random thoughts – Day 2,348 (Wednesday) – milestones and intrusions

The milestone accolades continue to pile up. Well, in Duolingo and other pretend realms, not so much in real life. Today, my streak hit day number 2,222 which, numerically looks cool. It popped up on my phone screen after completing a lesson this morning and, like so many other things in my phone and laptop, has absolutely no value in the world beyond my phone. 

My email is now gamified with a little badge popping up to pat me on the back if I delete some magical number of messages some magical number of days in a row. This one has zero fun value and is 100% annoying. I am not looking to spend more time in my inbox, I just want to check messages, get out, and move on with my day. I don’t want extra overlays on the screen patting me on the back and blowing smoke up my butt for deleting some emails.

The annoyances have multiplied in the retail world in the form of interrogations, specifically Ocean State Job Lot, which is close to the house so I go there a lot. The annoying practice is to flash a survey on the payment screen while the customer is attempting to pay and get out of the store. No, I don’t want to answer questions about today's customer service and hold up the rest of the checkout line that extends halfway up an aisle while doing so. Ocean State still has employees at the registers and doesn’t force us to check out purchases ourselves and I appreciate that.

The surveys are rampant, but usually arrive via text or email and I can deal with them (mostly delete) on my own time. I get one every time I go to the dentist. I ignore it, and they send a follow-up. I get them from the doctor’s office (also ignored). And Amazon. And Kohl’s. Walmart. Ocean State the one time I ordered something ship to store. I am exhausted by ignoring all the requests and then the screen congratulating me for deleting emails. I'm all surveyed out.

random thoughts – Day 2,347 (Tuesday) – choose your own

Yesterday I returned a books to the Little Library Box and it was so full I needed to take more out so they would fit. One of them is a “choose your own adventure” book. I’ve heard of the concept, and the book is pretty cool. Each chapter ends with an choice and tells what page to go to for the option chosen. There is a lot going in for 188 pages.

On the way to dance I stopped for gas and air. The tiny station on route 2 was packed with vehicles being jockeyed into position and a massive dump truck swallowing up the space. To the credit of the other drivers, we all made it out unscathed.

Dance was good, but the wood floor was slippery again, especially when we had the A/C running. I slipped in my ballet shoes and I slipped when I was barefoot. there was no winning. We tried both choices. The slightly less slippery floor meant sweating like crazy but the conditioned, drier air meant a more slippery floor, and neither was ideal. It’s hard to dance full out when I don’t trust one knee and ankle and the floor is already trying to wipe me out.

On the way home, I decided to stop to grab some supper. The options included Market Basket prepared food, Chines food, or pizza. I missed the turn into a plaza with both Chinese and pizza, missed the turn for the grocery store, and ended up at a pizza place down the street from home. The pizza was good, just not the way I love it. The crust was a bit thicker than I like, it was light on sauce, the mushrooms were chewy and seemed like they came from a jar, but to its credit, it had a good amount of cheese. I will likely choose a different menu option if I go back there. The pizza option has ben chosen and it’s time to back up a chapter, make a different choice, and try that adventure.

random thoughts – Day 2,346 (Monday) – more real turkeys

Narcissus!

Real Turkeys of South Gardner returned with new episodes today. The afternoon matinee featured fast moving adult females on Sunrise Lane accompanied by several equally fleet footed younger birds that Mom and I call “the teenagers” because they are larger than the youngest birds, but not as large as the adults. This looked like a different flock than the one I usually see with the two hens, one adolescent, and four littles.

The group hustled across from my side of the street to the other as if they were in a race and were soon hidden by shrubs and fencing. They moved too fast to get them all in a photo. One of the adults was walking a bit off, and she may be the hen that had the injured foot last year. If it is her, she’s made great improvement. If it isn’t her, what’s up with the lame hens?

Silly bunny.

Later, over on Champagne Road, the gang of four toms seemed to be missing a member. Two toms were walking on the roof of the tan house. Narcissus was across the street making love to his reflection in the chrome on the back of the Tacoma. I was imagining the soft turkey noises I heard were the fowl equivalent of "dang, you are one handsome dude, I can't take my eyes off you." Maybe the toms rotate the chrome time and it isn't always the same one. I wonder if the vehicle owner is aware of the evening admiration ritual and chrome pecking. The fourth tom was nowhere in sight. I hope he’s okay. Maybe he was on the far side of the roof.

A few houses up the street, a bunny dined from the greenery growing in the long crack in a longer driveway. There was lawn on either side of the driveway, so it was amusing seeing it sitting on the pavement eating from a skinny strip of grass.

It's darker earlier now and as I passed the houses, images from giant TVs could be seen from the street. My TV looks like a postage stamp compared to some of the ones I saw, but I am unbothered. I have no desire for a TV screen so large someone on the street could also watch.

random thoughts – Day 2,345 (Sunday) – screws and loss

Screws. 

Fourteen years ago today, I lost a few screws. (Unleash the loose screw comments. Go ahead, I’ll wait.)

The screws were in my left leg – two at the knee, two at the ankle, and were inserted the previous October with the rod that was set in my shinbone (tibia, if you want to be all correct about it). The fibula also snapped, but it never got any attention during the rebuild. 

I could see the screws under my skin and it grossed me out, so when the surgeon said they could be removed, my response was along the lines of “ok, great, can we do it right now?” Unfortunately, it was not like adding a manicure to the pedicure appointment and required planning and scheduling and transportation coordination due to factors like anesthesia.

I miss these guys.

Once removed, the screws were set into a screw top container (ha, ha) and I took them home. My morbid self had asked for them and I was surprised (and slightly freaked out) at how long they are. They are currently still in the container and somewhere in the house, but it might take some digging to locate them.

While I relaxed on the couch after the quick procedure during which I enjoyed a satisfying drug-induced nap, Moose and Winston, my constant companions, kept me company. I really miss those little guys. 

It stinks that great pets can’t live forever or at least as long as we humans live. Moose shepherded me through a breakup and the immediate aftermath of the broken leg, and Winston joined us several months after the leg injury and added his flavor of support.

The screws are gone from the leg, and so is my full trust in my leg. It’s great for walking, casual hiking, and even belly dance, but those don’t involve jumping or anything even remotely strenuous. This summer’s weekly ballet class has illuminated my lack of trust in my left leg (and ankle) for leaps of any flavor. Leaps used to be my thing. Some of my dancer friends were amazing at spins and holding long poses with an amazing elevation of a leg, and I loved the hang time in a leap and often received the teacher feedback of “great push off” when we did grand jetes across the back of the room. 

In dance, it was leaps, and in roller derby we had to jump over objects while skating to pass our skills test. Now, I barely trust myself to do a tiny hop over a crack. The broken leg broke my spirit. I’ve known it for a while, but it’s become shockingly obvious to me lately. I gained a titanium rod and lost the bold and zesty version of myself I was before it happened. It’s been gone so long now I don’t know if it’s possible to get even a sliver of it back.

random thoughts – Day 2,344 (Saturday) – water, sunshine, and food

Rippling pool water.

The forecast was for nice weather and that was good because it was the day of one my belly dance groups pool party pot luck. Dance bestie picked me up and we headed to the destination -- a lovely backyard oasis with a pool, massive dining countertop, beautiful plantings, and lots of seating.

We live in several different towns and some of us hadn’t seen each other since our show on June 16^th which now feels like a very long time ago. In September we will start our classes again, in a new venue as the old place was sold. That has been the situation with both dance groups I’ve been in over the past couple years.

It was a bit cool and cloudy at the start of our gathering which made it comfortable and perfect for eating. There was so much food we could have fed the navy with salads of the vegetable, bean, pasta and antipasta varieties; assorted veggies and fruits; multiple varieties of hummus; lemonade and iced teas; and desserts. So many desserts, including carrot cake cupcakes with cream cheese frosting made by dance bestie to continue the celebration of my birthday earlier in the week. The carrot cake cupcakes were far superior to the store-bought carrot cake earlier in the week.

Poolside prettiness.

The water rippled and sparkled in the pool. After a couple people went in the water and came back out, the clouds split up and scattered and the sun came out stronger. I’m not really a pool person (the chlorine wreaks havoc with my skin) and was content to sit at the edge of the pool with my feet in the water.

We sat in the shade near a tall pink variety of hydrangea (I had to look it up in PlantNet) and chatted. During the afternoon our multifaceted group covered all the important topics -- food, a couple local murders, looking for houses, state police department horses, an upcoming dance show, various styles of dance classes, children and grandchildren, sleep and waking up, knee problems and surgeries, and a thousand other things. It was fun.

The evening walk was taken earlier than usual and it was quiet. There were none of the usual critters and very few people in sight at 5:30. A cookout was underway at one house and the smell of smoke filled the air.  After walking off the caloric equivalent of one potato chip from the afternoon party, I dove into some bean salad, followed by carrot cake muffins. Life was extra good today.

random thoughts – Day 2,343 (Friday) – turkey antics

Today’s new and exciting episode of Real Turkeys of South Gardner opened with the females with poults parading on my street. The one with the four littles and the one with the teenage turkey reappeared around 2:30 this afternoon and traversed the yards on both sides of the pavement.

During my evening walk I was surprised to not see the four males who nearly always congregate two streets over. I was hoping to see the one turkey dude eyeballing himself in the truck chrome again, but the truck sat in the driveway, ignored.

Turkeys on a Roof.

Instead, a few houses down the street from the Tundra with chrome, there was an odd sound up high and that is when I finally spotted the four males. They stood along the peak of the roof of a house as the sun sank lower. Against a backdrop of trees, they strutted and posed like sculptures and shifted around and one even shoved another one. Now I wonder if there have been turkeys on my own roof. 

This evening’s staging of Turkeys on a Roof  was even more entertaining than the usual ground level episodes. I look forward to upcoming episodes of the unscripted adventures of Real Turkeys of South Gardner.

random thoughts – Day 2,342 (Thursday) – birthdays and such

My birthday has been dealt with in a number of ways over the years. My family has always acknowledged birthdays, no matter what. When we were little, my brother’s birthday (July) and mine (August) were celebrated together with a family party, often on a Sunday afternoon at Mummu’s apartment, with cousins from Mom’s side.

Significant birthdays got some drama. When I turned 13, I was visiting at Mummu’s until Mom said it was time to come home. It felt weird that I was at Mummu’s and I couldn’t just go home, but once home, I knew why. When someone finally picked me up, there was a surprise party and a ten-speed bike that was assembled while I was at Mummu’s. 

My Sweet 16 fell on Friday the 13^th. The plan was a pool party at our house and painting “The Rock” at the granite quarry where, in a tradition started in 1936, the senior class would traditionally paint their graduating year in red and white paint on the granite face of the big hill facing town. My friends and I would start our junior year that fall, so it was essentially an act of sabotage to go paint our year.

My parents weren’t fans of the rock painting idea, but somehow caved and bought some red paint for the job. My friends came over. There was a huge thunderstorm and my party became an indoor event with Dad, who was a freelance DJ, playing all the hit music in our dining room.

When I was turning 30, another surprise party was planned. At the time, X1 and I lived around the corner from Mom and the house I grew up in. X1 and I shared an office in the house and he used the big desk for work stuff, I used a smaller table for sewing. Usually, the only thing on the top of the very tidy desk was a phone and a calendar. On the weekend before my weekday birthday he had written “surp party” on the calendar which, of course, I saw. I finally asked if it was required I act surprised. It was supposed to be a cookout at Mom’s, but it poured and became another indoor house party.

Cake and ice cream, round two.

There were no surprises this year. Mom and my sister chatted in advance about going to lunch and then filled me in. We no longer ask “what do you want to do on your birthday,” because none of us want “a fuss” and will answer with “nothing!” The current (successful) system is to formulate a loose plan and then tell the birthday person, “we were thinking of X and/or Y for your birthday, unless you want to do something else.” Doing nothing is forbidden.

Today’s weather was sunny and warm and thunderstorm free. We decided on lunch at Gardner Ale House and then walking around downtown a bit, followed by cake and ice cream and Yahtzee at Mom’s. (Later, for supper, I had a second round of cake and ice cream.) 

The Ale House has a couple non-meat menu items which is twice as many as some places so I was afforded the luxury of being torn between the veggie burger and a veggie quinoa bowl instead of settling for the lone item on menus elsewhere. Mom had a burger, Sis had a roast beef sandwich, and everyone was happy with their food.

New tree in the kitchen.

After lunch we crossed Parker Street to visit a new shop featuring local artisans that opened about a week ago (TejvaB’s Treasure Chest Boutique) and another shop nearby (Happy Trails Natural Foods). They are both great little shops with lots of interesting stuff including décor and gift items. Need local honey or honey pollen? They’ve both got it. Cool decorator items? Covered. Jewelry or maybe some natural supplements? On it.

I bought a tree of life hanging piece with bells and now I have a lot bordering on possibly too much stuff hanging in the kitchen. We’ll see. Things can easily be moved. I possess the technology (hammer, nails).

In other exciting news – turkeys of all ages and genders paraded through the yard this morning. Also, there may be bear poop in my front yard (discovered this evening on a walkabout). Earlier in the summer there was definitely some in the back yard. Today’s suspicious material looks the same but is smaller.