the TV while eating. (The TV is still downstairs, though, as I still consider having it visible from the dining room verboten. Interestingly enough, our dining room features far less actual dining than it did in the past.)

I run around the house naked. Okay, I don't really run around the entire house naked, but I do a nude dash from the bathroom to the bedroom to get my clothes after I shower. When my girls were at home, I brought my clothes into the bathroom (not the master bath, which is Jim's... and we don't share a bath... which is one reason we've managed more than 30 years of marriage... but that's another story for another day) before showering, so I could get dried and dressed before even opening the door. I could still do that but I don't. Partially because racing from my bathroom to the bedroom — which involves climbing a flight of stairs — is sometimes the only exercise I get for the day. Plus, as I get a package delivered nearly every single day, I enjoy the challenge of hauling <cuss> before a delivery man appears at the door. (Thankfully for said delivery men, I have never, ever not won the challenge.)

I make my husband breakfast on weekdays. When our children were at home, said children were my primary focus morning, noon and night. Poor Jim never got breakfast on school days unless he was willing to have a bowl of cold cereal — which he hates and I've never seen him eat in all the decades of our marriage — or a bowl of hot cereal, which he hates, too. Those were the main menu options on school days, along with Johnny Cake now and then (carbs were our friend back in the day). Now that the nest is empty — and I'm a work-from-home freelancer — I feel pretty guilty lounging around in my jammies as Jim heads out the door to toil away on bringing in our only stable income. The guilt is compounded if he has nothing in his tummy. So I make him coffee to take with him. And I make him breakfast to take with him, too. Mostly something featuring carbs because though they're no longer our friend, Jim loves carbs. At least he no longer goes hungry on weekday mornings.

And, of course, we eat funnel cake for breakfast, if we want. I admitted this yesterday. Carbs. Grease. No justifications. Enough said.

Today's question:

What do you do different in your empty nest (or hope to do once it empties)?

Picture this: A little perspective

Last Thursday morning as I did my best to keep my wits about me while preparing to leave for BlogHer '13, I received a last-minute text message from Megan. It was the following photo of Mac — a reminder to breathe and not take stressful conference-attending matters too seriously.

It worked. Seriously, how could it not?

Today's question:

What child most recently made you smile... and how?

BlogHer, boys and more

Today I'm off to BlogHer 2013 in Chicago. Last time I went, in 2011, I went with a friend. This time I'm going completely alone. When I get there, though, I'll be meeting some dear friends whom I speak to nearly every single day yet have never met in person.

I'm excited.

And I'm nervous.

A praying mantis can only do so much, so today I'm simply posting some recent photos I love of the boys I love. Plus a few other photos I recently took that I love, too. I'm hoping they'll leave me with a peaceful, easy feeling.

I hope they leave you with a peaceful, easy feeling, too.

 

(Oh geez... I just posted all those, then realized I didn't watermark a single one. Oh well. Gonna stay peaceful and believe folks will do the right thing and not steal my pics.)

Today's question:

Do you typically take more photos of people or more of nature?

Picture this: Peace, courtesy a bug

I've been rather frazzled of late for a variety of reasons, the kind of frazzling that hurts the jaw when you realize come end of day that you've been gritting your teeth for hours. Yeah, that kind of frazzling.

Last Thursday, amidst the frazzle and dazzle, I went outside to bring the garbage can back from the road and nearly stepped on this as I headed back inside:

I grabbed my camera. I Googled. I was floored. Yes, that's a praying mantis. I've lived in Colorado more than 40 years and have never, ever seen one. So I did what anyone would do: I posted it on Facebook. I got several "Wow!" comments plus a couple from fellow Coloradans sharing how they once-upon-a-time saw a praying mantis in Colorado. And I got a comment from my friend Ruth directing me to read this:

The mantis comes to us when we need peace, quiet and calm in our lives. Usually the mantis makes an appearance when we've flooded our lives with so much business, activity, or chaos that we can no longer hear the still small voice within us because of the external din we've created.

<snip for length and copyright reasons>

An appearance from the mantis is a message to be still, go within, meditate, get quiet and reach a place of calm. It may also a sign for you to be more mindful of the choices you are making and confirm that these choices are congruent.

— from http://www.whats-your-sign.com/animal-symbolism-mantis.html

It brought tears to my eyes. And it brought me peace... courtesy a bug.

Today's question:

What brings you peace during frazzled times?