random thoughts – Day 1,700 – (Tuesday) – counting issues

A stack of salvation.

Day 1,700? Um, ok, wow. When this little exercise began in 2020 as a way to deal with the whole remote thing, there really wasn’t a plan. And like so many things without a plan, it somehow manages to keep going. The funny part is, tonight I did a quick online query “how many days since March 17, 2020?” and the answer isn’t even 1,700. It’s actually 1,708. 

Once again, life has zipped ahead without me. It’s probably a good thing I don’t work in calendars or anything involving a lot of counting. And now I have something new and fresh to fret over, just in case discovering the 20-pack of batteries bought several weeks ago and finally used only has 18 batteries wasn't enough already. Apparently I'm not the only with trouble counting.

Anyway, whatever today is, the set of 14 organizer containers ordered from the magical and massive online site offering everything from A-Z at the click of a button were delivered to my deck at 4:40 this morning. No, I didn’t need the box of organization salvation at that ungodly early hour, but 4:00 – 8:00 a.m. was a delivery option with my Prime membership, so I took it. It sort of makes up for some of the items that were needed on a timeline and were delayed.

Before the organizing.

Coffee was poured and the box was opened. Fourteen clear plastic containers nested in a stack were ready to be liberated from their plastic wrapping and address some of my organization woes. Loading the freezer yesterday was not done with care and planning. The stuff had been in cooler bags with ice packs for a while and I was hurrying to get it inside and close the door and let the chilling continue. Even the old freezer was a dumping ground, but it's time to try and fix some old bad habits. 

The freezer was opened and the work began. everything was dumped onto the counter.  Fries, tots, and mixed veggies were gathered in one container. Bread items were collected in another. Other sort-of similar things were grouped and four containers were used. My hands were frozen. I'm not quite convinced it's a workable improvement. We’ll see how long the attempt at neatness and organization lasts.

After the organizing.

The next target for pre-work morning organizing was the spice cabinet. That’s where it began to fall apart. The containers are perfectly sized for the freezer and are about an inch too long for the depth of the spice cabinet as well as every other upper cabinet in the kitchen. The remaining 10 containers might be helpful in the linen closet. Or not.

The funny part (ha, ha, ha hear me laugh) is that a four-pack of the containers was available and now we all know that would have been sufficient. There were also packs of eight and ten, but I bought the big ole14-pack because it was on a flash sale and a much better value. 

This is yet another example of why I have so, so much stuff kicking around. Oddly, some of it was acquired with the intention to help make life easier and just didn't quite work out as planned. 

random thoughts – Day 1,699 – (Monday) – new cool

The refrigerator bought on Veterans Day weekend during a sale and before the promised tariffs of the incoming administration go into effect that will likely increase the prices of absolutely everything was delivered this morning. The time between purchase and delivery gave me a week to eat as much as possible from the big cold box. Oh wait, that was stress eating, not strategy.

On Friday, the appliance store notified that the delivery would be between 7:30 and 9:30. I haven’t owned a cooler since 2013 when I sold, gave away, and donated a ton off stuff including the cooler before I moved. There was a week of wondering what to do with the food during installation, and finally last night I remembered the several chiller bags in the laundry closet. They were from some of the many food deliveries from Whole Foods during the pandemic when deliveries were free with Prime membership. They had been saved under the “some day I might need those” genetically inherited packrat mentality, and finally there is a bona fide case of “some day” coming around.

The pre-installation guidance was to remove items from the walls on the travel path and near the site of the appliance. On Sunday night nine pieces of art were removed from the wall near the fridge and stacked on a counter.

At 7:20 this morning an automated call came saying the new refrigerator would be arriving in about 15 minutes. Coffee drinking was paused and I launched into action launching the contents of the fridge into cooler bags and setting them in the tub. A few and definitely not 15 minutes later, I was emptying the freezer of food and a dozen or so ice blocks and packs that had permanent residence in there when there was a knock at the door. The delivery team came in and scoped out the path from truck to kitchen refrigerator nook.

They held the cooler bags while I continued chucking items into them. They strapped up the fridge and rolled it through the doorway to the dining room. With their gloves on, the fingers and fridge barely cleared the space. I hurried to sweep the fridge nook.

Refrigerator and art.

The new unit was rolled in, plugged in, and set in place. And boom, by 7:45, the delivery team and the old unit had driven off and I was back to drinking coffee. The guidance was to wait two hours before loading the fridge and freezer, but that didn’t really happen. I rehung the displaced artwork and lasted about 30 minutes before I started putting things into the fridge and freezer. Did I really need to wait for the unit to chill itself when everything going back into it was already frozen, chilled, or an ice pack? Wouldn’t that help the cooling situation?

There was time to examine the expiration dates on items before they went back into the big chill box. Most things were okay, but the rarely used mustard turned out to have a best by date from the summer of 2022, the giant bottle of Italian dressing was a year past its expiration, and the mayonnaise jar had next to nothing left in it. It was better than I thought.

Now there is a cool new GE refrigerator freezer in The BungaLowell and things are different. It’s definitely quieter than the old one. There are a few features I’m not super keen on that I would have known about if there had been a floor model to look at. The deli drawer and the two produce drawers are significantly smaller than the old ones. Errrrr. The old produce drawers were squared and big enough that all my produce usually fit into one and the other held wine and beer. The new ones have sloped back walls and it took both drawers to hold a small head of broccoli, a pound of green beans, and a two-pound bag of carrots. That is going to be a summertime nightmare. And for some reason, when the lower big door closes, the upper freezer door pops open and then closes with a little sigh.

On the bonus side, the door has deeper racks and one more than the old fridge. And the freezer has an actual shelf, which the old one didn’t, but it doesn’t reach all the way to the back, so things keep slipping into the gap in the way back. Organizing containers have been ordered. Hopefully they will be as great as I imagine and solve all my problems.

random thoughts – Day 1,698 – (Sunday) – blingy

New dance veils and hip scarves are always exciting and today we got our new tri-color veils, which incorporate the colors of our individual aqua, lilac, and rose troupe hip scarves. Now, in addition to a new choreography, we have a fresh costuming look for our performance in December.

To tie things up with a bow, as soon as practice was done and before dealing with the weekly chores at the grocery store and gas station, I bolted to the nearby local antiques co-op. There is a booth there with a wall of costume jewelry where I have bought some great pieces. Today's mission was to find something in a deep pink color to go with my new rose hip scarf. Preferably blingy. 

Yes, I already have lots of clear and colored sparkly rhinestone jewelry from Mummu and my great aunts Julia and Mary, but not in pink. And something was pulling to me to the store.

Dance bling.

The store was busy. No matter which aisle I went down, there were two shoppers loudly talking (yelling) to each other from separate aisles. At the booth with all the jewelry, I jockeyed for space with two other shoppers to paw through the vintage and near-vintage trinkets. 

One of the other shoppers, in what seemed like a baby talk cartoon voice, was narrating to nobody in particular, everything she touched. “Oh, blue. Hmmm. This is long. Oh, shiny. I used to have something like this.” When her kid came over later to look at jewelry with her, it seemed the cartoon voice was her regular voice.

Meanwhile, while the jewelry shopper was conducting the cartoon voice inventory, the loud talkers were also in the vicinity. One pawed through videos and yelled to the other, “Do you like Adam Sandler? Do you like Jim Belushi?” “Have you seen [movie name - movie name - movie name]?” I focused on the trinkets, gathering a small load of potential contenders. 

Chainmail belt.

By the time I got to the other side of the wall, I had several clear rhinestone necklaces and a multicolor one, and a collar of dark pink faceted beads. That is when I discovered a real treasure – a chainmail belt in a pattern of larger and smaller rings that is more complicated than the European four-in-one I used to make. My knuckles ached just looking at it. I had to have it.

The necklace choices were narrowed to the pink bead collar, the large rhinestone piece, and the belt. With the two “new” necklaces, plus the existing pieces still to be dug out, I felt set for the show, but the dark pink beads are more red when near the pink in the veil and hip scarf. Which means I will probably keep shopping and buy 15 more pieces in the coming weeks. And what about bracelets and earrings? It’s all good. still have a few weeks.

Tonight, “How to clean costume jewelry” was my online search. I love asking a question and having a slew of instant answers. The most popular recommendation was warm water and dish soap. Easy peasy. Cleaned and done.

random thoughts – Day 1,697 – (Saturday) – caturday with kiki

Kiki was finally let back into the bedroom this morning. During previous visits, she had crawled up inside the box spring and stayed there for days. After that, the door was carefully kept closed. 

Since the last time she snuck her way into the bedroom and camped out in the boxspring, I had covered the torn fabric on the bottom of the box spring with a fitted sheet. The door was still kept closed until I figured out what to do next.

This morning, I left the door open while I worked on the wardrobe changeover. I wanted to see what would happen. As I packed the last of the summer clothes into storage bags to make room for the winter sweaters, Kiki slinked in like a shadow. I said hello. She froze in the middle of the rug. I resumed packing summer tee shirts as she silently continued her trek to under the bed. It wasn’t long before she emerged from the far side, padded silently around the bed, and walked out the door.

When I was done and went back downstairs, she ignored me. She turned her back to me as she sat under the dining room table. Or maybe it was a coincidence and she just decided to look out the patio slider through a space in the curtains and I’m just paranoid. 

It wasn’t long before Kiki walked over to me to be petted and we were back on our usual terms. She asks me for affection and I give it. I ask her for affection and she walks away. She pauses and poses too far away for me to pet her and I try to get a better photo than the previous 10,000 slightly out of focus and downright terrible previous ones. And just like that, everything is back to normal.

random thoughts – Day 1,696 – (Friday) – full beaver moon

Downtown at dusk, 11-15-24.

It’s the full beaver moon tonight, and I’m sorry, but the 12-year-old that lives permanently in my brain can’t stop giggling at “full beaver moon.” 

Anyway, the moon was swollen and silver and barely visible over Merrimack Street for most of the walk to the garage. It hadn’t ascended enough to clear the rooftops and there was no hope of trying to get more (quantity) and hopefully more clear (quality) photos of it in the center of a wreath downtown during the walk. I could have hung around downtown waiting to see it climb higher and there were times I would have, but tonight was not one of those times.

From the fifth level of the garage, the downtown streetlights and windows glowed and the distant sky was blue and gold and orange-pink. I bet the scene was nicer and more interesting from the rooftop level, but I wasn’t about to climb another flight or walk up the ramp to find out and once I’m in the car, it’s a serious case of automatic pilot taking over to get me to the exit and out of the place.

On the Aiken Street
bridge, 11-15-24.

The ride home has become a tad more strategic lately. If, when approaching Aiken Street on Father Morrisette, I can see that the traffic is already piled up on the approach to the University Ave Bridge, I’ve been turning off at Aiken and taking that bridge instead. With all the metal, angles, and rivets, it’s a more interesting bridge on which to be sitting in traffic. 

Tonight, the full moon reflected on the river, very low from the drought. When the traffic light changed and the cars advanced a bit, the moon was framed by the diamond shapes in the metal supports. 

I love finding ways to entertain myself while in traffic. Reflections, displays in shop windows, brake lights ahead, brick buildings, birds on windowsills, whatever. It’s all interesting on some level, if only for fleeting seconds while in slow moving traffic.

random thoughts – Day 1,695 – (Thursday) – food and moon

It’s now prime time in the busy season for events at work and in the community. Last Thursday morning was the Salvation Army fundraiser breakfast. Today there was a work event to celebrate the 10^th anniversary of the Multicultural Alliance and Working Parents Resource group, two of our employee resource groups. There was a lunch and a fair with all six of our ERGs present.

The lunch was a buffet with food from various cultures. There was a rice dish, a chicken and potato dish, egg rolls, spanikopita, stuffed grape leaves, pad thai, pizza, and probably a few other things I forgot.

The resource groups each had a table with info, giveaway items including customized cookies, quizzes, games, and scavenger hunts. It was informative, fun, and the food was delicious. Having another opportunity to eat lunch in room that wasn’t our office and chat with people from other departments felt like the good old days before the pandemic that derailed and disrupted the world. The event was everything that colleagues and I have said we missed while working remote. It. Was. Wonderful.

Moon, wreath, light.

Of course, I ate too much. It was too good to not do so. Plus, I’ve been feeling extra-special stressed out and tired lately, which now manifests itself as eating everything in sight in gross quantities as if I could smother the stress and angst. It doesn’t even work. I really miss the days when stress made me lose my appetite and forget to eat. Those were grand days. But the baklava and flan today were also mighty grand.

After work, the fat, silver moon hung over downtown. The holiday wreaths are hung on the lamp posts in preparation for the holidays and the Festival of Lights parade. I was the dork standing on the sidewalk shuffling a few steps this way and that way while trying to find the magic spot where the moon was centered in a wreath. The alignment worked, but a tripod would have helped with sharpness. 

random thoughts – Day 1,694 – (Wednesday) – legal regrets and such

Tonight, I participated in a Zoom webinar called “A Brief introduction to Copyright for Working Artists” offered by Mosaic Lowell as part of their professional development program. It was led by a Boston lawyer and was an interesting presentation about Intellectual Property rights that reminded me of one of my several regrets in life. At least twice, I had considered law school. The first time was when I took Business Law as an undergrad. I liked that class so much I was one of a handful of us who attended all of the Friday afternoon classes, even on the gorgeous spring days when half the school chose to skip out. The Uniform Commercial Code and the implied warranty of merchantability were fascinating. To me, anyway.

There was a point when I started researching law schools, followed by the point where I majorly screwed up, like I did so often as a younger person with a modicum of hope. At supper one night, I expressed my interest in law school out loud to family. 

As so often happened, it was the kiss of death. Instead of being met with questions like "what do you like about it," “is there a specific area you are interested in?” or “what might you want to do with a law degree,” I was met with the same “support” received any and every time I expressed a preference for anything. A torrent of p*ss immediately flowed fast and hot into my bowl of circular oat cereal product. “All lawyers are scum.” “Lawyers are [insert your favorite insult or cuss word here].” “Ewww, why would you want to do that?” And just like my younger self always did in the face of such love and support from people I cared about, I dropped it. Eventually I learned to not share my diminishing number of dreams and hopes because it was easier than seeing them peed upon and stomped.

The second time that law school was considered, I was in my 40s, living in Tennessee, and working full time. I kept the idea to myself, did some research, and then dashed my own budding dream in my own calm, rational, and logical manner. A law school in nearby Nashville had part-time night classes and affordable tuition. A gal pal's father had graduated from there and was enjoying a successful career. The thing that stopped me wasn't the expense, time, or hard work that would be involved, but the lack of American Bar Association accreditation. My brain recognized that the degree might not mean much outside Tennessee and Kentucky and my heart recognized that I likely wouldn’t be living in Tennessee forever.

Anyway. Tonight's webinar on copyright, plus a conversation last Friday where I told colleagues my favorite undergrad class was Business Law, had me all nostalgic and sad about the things I could have/ should have done. A real (and recurring) “what if?” wonderment moment.

If only I could jump into the way-back machine and grow a spine and not let the influential adults in my life dash the few dreams I dared to dream. If only I could go back and learn to just shut up and not say anything until I had fully prepared and could present my arguments. If only there was actually a way-back machine (which, as an invention, would fall under patent protection and not copyright, which I learned tonight). Sigh.