Every little bit

April 22 is Earth Day, and I have to admit that I'm not as conscientious as I should be about saving the planet. Especially considering that as a grandma, I hope the planet will always and forever be a good home for Bubby and all my other grandchildren, great-grandchildren, great-great-grandchildren and so on to come.

But there are a few things that I do. And it's my understanding -- or at least my justification -- that every little bit helps.

Here are some of the environmentally responsible things I do:

• I turn off the water while brushing my teeth.

• We have low-flow toilets in two of our three bathrooms (the third is a non-standard size and low-flow isn't an option there).

• We have low-flow shower heads in two of the three bathrooms (again, low-flow won't work in the third).

• I take showers instead of baths. FYI from the EPA: A full bathtub requires about 70 gallons of water, but taking a five-minute shower saves water by using 10 to 25 gallons.

• We have absolutely no grass that needs watering on our property. I could pretend we chose to xeriscape, but the home came that way. (Well, we did remove the smidgen that was in the back yard, so we did do our part. Yay!)

• Because we have no grass to water, we also have no grass in need of mowing, so we help out there by not using fuel and not contributing to air pollution.

• Another benefit of having no grass is that we don't fertilize it. EPA FYI: Fertilizer runoff can pollute rivers, lakes, and bays, and cause problems in recreational areas or fishing grounds.

• I don't use the car every day of the week. Okay, it's because I work from home for the most part, but it still counts in my book. EPA FYI: Leaving your car at home just two days a week will reduce greenhouse gas emissions by an average of 1,600 pounds per year.

• We use Energy Star appliances ... and take advantage of any e-cycles on any of them, such as for the dishwasher and clothes washer.

• We recycle electronics by sending old cell phones out for use by deployed military folks, bringing old computers to an electronics recycling center, etc.

• We poop scoop, disposing of the dog (and cat) doo in places that won't contaminate stormwater ... unless Mickey has an accident on our walk when he's not supposed to and I didn't bring scooping gear. EPA FYI: Leaving pet waste on the ground increases public health risks by allowing harmful bacteria or organic material to wash into the storm drain and eventually into local water bodies.

• When we travel, we opt out of daily linen changes. We hang our towels to reuse a second time and we don't have the sheets changed each day.

• We pay for a recycling service to pickup our recyclables instead of throwing them in the garbage.

• We unplug appliances and such (can opener, lamps, etc) that aren't in use as plugged-in appliances still use energy even when they're off.

• We're slowly but surely migrating from regular light bulbs to compact fluorescent lighting throughout the house. EPA FYI: If every American home replaced just one conventional light bulb with a compact fluorescent light bulb, we would save enough energy to light more than 3 million homes a year.

• Our thermostat is on a timer so less heat is used at night. (Unfortunately we no longer have A/C but when we did, it was also on a timer.)

• Although I don't use reusable market bags for grocery shopping, we do re-use all of our plastic grocery bags -- to line our wastebaskets, for holding the doo when poop-scooping is done, and more.

Now that I look at it, it seems like I do a lot, which just goes to show that it's not that difficult, costly or time-consuming to do your part. Like I said, every little bit helps -- and adds up.

Today's question:

What's one or two environmentally responsible things you do around your home?

What I don't know for sure

I don't know for sure that Bubby will always live so far away.I have a confession to make: I read O - The Oprah Magazine. I don't watch her show -- although I did DVR yesterday's episode because the cast of Glee was on it -- but I do enjoy the magazine, for the most part.

Oprah's magazine is jam-packed full of articles on how to make your life prettier, happier, more fulfilling. I don't read those articles. I really just pretty much read the articles on books, especially the regular column titled "Books that made a difference to ...". Each month a celebrity of some sort lists several books that formed her (or his; she does feature men, too) core. It's one of my favorite places to get book recommendations.

Another regular feature in Oprah's magazine is the back page essay titled "What I know for sure." Oprah apparently knows lots of things for sure. She's quite the advice dispenser, and she uses this column to regularly inform her worshippers readers what she most recently figured out she knows for sure.

I'm not as wise and confident (or as rich) as Oprah. I do know that for sure. But there aren't a whole lot of other things I know for sure. So in this here daily rambling, I'm taking a different tact: I'm going to tell you a little of what I don't know for sure.

Let me first say that "What I don't know for sure" is quite different from "What I don't know." The latter is a more definitive statement; it applies to things I absolutely know for sure that I don't know. For example, I don't know how to use a pressure cooker. I know for absolute, positively sure that I don't know how to do it. I'm a grandma and I thought grandmas were supposed to know that, but I don't. I definitely don't. I don't own nor have I ever even attempted to use a pressure cooker. So that falls under the category of "What I don't know."

"What I don't know for sure" has a subtle but important difference -- it basically covers concepts and ideas that I'm not positive about, that I don't absolutely know are or will eventually be true.

Rather than try to explain, I'll just give you my list. That should make it pretty self-explanatory. (Although I don't know that for sure.)

Here goes:

1. I don't know for sure that our most recent snowstorm -- yesterday -- was the last for the season. It should be springtime, the snow should have stopped, I should be able to plant some pansies. But I don't know for sure that we won't get a massive blizzard at the end of April, as has happened in many years past.

2. I don't know for sure that I'm going to succeed as a freelance writer to the extent that I won't need a real job, another dreaded, soul-sucking office job. But not knowing that for sure keeps me on my toes, keeps me busy, keeps me trying my hardest.

3. I don't know for sure that Jim and I won't ever get another animal. Isabel (the cat) still has issues now and then with Lyla (the new dog) and prefers using the human bathroom instead of the cat bathroom/litterbox so she doesn't have to sneak to her box, crossing her paw nubbins the whole way that Lyla won't catch her en route. I'd like to say I'll never, ever, ever get another animal again -- which Jim does say every single time he finds Isabel's mess in his bathroom -- but I don't know for sure that we really won't. Especially after one of our current brood kicks the bucket.

4. I don't know for sure what I'm making for dinner. I do know for sure that I'm fed up with always having to figure out what to make for dinner.

5. I don't know for sure that I'll always be a long-distance grandma. Not knowing that for sure keeps me going. I know for absolute definite sure that I don't want my kids and grandkids all living hundreds and hundreds of miles away from me, as Bubby now does. But Brianna will eventually have kids, and she lives nearby now. Although she could move ... is considering moving the Pacific Northwest. Andie swears she won't have kids and is considering moving to a hot, desert-like climate. But ya never know -- she could have kids AND stay nearby so I could have little grandkids stay the night on a regular basis. And, of course, there's always the chance that Bubby's mom and dad will decide they should live in the mountains, especially once Bubby's little brother or sister comes along and Bubby's mommy realizes how very, very badly Grandma wants the little ones nearby. I don't know for sure that it couldn't happen. I do know for sure that I'm hoping it will.

There is lots more that I don't know for sure, but I got a tad verklempt with that last one, making it a little hard to type. And I do know for sure that I don't want these final sentences riddled with typos as I can't see through the tears, so the list ends here.

Today's question:

What is something you know for sure or something you don't know for sure?

My answer: I know for sure that today I will brush my teeth and shower and that's about the extent of what I know absolutely for sure will happen. The rest is up in the air ... which is a good thing. I'm open to surprises today.

If I had a million dollars

When Jim and I were first married, we were pretty darn broke. We stayed home nearly every Friday and Saturday night, playing backgammon and gin rummy and dreaming of better days to come.

"If we had all the money in the world," I'd ask, just to break up the monotony of me him winning all the time, "what would you want to be doing right now?"

His response and our discussion to follow usually went far beyond what we'd be doing that night if we had money, evolving into how we'd spend the entire stash if we won the lottery: fancy dining experiences, fast cars, hip clothes, trips to exciting/interesting/exotic places, attending concerts across the country of our favorite bands.

Fast forward 28 years.

While we no longer stay home every Friday and Saturday night, we do still talk often about what we'd do if we won the lottery. And those conversations are where we really show our age.

Here's the list of things Jim and I are adamant about doing if when we win the lottery, in order of priority:

• Tithe

• Pay off our gargantuan PLUS loan we took out for the girls to get the educations we didn't.

• Pay off our gargantuan house loan.

• Support our moms.

• Pay for lots of things for the girls (cars, homes, etc.).

• Hire a weekly housekeeper -- who, at Jim's request, would do the windows every other week.

• Dole out one-time cash gifts to our siblings plus a few nieces and nephews.

• Buy the house next door and totally raze it, allowing us to have back our view of Pikes Peak and making way for the most awesome play area for the grandkids.

• Put a 10-foot fence around our property.

• Buy a cabin in Flagstaff.

• Visit the Pacific Northwest ... often.

I'm sure we'd do a little clothes shopping, a lot of book shopping, a little dining out and add trips to NYC, DC and Bruges. But on our current list there's nary a mention of fancy cars, fancy clothes, wild and exotic trips.

Nope, the majority of our plans for the load of cash revolves around making life a little more comfortable on the homefront and for our family. We're getting old, it seems, and relaxing at home and knowing our family is safe and financially sound is really all we're looking for at this point.

Although ... those concerts mentioned years ago ... we'd still shell out bucks to catch concerts across the country. We're not that old yet!

Today's question:

If you were to win the lottery (regardless of whether you buy tickets or not), what is the very first thing you would buy once you claimed your prize?

My answer: Dinner at a NON-fancy restaurant after picking up the check at the lottery office. We're not fancy restaurant kind of people; a modest restaurant that serves excellent steaks and even better lemon-drop martinis would be our ideal celebration spot.

Tube talk

Jim and I recently started watching the new television series Parenthood, the one by Ron Howard et al., based on the old(er) movie of the same name.

We like it so far. Which doesn't bode well for the show. It'll likely be canceled now that I've given it my stamp of approval.

For whatever reason, Jim and I have never been big TV watchers and -- despite a few attempts -- we never seem to home in on the shows that seem to be most popular with all the other TV watchers in the country. We don't watch the CSI or Law and Order shows. We definitely don't watch reality shows. And, much to the surprise of a few friends, we've never seen an entire episode of The Simpsons.

During our early years of marriage, our favorite shows were Soap, Quantum Leap, St. Elsewhere and MASH reruns. We grew to love Beauty and the Beast and Fame, as well as -- when we could afford cable -- The Hitchhiker and It's the Garry Shandling Show (just typing that one made me smile).

Then the 90s came and we were too busy to watch TV ... or the girls commandeered the only television set we had and Jim and I joined them for precious few shows. (We were willing to sit through Buffy the Vampire Slayer; not so much Saved by the Bell or, later, Dawson's Creek.) When we did watch on our own, it was usually 20/20, 48 Hours, Dateline or some other news show that kept us constantly worried about the safety of our children.

As the girls got older and ownership of the TV returned to us, Jim and I started watching more and more on the tube. Here are a few we watched regularly in the last, say, five years:

• Six Feet Under (HBO)

• Rome (HBO) -- Jim

• 24 -- Jim

• Felicity -- me

• Gilmore Girls

• Medium (although her waking-up-in-a-gasp schtick has grown tiresome and we no longer watch)

• Brothers & Sisters (the silly drama has grown tiresome and we're about done)

• Grey's Anatomy (ditto)

• Men of a Certain Age

• True Blood (we'll be watching this upcoming season at Brianna's, as we've canceled HBO)

• Glee (!)

• Ghost Hunters (thanks, Tammy!)

But here's the kicker. Here are our favorites of the past few years, favorites that apparently very few others favored because they were lured away by Biggest Loser, American Idol, So You Think You Can Dance or any other reality show we simply couldn't stomach. These gems were canceled far too soon for our unpopular taste, which made us question the intelligence of the average TV watcher very sad: Joan of Arcadia, The Riches, Related, Six Degrees, Life on Mars, Eli Stone, Pushing Daisies (thanks for the reminder, Pam!), Flight of the Conchords and Saving Grace (the upcoming season is the final season).

What's up, people?

A friend recently gave us the first season of Lost -- and we love it so far! It'll take us quite some time to get through the seven seasons, but at least we know this series can't be canceled on us.

I wish I could say the same for Parenthood.

Today's question:

What's one of your all-time favorite TV shows?

My answer: I really loved St. Elsewhere ... and Quantum Leap. But that may just be nostalgia talking.

Rediscovered loves

My question of the day yesterday asked what is something you love, love, love. It brought to mind some of the things I used to love, then forgot about, then rediscovered. Here are a few of those things:

Walgreens brand Alpha Hydroxy Face Cream -- I used this stuff years ago when I first started worrying about the dreaded wrinkles. It was cheap ($5.99 for 4 ounces), it was readily available. Day in, day out, I used the cream. Then I started making the big bucks. And spending the big bucks on more expensive face creams, from L'Oreal to Arbonne (which Andrea sold for a while). I liked the fancy-schmancy creams and forgot about my first love. Then money started getting tight again and I longed for the Alpha Hydroxy -- but could no longer find it anywhere. I've looked for it for a few years now, always lamenting the $20+ I had to shell out for an itsy bitsy container of some brand-name dewrinkler. Until just the other day. Brianna and I were at Walgreen's and the heavens opened and angels sang and a light shone upon a bottom shelf in the skin care aisle where two lonely containers of my beloved Alpha Hydroxy sat ... still priced at only $5.99 a jar. I bought both -- and considered asking the clerk if she had more in the back so I could stock up. L'Oreal: You're no longer welcome in my house! (Well, at least as long as these two jars last.)

Icees -- When I was about 12 years old, I lived in a small town (the now growing town my mom and sister still live in ... separately). There was a 7-Eleven on the route I walked each day with my BFF on our way to school. We stopped there nearly every day for penny candies (that really were about $.02). My friend's sister, the older-by-a-year, much-cooler Jeanne, stopped there, too. For Icees. My friend and I splurged occasionally, but Jeanne bought lots of the luscious carbonated red goodness, slurping them up regularly -- and saving the little points you cut out of the cup that could be redeemed for prizes. And she actually did redeem them for prizes. I was so jealous, not only of the prizes she got after purchasing and mailing in the points from 362 Icees, but because she could afford them so often. I forgot about Icees until about a year ago -- when Jim realized they sell Icees at the movie theater. Now we get an Icee every time we go see a movie. Mmmmm ... so much more satisfying (to me) than popcorn.

The smell of cut lumber -- Jim and I recently had to do a little lumber cutting around the house, trimming up old (old) doors that wouldn't close correctly because the house had settled over the years and the antique doors stuck here and there. I held the door still on the impromptu "saw horse" on the patio while Jim trimmed from the bottom ... and I was suddenly floored by the glorious scent wafting from the sawdust. I don't know if it brought me back to childhood and watching my dad create some funky wooden road sign with a rooster at the top, a hen below the rooster, then seven chicks below that, all with the label "Roger's Roost" (we were a family of seven kids) or if it brought back memories of when Jim and I remodeled our old house, doing most of the work ourselves and being incredibly proud of our work ... especially considering neither of us had ever worked any sort of construction in the past. Either way, I had forgotten how wonderful wood smells when cut. Now if I could only find a "Cut Lumber" scented candle (and, no, the "Pine" scent doesn't cut it!).

Story of the Day from StoryPeople -- I discovered the magic of storyteller and artist Brian Andreas during a family spring break trip to a small tourist town more than 10 years ago. I fell in love instantly. I bought a print. I later ordered prints for each of the girls for Christmas. I signed up for the e-mailed Story of the Day. Those stories made my day, made me smile, made my heart squish up in wondrous ways. I bought a print for our new house (actually, it was purchased for the folks we bought the new house from ... then when I saw the absolutely disgusting mess they left for us to clean, I kept the print for myself) and I love this print. It looks like this:

And it says this:

There are things you do because they feel right & they may make no sense & they may make no money & it may be the real reason we are here: to love each other & to eat each other's cooking & say it was good.

Did it squish up your heart?

But then my e-mail box was filled to the brim each day and I had to cut what I didn't have time for. StoryPeople was one of those cuts.

I have a little more time now, and a little more need for some serious heart squishing (in the good ways), so I recently signed back up for the StoryPeople story of the day ... and became a fan of StoryPeople on Facebook. I love this stuff. Once again, it makes my day.

Flannel nightgowns -- From the time I was about 15 until I was nearly 30, I wore flannel nightgowns. They were comfortable ... and comforting. Then I started feeling like an old lady and decided I needed more hip, cute, fancy, appealing nightwear. During a bout in the hospital, I received a silky pajama set from my little Girl Scouts (Daisies and Brownies!) and decided THAT'S the kind of luxurious jammies I need to wear. So I purchased another silky set from Victoria's Secret (not the kind Jim would have liked, but the kind I liked, that could be worn around the kids!). Then, for some reason I can't recall, I moved to the capri sweats and tank top kind of jammies ... then flannel pants and T-shirt jammies. And I'm sick of them. So this past weekend I decided to go ahead and be the old lady I am, and I ordered a flannel nightgown from JCPenney. Weird thing is that the only flannel nightgown I could find was a "nightshirt" -- for men! What kind of man would wear such a thing? I would kick Jim out of bed, possibly even out of the house, if he ever dared to wear a nightshirt -- flannel or any other kind. We're not THAT old! But I can't wait to put one on myself.

So there you have it: my rediscovered loves of late.

Today's question:

What long-lost love you have recently rediscovered?

5 things I'll never write about

I read a lot of blogs. I didn't used to, but since becoming a blogger, I'm interested in what other folks are blogging about, where they get their ideas, how they express the little -- and big -- things in life in a way that intrigues readers day after day. My RSS reader feeds me a steady diet of food for thought.

Lately, some of that food has been pretty foreign to me. Not foreign in the sense that I'm reading posts in Chinese or Swahilian (is that the correct word?). Just foreign in the sense that I've read a lot of posts of late on topics that I, myself, cannot imagine writing about.

I admire folks who have the guts to let it all hang out, especially if they can let it all hang out and elicit a chuckle at the same time. I sometimes even enjoy reading the posts of such folks, even if I'm slightly horrified, deeply depressed or uncomfortably embarrassed by and/or for the blogger. But I personally can't write like that. I'm not that kind of a blogger. I'm not that kind of a person.

So just to let you all know -- in case you're looking for something a little dirty or depressing deeper, a little more raunchy revealing in the blogs you frequent -- there are five things you'll never read about here on Grandma's Briefs. Feel free to unsubscribe or remove me from your favorites or vow to never again visit www.grandmasbriefs.com if this admission reveals to you that I'm just not your kind of gal, your kind of blogger. I understand.

Here, all based on posts I've recently read (and often, in all honesty, even chuckled about and read through to the end), are the Five Things I Will Never Write About.

1. Sex with my husband. (Is it anyone's business? I don't think so.)

2. Play-by-play of a pap smear, mammogram or Brazilian wax. (I'm not humorous enough to make such posts good reads for anyone.)

3. Masturbation. ('Nuff said.)

4. Chronic complaints of my chronic disease/disability. (Does whining, complaining, sounding like a hypochondriac begging for pity focusing on it make it any better? Not for me.)

5. Details on the wacky, weird, effed-up family interactions that take place -- on my side of the family tree, on Jim's, or within our immediate nest. (Yeah, sometimes they can be funny, touching, revealing. And sometimes I'll allude to them. But you'll never get details. Sorry. Effed-up or not, they're family, loved ones, folks I don't want to alienate, folks who don't deserve their dirty laundry to be flapping in the wind for all 10 of my readers to see.)

There you have it. I'd love for you to stick around, but if I'm not what you're looking for, I understand your need to move on. And hey, I can even recommend some blogs that offer such posts. They're often quite funny/touching/sad/horrifyingly hilarious ... and continue to show up on my RSS reader.

You just won't find that here. I'm not that kind of blogger.

Today's question:

What's one (non-intrusive, relatively impersonal) thing that most people don't know about you?

Signs you're not yet used to an empty nest

My nest is empty once again, now that Brianna has moved into her new house. Jim and I were here once before, for a very brief period of time when Andrea and Megan were away at college and Brianna lived with some girlfriends.

Then Brianna moved home. And Andrea needed time to figure out her next move after college graduation.

But now with Megan married, Andrea fully ensconced in the life of a single, independent woman and Brianna settled into her new place, the nest is once again empty.

And this time I think it's for good.

And I'm having a little trouble getting used to it. Not emotionally -- I'm thrilled the girls are out on their own and succeeding as adults. It's the smaller habits of a full household that I've not yet been able to break, little things here and there that as I do them, I realize I'm not yet used to an empty nest.

I've started a list of those little things I've noticed myself and other empty nesters I know doing, the signs that we've not yet adjusted to the kids being gone. If you have an empty nest, let me know the signs you've noticed, the habits you're trying to break. And you younger folks -- you whippersnappers whose parents are still trying to get used to life without you (no matter how long it's been!) -- now's your chance to vent about the wacky ways of your empty-nesting mom and dad.

SIGNS YOU'RE NOT YET USED TO AN EMPTY NEST

• You still lock the bathroom door because it's always been the only place you could get a little privacy.

• You have stacks of empty shoe boxes you can't get rid of because you never know when one of the kids may need one for a school project.

• You throw away lots of fruit and vegetables each week, as you're unable to eat all the apples, oranges, kiwi, carrots and bananas that have been a staple of your weekly shopping trip for years.

• Or your freezer is overfilled with frozen black bananas you've saved for making banana bread instead of throwing them away.

• Your freezer is also packed with loaves of frozen banana bread because you have used some of the bananas already.

• You still have a file folder of crafts and recipes you've torn out of magazines that you never got around to doing with the kids. But you keep the folder -- and continue adding to it -- because now your plan is to eventually use them with the grandkids.

• You still buy the same number of rolls of toilet paper you have for the past 20 years and now have enough on hand to stock the bathrooms of all your kids ... and your neighbors ... and their kids.

• Same goes for tampons.

• You find yourself dumping out gallons of spoiled milk on a regular basis because it just doesn't feel right to buy the half-gallon containers.

• You catch yourself saying, "Keep it down ... the kids will hear you" in the middle of arguments.

• And in the bedroom.

• You make three times the amount of dinner you and your spouse will eat.

• Which means you have quart-size baggies of  comfort foods -- chili, crockpot soup and sausage gravy -- stacked in between the mountains of bananas in the freezer.

• Which also means you have very little room left for the frozen pizzas, burritos, Hot Pockets and other favorites of the kids that you still habitually fill your shopping your cart with.

• You've found you kind of like the taste of Cocoa Puffs and Fruit Snacks since the cupboard looks bare without them.

• You pull curtains, sheets off unused beds, rugs, throws and more to wash each week as the three loads of laundry created by you and your husband don't a laundry day make.

• Once you settle into bed at night you realize you forgot to shut off the hall light, the light you always left on so the kids would get safely to the bathroom in the middle of the night.

• Same goes for the porch light, but you decide to leave it on ... just in case one of the kids decides to come home in the middle of the night. In need of some comfort food. Which they know they'll find in the freezer. Right next to the bananas.