“Remoted” – Day 410 (Friday)

Every Friday is met with the same thought. Thank goodness it’s Friday. Five-day workweeks are definitely better than a six- or seven-day workweek, but dang, I’d sure love a four-day workweek and three-day weekend. In my next life, if there is such a thing, if I can’t be part of the super-wealthy billionaire echelon then a four-day workweek would be a suitable concession. Just a thought. 

Hello? Hello? Umm, cookies?

The wind was wild again today, even though the weather reports called it “moderate.” The trees were whipping around, and each of the 10,000 times the door was opened to cater to the needs of the Canine Overlords, the wind was either blowing against the storm door making it hard to open, or would catch it and nearly rip it from my hand. 

The pups had a normal day, cycling between napping, yapping, and staring at me in hopes of scoring a cookie. The yapping was mostly Moose, as he is the vocal one. Winston is the king of nonverbal communication. The lumps in Winston's neck are much better, with one side back to normal, and the other significantly smaller. Hooray for antibiotics!

The wind felt pretty crazy to me, but that’s probably because it seems like it hasn’t stopped for about two solid months. March is the month known for wind, and it can stop any minute now. It wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if the house lifted from the foundation and flew off, and the idea was quite appealing. Talk about the perfect travel scenario! A change of scenery with no travel bookings, no airfare expense and no TSA, and my entire wardrobe and all my stuff would be with me without the aggravation of packing. Sign me up please. Although my luck, the mystery wind tour would probably put me down in the middle of Siberia or Greenland. The solitude would be okay, but the weather might not be so grand.

The forecast includes more “moderate” wind of “3-18 mph” tomorrow. If it is anything close to today’s level, I reckon I will be totally uninterested in leaving the house. This is unfortunate as there are plans outside the house for tomorrow, with “outside” being literally out-of-doors. We’ll see how that goes. Or doesn’t.

“Remoted” – Day 409 (Thursday)

In a too-long stretch of time where it feels like every day I am mad at something, today’s star studded hit list includes the clanging of metal. The volume and intensity led to the conclusion it is from two streets away at the bridge being rebuilt on Beaver Street, and my heartfelt sympathy is extended to the people in the homes right next to that project. It has been periodic over the past 13 months, and over the past couple weeks it has been almost daily, beginning between 7:00 and 8:00 a.m., and stopping in the early afternoon. 

Produce!

The clanging would be the perfect soundtrack for an industrial documentary, but is less perfect for other lines of work, especially those requiring any level of concentration. Layered over the noise from outside the house is the ever-present tinnitus inside my head, which randomly runs in hyperdrive, and has been exceptionally non-stop this week. At least three times, the urge to cry or drive a spike through my head over the noise was nearly overwhelming. There have been other things that ticked me off, but to list them all would just trigger a painful reliving of it. I really miss the stretch before 2020 where I could shake things off more easily.

The produce box arrived today, a day later than usual, but an email earlier in the week provided notice of the delay. Not a single thing was broken, which felt like victory after recent deliveries, and the box was only slightly soggy despite being left outside on the deck in the pouring rain. It was strategically pushed against the door to the enclosed porch, making it hard to open from inside. You know, the door to the dry, sheltered space that would protect a cardboard box during a torrential downpour. But maybe that is just me being all house-proud and logical.

Supper!

The fresh and vibrant produce inspired a supper of sauteed onion, green pepper, mushroom, tomato, fresh basil, garlic, vegetarian fake Italian sausage, and macaroni. It was a magical fry pan supper whipped up in about 20 minutes, which is my favorite kind of meal. Well, except for maybe meals someone else cooks for me. 

The grocery items in the produce box included cocoa chocolate truffles which have miraculously managed to remain unopened for six full hours now. The dark chocolate covered bananas were opened and are really yummy. Those will not last long at all.

“Remoted” – Day 408 (Wednesday)

Today was great – all day long I was aware it was Wednesday. This is now the benchmark for a successful day. Setting the bar low ensures a good chance of success.

I want to hang out with
Dan Levy in real life.

It was Day Two of the Adobe Summit, which had flashy session titles about content and data and digital marketing to attract eyes to the 30-minute commercial segments. Yesterday’s keynote included a segment with Serena Williams. Today’s lunchtime keynote featured the beautiful and talented Dan Levy. I am pretty sure if Dan Levy and I knew each other we would be best friends like David Rose and Stevie Budd in Schitt'$ Creek. Until that time, I have my imagination.

Levy’s opener included a bit about the audience wondering why he was here, and he followed up with “I’ve been asking myself and my therapist that for years.” He referenced being a college dropout and “dressing up for a living” while interacting with a series of Adobe product development folks who demonstrated their products. The parts with Dan were very funny. 

The developer would ask a question to tie the product to Dan's business, D.L. Eyewear. There were times where Dan had a hilarious look on his face somewhere between confused, constipated, and focused. Responding to one question asked by a developer, Dan said, “If I haven’t made this abundantly clear, you are dealing with someone who isn’t very bright.” Another developer asked what comedians and successful business people have in common, and Dan said, “Crippling anxiety and insecurity?” I was dying. And also relating. The developer added, “knowing their audience.”

For a solo soup lunch watching a business presentation, it was quite fun. The only thing better would have been a real life lunch with Dan Levy.

“Remoted” – Day 407 (Tuesday)

It was class day which meant morning makeup in the hope of not scaring the classmates, and logging in early to check emails and deal with a few things first. Now there are a few weeks off from the class as we prepare for our final presentations. The class is Public Speaking, offered through work. We’ve been meeting on Tuesdays from 8:30 to 11:00 for four weeks, and it’s much more stressful than I thought it would be. 

King of the couch.

Later in the day, I listened for the delivery truck with my produce order, and at 4:00, annoyance had marched in on solid footing. That’s when I realized there had not been a delivery yet, nor would there be one, because, despite my attempt at time travel, it was still Tuesday and the produce comes on Wednesdays. That, at least, triggered a chuckle. It would seem there is some eagerness for the week to move along, but there is no clear reason why.

Winston’s new medication regimen is underway. The new food is being integrated into the regular food for the transition period. His neck lumps seemed smaller tonight, but it could be my wishful thinking. Despite the lumps, he is behaving in the Winnie normal way, stretched out as king of the couch. He made his usual cameo appearances in the kitchen when Moose went outside to potty. 

Except for the new and improved layers of stress, it was mostly just another day, even if I didn't know what day is was for half of it.  

“Remoted” – Day 406 (Monday)

Some days feel like a pop quiz from the Universe. It's a surprise test of patience, fortitude, and everything else. Today was one of those days.

Right from the get-go the crap was flying. The paper that neglected to run our ad last Sunday and ensured it would run yesterday, ran an ad, it was just the wrong ad. The day went downhill from there.

I have a lumpy neck.

It turned out the crap day probably started sneaking in on Saturday when I noticed Winston’s glands near his jaw were a bit large – kind of like raisins. Sunday, they were bigger, and this morning they were as big as grapes and could be seen from across the room. He hasn’t fussed at all, and his appetite is still good. The vet was called first thing in the morning, and we got an appointment late in the day.  

There was no way of getting out of the house without Moose, so we all went. Forty minutes later and in the parking lot to the vet, both dogs tumbled out of the car to go potty. On the way back to the car, Moose decided to pause and squat in the middle of the parking lot to have a gigantic poop. The poop bags were in the car, so it was a sprint to fetch those. With two dogs on leashes, the reeking bag of poop that tested my gag relfex, the car keys, and the roll of bags, Moose was coaxed back into the car because he didn’t need to see the doggy doctor.

While putting Moose into the car, the roll of bags fell and rolled under the car. It kept rolling, or more exactly, unrolling, but also rotated so that a long strip of bags unfurled and blew in the breeze while the still rolled up part remained under the car. Pulling the loose end to retrieve the bags meant unrolling the entire thing. I’m sure this was funnier to watch than it was to live.

Winnie and his ample throat lumps went inside and I went back to the car and Moose. A doctor who I hadn’t met before was taking care of Winston today while I waited in the car. She called with an update, and was about as technical and blunt as you would never want anyone delivering news to be. She opened with, “mandibular glands … could be cancer,” and then steamrolled through a monologue full of medical terminology but I had already blanked out at “cancer.” I heard “blah blah blah might be infection from his horrible, horrible teeth … blah blah … his sugar is high again and diabetes can make him more prone to infection … blah blah … lost more weight …” Then it was another wait for some blood work to be done.

A small financial fortune and 1.5 hours later, we left with a receipt outlining the princely sum just paid thanks to the Honorable Master Card, a bag of dry prescription food with very vague instructions to transition from the old to the new food over seven days, three cans of wet food, a note to increase in the twice daily insulin dosage, and another appointment in two weeks. Depending upon the results in two weeks, there may be a test for Cushing’s, which is the condition that Moose has.

By the time we got back home, 3.5 hours had passed since we left and it was nearly 7:00, putting us two hours past doggy dinner time and insulin and bumping up on my self-imposed “no eating after 7:00 sole dietary guideline. There was a scan of the new insulin dosage which was on the box with the new vial, the antibiotic instructions were on the pill bottle, and the then trying to figure out the dry dog food. Thank goodness for leftover mac and cheese.

In addition to the work nonsense, and the stress and concern for Winston, today was also visited by one of the random bouts of envy for all the fortunate people with a significant other or a best friend to talk to or maybe the number for a comedy hotline for a laugh after a hella day. At the BungaLowell, the decompressing took place with another Prime video show about punk bands, "D.O.A.: Right of Passage."

“Remoted” – Day 405 (Sunday)

Chili pesto mac and cheese.

There is nothing lovelier than a leisurely Sunday. There was morning coffee and laundry, and a phone call with Mom that inspired the production of a baked macaroni and cheese. The mac and cheese is not the traditional creamy cheese recipe, but included a lightly spicy chili pesto, onions sauteed with a splash of wine, and a blend of provolone, jalapeno gouda, and feta cheeses topped with buttered breadcrumbs and parmesan. It was good, but not as creamy as I would have liked, and I should have stuck with Mom's traditional recipe. 

It was chilly and drizzly and not appropriate for breaking in the new Black and Decker trowel with some plant repotting. At the very least, the weather forecast should have been checked earlier for the daily temperature swing. Today had a 20-degree drop, which is slightly less drastic than the 30-degree swings of the past week, but still. The repotting could have been done indoors, but was vetoed for the potential mess.

Instead of playing in the drizzle and dirt, the afternoon involved a nap, which seems to have insinuated itself into the Sunday routine, and quality time with Prime video and music history. My musical taste is wide and possibly schizophrenic. It ranges from oldies – like Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven, and Strauss that I love from my early ballet days, and includes bits of everything else that came afterward and includes different dance styles. I used to love the shuffle setting on my iPod that could have a church hymn sung by Beth Nielsen Chapman followed by a screaming swear word song and then a quiet classical piano piece.

Today’s trip down memory lane included Sex, Drugs, Design: Warriors of the Discotheque, about the Starck Club in Dallas in the 80s. Although Dallas-Fort Worth was on my radar for much of my life, it was solely because Grandpa Ray lived in Forth Worth, and certainly not because I was attuned to the standout dance club on the scene. For the antics and drug use, Starck Club seems like it was the Studio 54 of DFW.

Following the streaming feature that suggests “Because you watched…”, next up was Punk Revolutions NYC: The Velvet Underground, The New York Dolls, and the CBGBs Set. Maybe next I can find a nice biography or costume drama about one of the beloved classical composers.

“Remoted” – Day 404 (Saturday)

Mother Nature’s 30-degree mood swings continue, but today was on the positive side with temps in the 70s. It’s been nuts with the variance from day to day. The pre-pandemic, spring casual ankle pants were dug out for a big day out of the house. Surprisingly, they still fit.

The first stop was the medication and sharps collection at the Health Department to drop off three boxes of insulin syringes from Winston’s twice daily shots during the DEA Medication and Sharps drop off day. I was, and still am a bit skeeved out that a picture was taken of my car as I drove up to the drop off spot. What is that about? Am I going to be on some watch list now, for wanting to properly dispose of sharps and avoiding the medical waste fee at the vet office? At least space has been reclaimed in the bathroom closet.

From the Health Department, it was a quick stop at the St. Vincent de Paul Society Thrift Store, mostly just because it was right there, and it’s bright, neatly organized, clean, and a pleasure to browse in. Ended up buying a some soon to be loved treasures – a blue patterned cotton knit shirt and a front zip shirt/jacket in a multicolor pattern that looks like the Crayola 120 crayon set had a meltdown, and a tan 100% cashmere sweater. The total cost was $4.07 because I have mad thrift store skills.

Once home again, time was spent relaxing in the house, on the steps to the deck, and in a chair on the deck. The evening featured The Brush Gallery’s Virtual Concert for the Visual Arts and online auction with performances by three solo artists and a duo. The event was broadcast on the local tv station, via Zoom, and on Facebook live, and delivered directly to my living room. It made the usual night in a bit nicer. And unlike an in-person event, there was no feeling awkward in a crowd and no small talk required. It was great, except for Moose wanting to go outside every five minutes, which reminded me of being a kid and getting that sudden, weird urgent need to ask Mom a question whenever she got on the phone. As soon as the livestream was over, Moose went to his bed for a nap, so it really did feel like that kid/mom/phone thing. 

“Remoted” – Day 403 (Friday)

The morning involved a stress-ridden wait for new files from the late edits of Thursday. I was trying to not be pushy, but also get the task at hand done. Finally, at 9:30, having heard nothing, the design firm was emailed a follow-up. It turned out they had missed the 4:18 pm email of Thursday. Had I not checked in, there might still be no file, so I guess it’s good I am sometimes like a dog with a bone.

For some bizarre reason, forwarding a PDF often results in an error message and Outlook email freezing. The likelihood of this occurring is directly proportional to the time sensitivity of the task. For approximately the 10th time this week, it happened and no emails would open, nor could I close the inbox. It took a while to sort out and the clock was ticking. Literally. The new white, silent clock was moved to the bathroom a while ago and the new green kitchen clock ticks like a bomb because I forgot about the silent feature when I was busy looking for the specific color. 

The lunch version of
 rice and curry.

Lunch was an inspired and super tasty blend of Jasmine rice and pretend chicken and the most delicious curry sauce to ever come in a jar, for which I thank the fine folks at Whole Foods for making it available. It was tempting to eat the whole bunch of it, but self-control was exercised. A shoulder was nearly dislocated as a result of the ensuing back-patting.

The afternoon involved knocking out several things and setting up the task list for next week and suddenly it was 4:30 and finally the last lap before the weekend. Supper was a breeze – more of the lunch concoction, with cauliflower and broccoli added, which added bulk and nutritional variety, but stretched the sauce a bit. It was soon followed by wine, because it has been one of those weeks. 

The mail with the new passport arrived at the usual time after supper and now I can start planning to wander the world. Not next week or anything, but hopefully soon. There are ten years before it expires, so there’s time.

“Remoted” – Day 402 (Thursday)

It was another work day spent against the ropes from start to finish and it was not fun. In spite of the issues and the never-ending edits and the project that just won’t go away, at least several other things were accomplished without incident.

While wrapping up what better be the last of the changes to the used to be fun, now I just want to cry project, there was an assertive knock on the front door. The dogs went from napping to yapping in about 2.5 seconds flat. They leapt from their beds in the kitchen and careened towards the door.  Their too-long-because-they-won’t-let-me-trim-them toenails clacked on the wood floors. As they ran, the tone of the barking changed from cute, tiny squeak toys to tiny squeak toys trying to sound ferocious.

There was a delivery man from the company with the Big Brown Trucks standing in the enclosed porch. This was not a surprise, as a message had come in the other day that a package requiring a signature would be arriving today, and another message today providing a delivery window. 

The package was set on the kitchen table to be dealt with later, as I was currently up to my armpits in flames as I continued to put out fires. It was my five-year anniversary gift from work. 

Anniversary!

After work and supper, I finally opened the box. The watch, chosen based solely on a photo and the most minimal description along the lines of “ladies watch,” is really nice and I love the separate logo charm because, yes, I have a charm bracelet. The watch is too loose on my bony, twig-like wrist, so it will need to be adjusted because I can’t figure out how to do it myself.

It turns out, the company I work for treats me better on a five-year anniversary than one of the husbands I reached that benchmark with. The first ex-husband pulled out all the stops at the five year anniversary with jewelry, but I can’t recall celebrating the five-year thing at all with X2. It’s a pretty good bet it involved his favorite “date night” activity -- walking around the Rural King farm supply store for the free popcorn and coffee they always had available. No, we were not farmers, but the store was close to where we lived. It was cute the first time, before I knew it was the only thing he would ever want to do on Saturday night for the next seven years. So yes, the nice watch from work feels special.

“Remoted” – Day 401 (Wednesday)

The day held surprises at nearly every turn, beginning with the resurrection of a quarterly project I had the unabashed audacity to think was finished last Thursday, that suddenly needed more edits today. Unfortunately, I don’t have all the edits, so I can’t move it along yet. I used to love this project, but in the past few quarters the number of cooks crashing into the kitchen has expanded and a two-page document that used to take a few days to complete now takes several weeks and the new edits pushed us to the seventh file version with the outside designer that works on it. This recurring project has been shoved off my favorites list.

Despite having painstakingly curated my produce selections last Friday, there was no box delivered today. The bank card associated with the account had expired and been replaced. When the charge attempted to go through, it was declined due to the mismatch of info, and I missed the messages until it was too late to correct. Oops.

Thanks to the self-healing toilet,
a bathroom redesign has been avoided.

Just before our afternoon team meeting, the toilet decided to go on strike and cease flushing. The lid was removed and I nervously peered into the abyss to see that there was barely an inch of water in the tank. My mind went immediately to the worst case scenario and wondering what color new toilet I should get. The current one is beige, as is the tub/shower. I neither love nor hate those fixtures. The sink/vanity top is an inoffensive beige and white stone type look set on a stained wood cabinet base that I don’t like, but don’t hate enough yet to change out. Simply avoiding looking at it has worked well.

It is clear that replacing the toilet would immediately turn into a total bath remodel and that is not a project I care to deal with. The all-knowing Google was checked with the fabulously descriptive search term “toilet tank has no water and won’t flush.” Results appeared with detailed instructions that seemed beyond the levels of skill or interest and the time available. While the tank was open, I touched something and suddenly the tank began to fill. The toilet fixing itself is clearly a miracle, and thanks to this wonderful miracle, the bathroom doesn't need to be redone. It would be easier to move than redo the bathroom, and I’m not in the mood for that, either.

“Remoted” – Day 400 (Tuesday)

This morning delivered the painful reminder of the cost and penalty of taking a couple vacation days. With a class scheduled for most of the morning (8:30 – 11:00), I logged into work at 7:30 to check emails. There were 121 emails in the inbox, plus the emails with press mentions and Google alerts that go directly to a designated folder to be dealt with at leisure. This is the punishment cloud that hovers over any time off. 

A check of the online newspaper links in the inbox revealed that the last-minute ad placed last Wednesday for Friday ran as scheduled, but the ad scheduled two months ago to run on Sunday and confirmed last Wednesday did not.

The morning class was Public Speaking. During the class, both dogs were desperately trying to participate by being extra barky, and needed to go out multiple times. I was cold, having dressed in only two layers after seeing the weather forecast for 71 degrees. Our five-minute class break involved dealing with the dogs and I never made it upstairs to grab a sweater and froze until the end of the class. Shivering burns 10 percent more calories, so maybe it’s not such a bad thing. Shoveling my way to a beach body didn’t quite work out, but maybe there’s hope in shivering to svelte.

Once I finally caved and got it, the sweater was worn all afternoon. This is probably weird for most people, but not that unusual for me. It reminded me of the time my family went to Florida when I was in high school. It was June and Mom, Dad, my brother and sister were all in the pool and I was in a chair poolside, dressed in jeans and a sweater.

The afternoon danced on the tightrope between busy and wicked busy, and thankfully avoided please just kill-me-now level busy. It’s probably lying in wait, ready to pounce on Wednesday or Thursday.

It was so busy, it never even registered that this was another milestone at Day 400 since everything skidded sideways and halted. As a result, there was no supper or dessert or dance party to commemorate the day. It’s okay, because my parties for one, which long predate the pandemic times, have gotten rather old and lackluster.

“Remoted” – Day 399 (Monday)

Several things happened today, which was another vacation day. None could be describes as thrilling, but none were horrible, so that is a solid win.

In a minor personal triumph, the artwork on the kitchen wall was finished. Sort of. The small framed recipes are not aligned quite right, and suddenly, the perfect photo for the kitchen wall is one that was delivered to the gallery on Saturday. One of the photos needed framing and a fingertip was sliced on the glass. It didn’t bleed right away, but when it did, luckily the blood smear landed on the back of the matt and not the front. 

The DNA results from Ancestry arrived, earlier than expected. The 50% Finnish was pretty much expected, but the absence of Swedish and the presence of 11% Scottish and 8% Irish were surprises. Apologies may be owed to a long string of random, St. Patrick’s Day drunk men over the years who insisted I was an Irish lass despite my objections that I am not. Turns out they weren’t wrong after all. 

The icing on the cake was the arrival of my new glasses from Zenni. For weeks I had been eye-balling aviator frames that come with magnetic clip on sunglasses, waiting for a coupon special. When I was in college and finally got contact lenses after having worn glasses since third grade, the first thing I did after leaving the eye doctor was go to Stuart’s Department Store and buy aviator sunglasses off the rack just like people who didn’t need prescription lenses to function. I have loved aviator sunglasses ever since. I have lost nearly every pair bought back when contacts still worked for me.

When I watched The Glorias on Netflix several weeks ago, an interesting movie about Gloria Steinem, my aviator frame coveting reached a fever pitch. After sitting in my shopping basket for weeks, the glasses were finally ordered on an inconsequential free shipping special ($4.95 savings). Less than a week later, the usual Zenni marketing email announced more aviator styles had been added and a 10% off sale, which would have saved more. Errr. Exactly what I was trying to avoid. But I have the glasses now and can finally stop stalking Zenni, EyeBuyDirect, and all the other online eyeglass sellers. There is no telling what I'll do in all the freed up time.

Based on items listed as available at my local Lowe’s store, and after tallying the balances on three Lowe’s gift cards, I drafted a list and drove to the store tis morning. The list included Rustoleum spray paint for the deck table frame, Rustoleum fabric paint for the deck umbrella, two rolls of garden fencing (9 rolls in invemtory!), bark mulch (5 bags for $10) and annuals for the various containers and flower beds. Despite help from two people working at Lowe’s, the fencing could not be located. This is why I hate shopping, Chapter 419.

A can of navy blue spray paint for the table was bought, but Lowe’s doesn’t have the fabric paint (Home Depot has Facebook ads running for it, which is how I knew it exists). The bark mulch was in the parking lot area of the Garden Center, which I didn’t learn until I had done two laps around the covered Garden Center looking for the fencing and the mulch. I went back inside to look at shovels and string trimmers, then forgot about the mulch until I was through the register and  headed for the exit. When I got home, the temperature was within the recommended range, but it was too breezy to spray paint.

While I was in the yard with the dogs and assessing the breeze, a family with several young children and an infant tumbled out the back door and into the yard of Neighbor Guy’s house. It was not Neighbor Guy or his wife, whose only younglings are two dogs. There were squeals and exclamations over the size of the yard and the shed, and I started feeling like an eavesdropper, so I headed inside. Looks like the nice neighbors are moving. Again. 

That big beautiful house next door seems to be a launching pad for whoever lives there, and the next owner will be the third since I moved to The BungaLowell in 2016. According to Zillow and Redfin, the house isn’t even on the market, despite several showings this afternoon and a lockbox on the door, and the value has gone up considerably since the current neighbors bought it in 2019. Maybe it's me who is driving the neighbors away, and if so, why don't my powers extend to the Nuisance House across the street?

“Remoted” – Day 398 (Sunday)

Being a Sunday, I was not able to regale innocent and unsuspecting listeners with random bits of Longfellow’s poem “Paul Revere’s Ride.” It’s fun to insert, “On the 18^th of April in seventy-five …hardly a man is now alive who remembers that famous day and year” into routine conversations. Or maybe that’s just me. The effect is not the same with no audience. The dogs don’t respond to my poetic ramblings like they do when they hear “meatball time” each morning at 7:00 and race into the kitchen. Moose gets his Vetoryl in a wet food meatball and Winston gets corresponding meatballs because it’s fair.

Today is the five-year anniversary of the day I started working at the bank. It’s been a great career chapter so far. Last month I was surprised by an email with a link to choose an anniversary gift. There were 45 items to choose from including luggage, grill tools, various jewelry items, and a bunch of other things I can’t remember. I chose a watch. 

In 2009 on this date, The Jezebellies danced in the afternoon at the popular annual Rivers and Spires Festival in Clarksville, Tennessee. That year we were at The Courthouse Stage – and we were allowed ON the stage instead of dancing in front of the stage. The view from up there was pretty cool. After our performance, a man from the Middle East came up to thank our group leader with tears in his eyes, because he was so happy to have heard music from his region of the world.

Winston the burrito.

Today had no dancing or celebrations. The notable events for this 18^th of April, and I use the term loosely, were the weekly harvest of dog poop from the yard in advance of weekly trash pickup, and falling asleep on the couch with the dogs for a couple hours during the afternoon. The falling asleep part of the day was never intended to last as long as it did, and resulted in missing a family gathering. By the time I woke up, it was 1.5 hours past the start time, and the gathering was 40 minutes away. 

There were feelings of guilt over missing the family event, but I couldn’t roll back the clock or time travel, so they were neither timely nor helpful feelings. Shortly after waking from the napping, I returned to the living room to find Winston had burrito wrapped himself in the couch throw. In Tennessee, he used to disappear and I would find him in my bed, neatly tucked under the covers. He is a talented pup.

The weeds in the back yard are growing in lush clumps, so it will be time to mow soon. The grass and patches of clover in between the weeds are less prolific. The front yard still looks like a dirt lot. The greenery marking the location of irises and lilies fared well through the snow and slush on Friday, and there is hope for the flowers to come, which is the fun of spring. Hopefully, I won’t sleep through that, too.

“Remoted” – Day 397 (Saturday)

Finally hung my wall
at The Brush.

Seventeen days into my first quarter as an associate artist at The Brush Art Gallery and Studios, I finally got my work delivered to be available for sale, which is pretty much the entire point of the exercise. The delivery delay was 100% due to my own processing procrastination.

The acrylic shelves I ordered came quickly, as did the labels and business cards. Most of the work was already framed or matted and protected in plastic sleeves, and ready to go the first weekend of April, except for the prices. The prices were finally noted on the tags and without overthinking it any further, today it was hung. It required banging photo hangers into the wall and screwing screws to attach the acrylic shelves. It went very well. The shelves could be both longer and deeper and may be swapped out for new ones. At a minimum, I need at least one more. 

Once back home, still riding the wave of banging nails and hanging stuff, I finally hung the kitchen wall. For at least a month and probably longer, the wall had been stripped since the replacement of the large clock with a smaller one. Paper templates had been hung with painter’s tape for the placement of the several pieces. It was rearranged several times, including as recently as Friday. When I entered the kitchen this morning and didn’t hate the arrangement marked in paper, it felt like there was finally a winner.

This is a pain to work with/around.

The nailing and hanging at home did not go as smoothly as it did at the gallery. Behind one of the pieces now hung in the kitchen are at least four errant nail holes. Part of the difficulty is trying to cover a relic of the olden days permanently affixed to the wall – a wall mount phone jack, which protrudes nearly a quarter inch from the wall. Some of the frames aren’t deep enough to set over the impediment on the wall, limiting the options. I took the panel off, but that left a hole with phone wires, which is not really better. 

There are two more spaces to fill and that wall will be done, except for the crying over the excess nail holes and a couple frames that are hung too close together and will probably drive me insane.  Maybe tomorrow. After making so many mistake holes today, it was time to quit, for the sake of both the wall and my sanity.

“Remoted” – Day 396 (Friday)

The Jezebellies, April 16, 2011.

Today was a fun Flashback Friday with the Facebook Memories. On this date in 2011, I was living in Clarksville, Tennessee, and it was the Saturday of the Rivers and Spires Festival downtown. That morning, my dance sisters and I, as The Jezebellies, performed on the wet asphalt in front of a stage on Strawberry Alley. 

In the earlier years of Rivers and Spires, we performed on the elevated stage, but then the festival stopped allowing the dance groups on the stage and we were all relegated to the pavement in front of the stage. Depending upon the time of day we were scheduled to dance, it was either in blazing afternoon sun on scalding pavement, or morning chill on the chilly, wet street.

In 2011, we were scheduled to perform in the morning. It had rained the night before, and was a 46 brisk degrees as we shivered in our costumes under a cloudy, gray sky and waited for the festival sound crew, which arrived late. Finally, things were ready and we shed our coats, did our performance, and scurried to warmer shelter. In my case, it was back home to prepare for part two of the day.

Suited up for the
roller derby demo.

Several hours after dancing, I had traded the harem pants and gold badlah set for tights, team jersey, pads, helmet, and roller skates with outdoor wheels to present a roller derby demonstration with my teammates on the Red River Sirens. A mini track had been marked out for us in the parking lot at First Baptist Church. The player positions (jammer, pivot, blockers) were explained, and we showed various drills and fundamentals of the game to the audience of festival attendees.  

That evening, the Sirens assembled again at the Festival to cheer on our teammate with a fantastic voice who was singing in the Clarksville’s Got Talent segment of the Festival. What. A. Day. What. A. Night.

In terms of hectic, busy, amazing, fantastically fun days, April 16, 2011 still stands out. Most of 2010 and 2011 were marked with amazing dates with belly dance performances and roller derby events ranging from chili cook-offs to car washes to bouts, and some days, events for both groups. Such good times. When I’m old and decrepit and living in a rest home, I’ll be thinking of “the good old days,” and especially 2010 and 2011 with The Jezebellies and Sirens.

“Remoted” – Day 395 (Thursday)

Today, the day in my head and the day on the calendar matched, which was a refreshing change from yesterday. It took a lot of energy yesterday to keep pulling my brain back into the right day. This was energy not available today, due to some late-night shenanigans. 

You awake?

Usually, it’s the dogs waking me up to go out to potty, but this morning, it was the neighbors across the street at the nuisance house. The house of annoyance has been quiet for several months, which lulled me into what now appears to be a false sense of contentment. 

Last night set things back onto the usual track, with loud talking in the street that woke me up at 1:30 am and continuing until 1:45. There was another wakeup at 2:15. And again at 3:00. This was much worse than being roused awake once by dogs for a few minutes. 

After the 2:15 wakeup I got out of bed to look out the window and assess the situation before burying my head under pillows. There were seven guys outside, dressed in sweatshirts and jeans, ball caps and sneakers, and at least that many extra SUVs double parked in the street. The talking was loud enough to hear that one guy was considered by the others to be too drunk to drive, and the rest were trying to keep him from driving and agree to be driven home by someone else.

The belligerent drunk insisted he was fine. Many times. Loudly. The ruckus was periodically punctuated by female voices. A couple times, someone mentioned that “it’s only Wednesday.” This was clearly weekend caliber partying, drunkenness and yelling, and never mind the neighbors with jobs to deal with in the morning.

The various chapters of this saga were audible with the windows closed, so the volume was clearly up to 11, as was my annoyance. At least there was quality sleep before the street performance and again from 3:30 until 6:00. Thank goodness for small favors.

“Remoted” – Day 394 (Wednesday)

Today was hopping busy at work, and it felt pretty good. There was a surprise project that popped up and was turned around from idea to done in one day, because we have a great team that can occasionally pull off miracles from minor to major. Today’s was the minor variety. The problem with miracles of any scope, however, is that once accomplished, and the possibility is known, the risk is it will be expected again. The next thing you know, it has become the normal way of things.

Pups between shenanigans.

There was the juggling of multiple projects with varying degrees of “hotness” and the fielding of a deluge of emails. Despite having gone outside right before a meeting, Moose kept barking during our team meeting, which was embarrassing. I couldn't mute the mic fast enough, and I'm sure I was on camera whisper yelling at him and going "shhhh"! It was not clear exactly what he wanted, but it got his butt sent outside at least once in case it was another need to potty. Winston sat in his bed the whole time, growling at Moose when he walked past. 

The undercurrent of the day was repeatedly thinking it was Thursday. This caused panic, which was alleviated upon realizing it’s only Wednesday, but it kept happening. It’s possible my brain is rushing the week because Friday and Monday are booked off as vacation days. There aren’t any grand plans over the four day weekend except to not work. The weather for Friday is predicted to be rainy and cold and quite unlike last Friday or Saturday when it was nice, but still, I’ll be off the clock and that is nice. Off the work clock, not the dog clock, because there is never a vacation day from the commitment to the Canine Overlords.

Gotta love spring.

There is a chance of being off the yardwork chore clock, too, with the cold and blowy weather that is predicted. Wind and rain seem imminent, but the words “Nor’easter” and “snow” were also mentioned in one forecast. That’s spring in New England – it’s always a roller coaster ride. 

A storm could be the perfect backdrop for baking. The pantry was previously stocked with rye flour and yeast and ingredients for several recipes from the still unused Finnish Cookbook. 

At least the snow line shifted in a later report. "Heavy, rain, snow for some" will hopefully apply to "not here." The map later in the day forecasts Lowell with just a coating to two inches. With luck, there may be no need for shoveling. 

“Remoted” – Day 393 (Tuesday)

The Hallmark Channel romance movie streak has been severed, temporarily anyway. The nightly viewing of predictable, fluffy movies has been interrupted by crime stories on Netflix. It started with the changing of the clocks a few weeks ago. The clocks were moved ahead by an hour, but the Hallmark Movie schedule stayed put. The movies I had been watching after work started at 5:00, but after the clock change, they began at 4:00. It took me a few evenings of confused head scratching trying to figure out why the after-work movies were suddenly half over. I hate starting a show that is in progress, so I would wander over to Netflix, where it’s possible to watch without an appointment.

The opposite of Hallmark.

The diversion started with “The Serpent,” based on “shocking true events” and a “merciless killer” who preys on travelers in the 1970s, making it pretty much the polar opposite of a Hallmark Channel movie. The story was interesting in a holy crap kind of way, and a little gory and made me wonder about how some people are wired -- both the trusting and the murderous. There were also some cool clothing and eyeglass fashions depicted. 

From the international murder story, the next entertainment was “This is a Robbery: The World’s Biggest Art Heist,” about the unsolved art theft from Boston’s own Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. This intriguing mystery mentions lots of familiar Boston names from news stories. It’s amazing the works were stolen and more amazing they have never been found.

Tonight, it was the start of “Fear City: New York vs The Mafia,” about organized crime in New York City in the 1970s and 80s. It’s a gruesome, yet refreshing change from happy, sappy couples falling in love. An amusing quote from an FBI agent described monitoring a bug placed in a mafia household. She said, “It was a total immersion into the life of a Mafia household. So, I never heard so many creative uses of the F-word in my life.”

It’s a little disappointing there weren’t some specific examples of the creative F-word usage, because my repertoire could use some freshening. It reminded me of feeling let down by the series “Without a Trace,” which ran on CBS from 2002 to 2009. I was excited about that show when it started and watched it for a while, hoping for helpful tips on how to disappear without a trace, but it was just another series featuring FBI cases about missing people and not a single tip on how-to successfully go missing. Talk about a deceptive title.

The Hallmark break hasn’t been all murder and crime. There have been some standup comedy shows between the crime stuff, because sometimes a laugh is needed and balance is necessary. Tom Papa is pretty funny. He looks like he could be anyone’s accountant dad, and he tells some good stories. I keep telling myself that once it gets warmer, I’ll sit on the deck after work and read. We’ll see. At least for now, it’s crime and mayhem.

“Remoted” – Day 392 (Monday)

It was chilly today and I was not exactly a fan of the temperatures in the 40s, but at least it wasn’t the 30s. Or snowing. Cooler temps are great for sleeping, but it's not so much fun for sitting and working all day. It felt like today's weather was draining the life force from me. There was a late  morning hot cocoa break, which helped kill the chill briefly. 

Back to soup weather.

Each of the 10,000 times I let the dogs outside there was a bit of grumbling and some heavy sighing and a wish that the weather was ten degrees warmer. Even five degrees warmer would have been be an improvement. While I grumbled, the dogs barked, but I don't know if we were vocalizing about the same thing. 

In addition to the deeply disappointing flashback act of turning the heat back on today, the wardrobe had its own flashback. There was a base layer under a spring sweater, which felt reasonable, but after opening the door once for the dogs, the denim jacket was grabbed from the back of the chair and put on. It stayed on all day. 

Luckily, Sunday’s activities included soup making, so there was a quick hot lunch available. And tomorrow holds promise, with a forecasted high of 62, so maybe I can skip the third layer again. 

“Remoted” – Day 391 (Sunday)

Willard Brook State Forest.

Nature has been calling and today, I finally answered when a couple friends and I met at Willard Brook State Forest to hike. I’ve driven through this park and past it countless times, but haven’t stopped the car to enjoy it. 

Today was the day to visit this forest. My friends live close to Mount Watatic, which we've climbed several times, and which has been really busy lately. The MidState Trail runs through the woods that are practically in their backyard, but today was a great chance to expand our wooded horizons. The several months of not seeing these friends and the housebound isolation had worn on my psyche.

Even though I live near the Lowell, Dracut, Tyngsboro State Forest, I have been there only once, three or four years ago with my niece. It had been months since my last trip to the woods for hiking, although there were the two Saturdays of snowshoeing at Saima Park before the cardiac adventure temporarily derailed all activity. 

Grill graveyard.

Today's walk was old-school and unplugged. We followed the markers for the “Friends” and “Butterscotch” trails, and listened for sounds of the road. We saw only one other person on the trails, a man with a beautiful German Shepherd. The technology stayed in my pocket, except to take a few photos. There was no “map my walk” step counter activated for the obsessive tracking of steps and calories, partly because I forgot until we were done. There were no social media check-ins, just because. 

Near a little picnic grove there was an apparent graveyard heap of rusted and broken grills that have outlived their usefulness. We chatted as we walked on the trails and when we were done, we sat at a picnic table near Damon Pond and talked. The therapeutic and restorative effects of the woods and friends were much needed.  

“Remoted” – Day 390 (Saturday)

It was another beautiful day and now I’m just waiting “for the other shoe to drop.” We’ve had three or four consecutive days with beautiful spring weather. The heat has been off and the windows open, but this is no time to drop the guard. This is New England and it's only April, so any minute now there could be a blizzard or a raging ice storm. When I was in high school we had a snow day in May, and ever since then I’ve had a deep suspicion of spring. There always seems to be a trick or two lurking in the freshly blooming forsythia.

Super cool, probably not practical
car like this was seen on 495N.

The beautiful day was spent driving to Worcester for a freshening of the hairdo and back, which afforded a prime opportunity to scrutinize cars in traffic and try to find something, anything at all actually,  with a body style I like. There were two! And the bad news is, one was a super cool tan-colored 1965 Barracuda – which I only know from the very helpful license plate “65 CUDA” and "Barracuda" on the side. I followed it on 495 for a while, just to check it out. This would probably not be a practical car for me and the dogs.

I was also noticing Jeeps, which, beside the beautiful Mercedes Benz SUV on the Honda lot a few weeks ago, seem to be the only other vehicle with a shape I like. Any time I saw a Jeep nearby, I tried to get alongside it to see the model, because “4 x 4” seems to be on the back of every single one of them and isn’t helpful. Today I saw two Jeeps I really liked. Both were "Liberty."

When I got home, I looked up "Jeep Liberty" and they haven’t been made for the US market since about 2012 due to not meeting emissions standards. Also, the gas mileage is abysmal at 16 mpg city/22 highway. Looks like my 17-year old car will be hanging around for another 17 years at this rate. 

Cute neighbor puppy
 wants to play.

I checked the new Jeep models online and I like the newer Renegade - in blue, but according to the online inventory, it looks like every lot in the area either sold all theirs, didn't get any, or don't put all their inventory online. There are plenty of the other models I don't care for. It's feeling like I'm already over the car shopping thing. This is why I don't have new things. It's too much work.

Realizing there was no need to dash off to a car lot to see a model that isn’t currently in production or is in production but doesn't seem to exist locally, I sat on the sunny deck, wandered the yard (which is really quick because it’s the size of a postage stamp), and patted the neighbor dogs through the fence. 

Again, new neighbor puppy was all about the socializing, while Winston was a bit timid and Moose was aloof, bordering on outright antisocial. He also kept a watch on me to make sure I didn’t get too familiar with new puppy, who was acting like he might try to tunnel his way under the fence. 

“Remoted” – Day 389 (Friday)

Fast and tasty.

The weather was gorgeous again today. Windows were opened and lunch of a slab of leftover pizza was had outside on the deck. It felt good to sit for several minutes in the sunshine doing a lot of nothing at all. 

There was also a quick visit through the fence with the two neighbor dogs, who seem to be the quietest, most well-behaved pups on the planet. They play in the yard often and I’ve never heard either one of them bark. The neighbor dogs  were eager to socialize, but Mister Moosie cranky pants wanted no part of it. Winston was more sociable, sniffing though the spaces between the fence pickets to greet the neighbors.

Quitting time at 5:00 was eagerly awaited for another visit to the deck. A quick supper of salad was made with cabbage, cauliflower, carrot, apple, and raisins in a basic slaw dressing of mayonnaise, vinegar, lemon juice, and sugar. It was made primarily out of a self-imposed obligation to use the veggies before they get weird and the bonus was it tasted really good. 

Deck in the 5:30 pm not sun.

After the salad was eaten, wine was poured into a plastic wineglass with plans of sitting on the sunny deck in a meditative, vegetative, relaxed state. It was a disappointment. The deck, not the wine. The wine is delicious. Except for a tiny sliver of sun near the door, the deck was shaded. There was an immediate retreat back into the house, the couch, and Netflix. The dogs leapt onto the couch and immediately went to sleep. 

In a couple weeks, at 5:30 the deck will be in full blazing sun and Friday wine o'clock can occur outside. Until then, it’s early evening shade and the sun will have to be enjoyed at lunchtime. 

“Remoted” – Day 388 (Thursday)

Bleeding Hearts last year.

The weather was so nice today that it inspired yard work. The Bleeding Heart plant that I love near the front door had grown huge by last summer, and the plan was to split it. The timing was right today, with the first shoots just coming up. It was tougher than expected, and the remaining trowel that survived last summer’s transplanting of irises, lilies, and hosta nearly succumbed to today’s activities. It is definitely time to invest in some gardening tools. Maybe this year I’ll spring for something from a proper gardening center instead of Family Dollar.  

As of this evening, there are several Bleeding Heart plants in the back yard. Two are near the lilac bush that looks like it may finally bloom this year. Some of the over crowded irises near the shed were also dug up and relocated to the new flower bed edged out last year. The only problem is I forgot what I planted there already and where, so it may get a bit crowded when things start popping up, assuming the mid-summer transplants took.

Bleeding Heart shoots
 before the split.

I headed outside immediately after finishing work, without changing out of the pale pink cotton sweater I had on in an attempt to look “presentable” for video meetings today. At one point, I reflexively shoved the dirty tools and gloves under my arm and got dirt all over the sleeve and body of the sweater, and another time, I pushed my sleeves up with the dirty gloved hands, as if wearing my usual yard sweatshirt. Oops.

Two of the deck chairs were hauled out from the shed so the next time I want to sit outside, I can do it in comfort instead of on a stone step. The table was stored in the shed for the first time this winter and it will take a while to get the parts out and reassemble it, so that will wait for now.

Baby steps. An iris here, a plant there, a deck chair or two. The table and umbrella and the other two chairs. It will get done. All in good time.

“Remoted” – Day 387 (Wednesday)

It was another quick walk down memory lane when Facebook Memories reminded me that on this date in 2011, the ribbon cutting was held to officially open the Fort Defiance Civil War Park and Interpretive Center in Clarksville. It was a beautiful, sunny, warm Tennessee day.

That's me in the goofy sunglasses
at the ribbon cutting!

Early on April 7, 2011, I had posted on Facebook “Fort Defiance Interpretive Center ribbon cutting today! I hope I don’t do something really stupid like cry when I see my script writing credit in the video.” It was followed later in the day with “update: did not cry during my video credit … it was much earlier during the National Anthem. Was super glad to be wearing big Hollywood sunglasses.” 

While Clarksville never saw battle during the Civil War, it was occupied over a four-year period by both Confederate and Union forces. There are diaries chronicling the time period, which were part of the research. The marketing agency I was lucky to be working for, BLF Marketing, partnered with local historians to research and write the information for the interpretive panels along the walking trails and the museum exhibit. We teamed with a local brilliant video producer to create the film, “Crossroads of Change: Clarksville Tennessee 1861-1865,” shown in the theater at the interpretive center. The video and exhibits tell the story of Clarksville during the period of occupation.

The Fort Defiance project is high on the list of favorite projects of my career. It was exhilarating being part of the historical research and script writing, and seeing my name in the scriptwriting credits the end of the film was an extra bonus. The project is a huge, mushy, fond spot in my heart and a high point of my time in Clarksville. It’s not often I got to spend weeks eyeballs deep in researching history and grand projects like this one don’t come along every day, except maybe in my dreams, which means I'll be bragging about this for a very long time.

“Remoted” – Day 386 (Tuesday)

Not the actual cabins, but close enough.

At recent team meetings, we’ve been reminded about scheduling vacation time, which has me thinking about vacations to come, and vacations of ago. There have been many good vacations – defined as including any combination of fun, relaxation, and/or entertainment.

As great as the fun vacations were, the cloud of one particular vacation lurks in the background. While married to ex-husband two (aka X2), we took a vacation with his parents and family friends to Gananoque, Ontario, Canada, “the gateway to the 1,000 islands,” to stay in cabins near the water. 

The trip began with a flight from Tennessee to Pennsylvania to meet up with the in-laws, followed by a planned early morning departure by car from Pennsylvania to Canada. There were several cars in the plan, and we were passengers with X2’s parents. Everyone else had been to Gananoque and the specific cabin resort where the tidy white cabins were arranged in a semi-circle around a large grassy area. I was the newbie.

There was a hiccup at the start when X2 and I arrived at the beautiful Allentown, Bethlehem, Easton airport and our luggage did not. We were told it might arrive on the first flight in the morning, due a couple hours after our vacation caravan was scheduled to leave for our international adventure. On the way to the in-law’s home we stopped at WalMart for toiletries and pajamas. The next morning, our luggage had still not arrived, and the airline offered to deliver it to our destination in Canada. The in-laws, X2 and I drove off, a couple hours behind schedule, and half of us were missing our carefully curated vacation clothes. Somehow, the luggage beat us to Canada and was at the check-in desk when we arrived.

The week had a schedule. I was the only one unaware of any of the key aspects of the plans for the week. Every day at 8:00 am we went out on the boat and fished until noon. After a one-hour lunch, it was back on the boat for another four hours. The houses on the islands were beautiful and mink ran along the rocks. We returned each day empty handed, because except for Friday, all the fish were tossed back. I was great with the release part, but it felt stupid to bother doing the catching. It seems cruel to lure a fish with bait and a hook it by the mouth, yank it out of the water, get the hook out, and send it back into the water. Let’s just let the fish enjoy their day without the confusion and trauma.

Once docked for the night, the men played horse shoes and drank beer and hung around outside the cabins. Inside the cabin, my mother-in-law and I cooked, served, and cleaned up after dinner. Then we cleaned the cabin. Apparently, only the guys were on vacation, and the women had been conscripted to labor camp. On Friday, the fish caught on all the boats were kept and the guys cleaned and cooked them. 

Because every one else in our group of four cabins had been to the cabin resort in Gananoque many times, they weren’t interested in sightseeing. Nearly every evening, they sat around talking about all the activities done on previous trips. Once, we all went into town for ice cream, and one day I managed to stay at the cabin and not fish. The plan was to watch the Tour de France, but my rest day from Labor Camp was also a rest day for the Tour. I read a book instead. 

There was a huge temptation to run away from hard labor camp, which would have required stealing both the keys and my father-in-law’s car, and trying to navigate out of Canada without a navigation system in the days before having a cell phone. Despite the potential for great excitement and a huge improvement in my Gananoque so-called “vacation,” running away was ruled out. It was the longest, most laborious vacation ever, and I hope to never repeat it.