“Remoted” – Day 533 (Tuesday)

The past five years have both flown and dragged. A lot has happened and not much has happened. Today is the anniversary of buying the Bungalowell. Immediately, work was done to the floors, and it took a couple weeks to get to unpacking a storage unit that sat in the driveway containing remnants of my life from Tennessee. The fantasy guest room has still not become reality. It continues to look like I’m plotting a quick getaway with the unpacked boxes which are the reason there is no guest room.

There were fanciful imaginings about living in a neighborhood where I had friends and we sat on each other’s porches and sipped wine or lemonade depending upon the time of day, and occasionally had backyard cookouts. I would learn to play card games with these neighbors and we might play Scrabble, my favorite game. I’ve heard stories of neighborhoods like this and even know real, live people who live in them in real, actual life. Just not me. That wasn’t my neighborhood in Tennessee, nor in Lowell. I'm the common denominator, so it must be me.

The deck is ready for guests.

Every time I see a Facebook post about friends' neighbor get-togethers, I admit to feeling a little pang of jealousy. Three times so far in Lowell, when neighbors and I were starting to become friendly, they moved away. It's enough to instill some deep paranoia. And there was the missed opportunity that time a couple years ago when someone left the anonymous note in my mailbox inviting me to share some “sweet love” and all I had to do was circle yes and leave it under the flower pot. In retrospect, I should probably have jumped on that friendly overture.

For the five-year anniversary, just like the four year celebration, there were gifts for The BungaLowell. It started early in the summer with a deck refresh via a coat of paint on the table and and the fabric spray paint on the umbrella. The guest room may not be ready for guests, but the deck is. In July, there was the small gift of a modestly priced new garbage disposal, but this was apparently not enough. A week later, the house got a bit bossy and demanded the much pricier hot water heater. I hope the house spirit is appeased. For a while anyway. Maybe I should start thinking now about the house's anniversary gift for year six.

“Remoted” – Day 532 (Monday)

It was a day of, what a couple of my colleagues refer to as, MOTS – “More Of The Same.” Lather. Rinse. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat. 

There was work, leftovers for lunch, more work, Hulu (the streaming platform of choice right now) and writing. The big excitement is battery issues with both the new laptop and the cell phone. The cell drains power doing nothing, and the laptop won't charge half the time, leaving me with a challenge trying to back it up before I send it off for service. Technology is great until it isn't.

Winnie at rest.

Winston is so mellow during the workdays it is almost scary. He sleeps most of the day. There is no Moose to harrass. I feel bad, especially after seeing how excited he gets when guests or service people are here and he is energetic like a puppy. 

I also worry about Winnie for the days when I'll be gone for nine-plus hours. While Moose was an only dog for a year before Winston, Winnie has not been the only dog the entire time I’ve known him. 

Between dog worries, wardrobe worries, and the blood chilling fear of being in a space with other people and trying to curtail my potty mouth, I’m a nervous wreck over the idea of returning to civilization. 

In the golden olden days before the pandemic, I was known for whisper swearing at my desk, which amused a couple interns greatly, but being alone and with no audience, it has been a free-flowing potty tirade on many occasions. 

The return to the office could be very exciting. There could be accidental  fireworks from the feral marketing person. Or maybe, I can manage to channel my best behavior. We’ll know in a couple weeks.

“Remoted” – Day 531 (Sunday)

It's been a while since visiting thrift stores was regular entertainment. It used to be a weekly or bi-weekly event, mostly for an excuse to leave the house, and sometimes to fulfill a need for specific wardrobe or household items. 

Today featured a trip to Salem, NH, a town which includes both Aldi and a Goodwill Store. These are both stores I shop at, but never before in Salem. Aldi was the primary reason for leaving the house, to restock items, especially after seeing the weekly flyer featuring some low prices on mums, mushrooms, blueberries, and cheese. It became a $50 adventure with two shopping bags and a box loaded with breakfast bars, corn chips, salsa, cookies, frozen pizza, ice cream, and more. I almost forgot the mums, but spotted the rack as I got into the checkout line and dashed over to grab a maroon one.

Thrift store score - $20.

I was like a kid at Disney marveling over the variety and prices. Some of the prices felt like flashbacks to when I first started shopping Aldi years ago – like the corn chips that are like Fritos, but cost 65 cents a bag instead of nearly $3.

Before Aldi, it was a visit to Goodwill in hopes of finding a very specific soup bowl shape and some curtains. Neither of these items was found, but there was a $20 score that included four frames still wrapped in the original plastic, a puzzle in the original plastic wrap, two mini muffin pans, and a magazine rack which will probably go on the front porch as a holder for the gardening tools currently strewn across a table. These made up for the absence of soup bowls and curtains. 

Skillet veggies and feta.

Back at home, the Sunday cooking involved a stir fry. It used the bounty of the gardens of friends and family including summer squash, zucchini, green beans, potatoes, and beets. This was supplemented by the mushrooms from Aldi and some riced cauliflower found in the freezer and finished with feta cheese. 

Yesterday, there was a visit to a new antiques store in Lowell. The place was packed with a ton of furniture including full sets of cabinetry in black lacquer like I saw in Korea, where armoires, chests, and dressers were used in lieu of closets. There were dining sets, and chairs labeled as being from hotels and many framed art pieces. It made me wish I had a place like my Victorian house in Fitchburg or my massive apartment in Worcester. There was nothing that looked like it would work in The BungaLowell. Maybe next time.

The day began and ended with shows on Hulu -- Nine Perfect Strangers, and finally, the fourth season of The Handmaid's Tale, which has been out for months but I just never bothered to watch it.

“Remoted” – Day 530 (Saturday)

Real estate. 

Around 8:15 this morning I headed over to Boarding House Park to stake out real estate for the show at 7:30 pm. There were already many blankets and chairs set out, but the blanket was planted and a spot secured for myself and two friends for the Richard Thompson show. It was behind one of several roped off spots and on a higher level of the park. There were roped off areas for VIP seating and handicap access, so I knew to not go inside the ropes. 

Then, it was off to the oral surgeon for a 9:00 consultation for the tooth that broke in February 2020 and has already undergone a year and a half of issues. The dental office website provided a street address, which seemed straightforward and was used to navigate via Waze. I imagined it would be like my doctor’s office, on a clearly defined street, in a building marked with a number and perhaps a sign with the name of the practice. 

Instead, the directions took me onto a campus of Lowell General Hospital where all the buildings were plastered with the names of donors and benefactors and none (except one) had numbers. The only building with an address on it was 2 Hospital Drive, which was not my destination. I saw two guys who seemed to work at the hospital and asked them which building was 33 Bartlett for the oral surgeon. It was the building closest to 2 Hospital Drive which was labeled with somebody’s name and which I had driven past three times. Nowhere on the building was there an indication of the practices inside. Nowhere on the practice’s website information did it mention any helpful nuggets like being on the hospital campus inside a named building or across the street from the Emergency Center. Thank goodness I got there really early.

Seen at the
sound board.

As for the appointment, it was a ten-minute visit which will likely cost me $60 in co-pay fees and is the first step is a series of steps over the space of the next ten months. At least I will know where the office is located in October when I go back. 

Late in the afternoon, my friends and I headed downtown. We dropped the rest of our chairs in the park before heading to dinner. That is when we discovered that the great spot found in the morning was actually behind two canopies and the sound board. We could still see the stage, so we didn’t try to relocate. Once the show began, we also had a view of partial butt crack on one of the sound guys, which made the decision to not relocate seem less wise but more amusing.

It was a nice night, as in not too hot and humid, but it was also cloudy. It sprinkled a little when we were eating on the restaurant patio. Luckily, the skies stayed dry for the show. Richard Thompson was great. The man can play guitar, and it felt so good to be out at a show with friends. It was the perfect finale to the day. 

“Remoted” – Day 529 (Friday)

Summer is winding down and it seems we are now in the height of survey season. It’s completely understandable that companies want feedback from their customers about their products, services, and performance. We conduct surveys at my work of both customers and team members, so I get it, and apparently, so does every other company and service provider on the planet. A voluntary survey on a receipt is one thing, but dang, I’m tired of being bombarded and badgered with text and email surveys.

In the past couple weeks alone, requests to complete surveys have been received from the chiropractor’s office, the plumbing company that installed the water tank, the company providing the 401k at work, and the produce company from whom my orders have dwindled since their ordering format was changed.

I’m burned out on surveys (among other things), especially the ones that drag on for a million screens and lack the choice for my actual answer. If I didn’t answer the first request, I am probably not interested, but go ahead, keep bugging me and see what answers you get.

Fresh, but crushed

The produce company wanted to know why I haven’t been ordering lately. There are multiple reasons, including the new $30 minimum order which means buying stuff I don’t want to meet the minimum. Once received, there is the dealing with the science experiments that happen before I can use the stuff. The last few times I ordered, the boxes arrived battered and some of the contents were broken. 

During recent order attempts, there weren’t even all the ingredients to make a salad. Some weeks there would be 15 varieties of lettuce, but no tomatoes. Then it would be a bunch of different tomatoes, but no lettuce or cukes. In the same amount of time needed to shop their website, I can take my $30 minimum, go to Market Basket, and return with an entire order of things I want. One of my suggestions on the produce survey was to change shippers, because I received a lot of beaten up boxes  containing broken items.

As for the 401k provider, their survey featured several questions with a 10-item radio button scale ranging from “would definitely not recommend” to “would highly recommend.” First, I didn’t choose this company, it came with the benefits package. I rarely visit the website because I can never remember my password, it’s a pain in the neck to log into, there isn’t much I can do about the performance of my 401k, and monitoring it just stresses me out. After several nagging requests to my work email to complete their customer satisfaction survey, I finally did it this morning. They were bestowed a 5 out of 10 on every single question, my equivalent of “don’t care.” Would I recommend them to anyone? I don’t know. Anyone I would speak to about investing (basically nobody) would likely be an individual and my experience as one of hundreds of participants in a company sponsored 401k plan won’t matter anyway. This survey had no option for a free form response, so it felt like they didn’t really want to know what I really think.

The plumbing company seems very eager to hear what I think. They’ve asked twice by email and twice by text. The first three feedback requests were about the service call. To start, the crew was four hours late. The sacrifice of an entire vacation spent waiting for them to arrive, then leave and return with the water tank, then install it did not make for my favorite vacation day of an otherwise crappy vacation week in an overall crappy month. 

I have avoided unloading on them, but if they keep pushing, they will get an earful. Two days after the installation, I called to ask for a receipt which had not been received yet. The office person called a couple days later to verify I received the receipt, then tried to sell me a maintenance plan. After that,  there was a text to provide feedback about the phone call. Relentless! 

I've lost count of how many surveys had what I saw to be flaws in the answer options. Too many surveys don’t have an option for "not applicable" and force answers that don’t apply. One demanded answers to questions about children and other household members I don’t have. Amazon loves to ask for reviews of individual Whole Foods grocery items, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to review every can of beans and bag of chips I buy. Enough!

Catch me in the right mood, and I will thoughtfully answer the survey. Keep bugging me about it, and it might not be very civil

“Remoted” – Day 528 (Thursday) National Dog Day

Winston and Moose, earlier times.

Today, my Facebook memories feature was full of photos from past years of National Dog Day. It was bittersweet looking at photos.

It’s interesting to see the changes over the  years as white hair filled in Moose’s face. Winston seems to hide his age better, maybe because his face and coat are partly white and light tan already. He just has a couple telltale white hairs in the solid black part of his back. 

It’s weird with just Winston around, but I’m getting used to the new daily rhythms. He doesn’t get up until I get up in the morning, which means I now get to sleep every day until 6:15 when the alarm goes off. During staycation, we slept until 7:30 or later nearly every day, and weekends are now full of potential for sleeping in. Winston stays upstairs, posed at the top of the staircase until I call him for breakfast, and comes downstairs only after he hears the special prescription kibble hit the bowl.

Winston and Moose, 2020.

Unlike Moose, who would begin begging for supper sometimes as early as 3:30, I have to call Winston to supper, and like breakfast, he doesn’t appear until the food has hit the bowl and the bowl is in place on the floor. This little guy is not going to waste his time standing around in the wings waiting for the food to be ready. 

Moose used to stay in the kitchen/office with me all day, rotating between laying in his bed, under my desk, and behind the desk chair. Maybe he was keeping an eye on me the same way I kept my eye on him. 

Winston values independence and slips off on his own, napping on the couch or laying in the sliver of sunshine on the dining room floor during the day, appearing only periodically to beg for treats and occasionally to go outside to potty.

Winston, 2021.

At 10:00, Moose, aka “Little Big Ben” thanks to his acute sense of time, would walk over and stare at me until I acknowledged that yes, it’s bedtime. Winston does not share this rigid concept of time, and sleeps in the living room until I wake him up and tell him we’re going to bed.

It’s become pretty clear over the past couple weeks who the real head of household was since 2009, and it wasn’t me. Without the guidance of Overlord Moose, keeper of the schedules, the past few weeks things have gotten really lax at the BungaLowell with sleeping late and eating at different times.  It will be interesting to see how this plays out over time.

“Remoted” – Day 527 (Wednesday)

Five star lunch.

Work had all the excitement (and the term is used loosely) that comes with craziness arriving from out of the blue. The morning started powered by caffeine and then got a big boost of adrenaline when the business end of the cell phone charger cord landed in a fresh, full cup of coffee. Luckily, there is almost always rice in the house, and a shot glass was used to hold the rice and the cord end. The adrenaline boost continued throughout a series of urgent tasks and hoop jumping that consumed most of the day. It was one thing after another. The morning gets two stars out of five.

Lunch was a suitable reward for the punishment of the morning. The squash, zucchini, rice, and cheese casserole made on Sunday was delicious on day one and reheats well. Today, it was presented with a side of fresh green beans. The crispness of the green beans was a nice counterpoint to the creaminess of the rice and baked veggies. Lunch gets five stars. 

Free yard gym.

After work, the back yard was visited for completion of Tuesday's mowing project. The clippings dried nicely in the day’s sunshine and were raked into piles. It was hot work, and the piles were abandoned before long and a retreat to the A/C initiated. When it got cooler outside, but before it was dark, it was back outside to scoop the piles into the yard waste barrel. The clippings, representing 15 days growth encouraged by plentiful rain, filled the barrel.

The yardwork officially counts as two consecutive days of workouts. The free gym/yard facility gets five stars for affordability, but the equipment is rather primitive with a rake and a barrel. Three stars for equipment. The gym/yard staff could exhibit more personality and as a result, three stars. At least there was no swearing tonight. HR might need to be involved for some staff coaching about attitude towards gym patrons. Wait, those are all me. 

“Remoted” – Day 526 (Tuesday)

When Winston has been out in the yard the past several days, the grass and weeds were up to his belly. Front yard, back yard, each was overgrown with the mix of greenery that is heavy on weeds and light on grass. He would lift his feet high as he picked his way through the yard, and I could imagine him thinking whatever the canine equivalent of "ewwww" is. 

Thanks to today’s break in the rain, it was possible to mow the yard after work and it was the usual fun and games. Once the sun was low enough and the yard shaded, it was show time. There was the ceremonial grand entrance of the mower from the shed to the yard, and the mandatory checking and topping off of the gas. There was the usual difficulty in pulling the cord to start the mower.

Winnie sometimes sleeps funny.

Thanks to yesterday's rain, the too tall grass was dry on top and wet further down just like every other mow this summer, and just like every other mow this summer, the wet grass clumped under the mower, jammed the blade, and stopped the mower. This happened three times, which seems to be par for the mow, this summer, anyway. The third time it stopped was in the front yard, and as I muttered colorful cuss words to the mower, the guy next door appeared from the path to the brook. I avoided looking at him, partly in embarrassment that I was soaked in sweat in my front yard, swearing at a lawn mower and surrounded by clumps of wet grass pulled from underneath.

It was not a personal best time, but it was also not the worst, and it’s done now, so there’s that. Once  Winnie awakens from his sprawling nap on the couch, he should have an easier time going out to potty, so that is the real benefit. Unlike the last time I mowed, Winnie stayed inside which spared me the extra task of wiping green grass stains from his paws. This also felt like a win. Sleep will be under the blanket of victory tonight.

“Remoted” – Day 525 (Monday)

Winnie!

Today was the first workday back from vacation. Ugh. There were 283 emails in the inbox, and another 100 in the segregated folder of stuff that don’t need to be dealt with right away. There have been Mondays with  95 emails after just one or two days off, so I had expected worse from being out for six work days. First couple hours of the day get four stars out of five. 

Around midday, my phone shrieked with a tornado alert, in effect for an hour. When the alert was over, another shrieked in for another hour. The generally crazy New England weather has been extra crazy over the past few days thanks to Henri. The tally now is, Thursday, tornado warning (thrice), Saturday and Sunday, hurricane/tropical storm/flood warnings, Monday, tornado warnings with three tornadoes spotted in the state. What, what? No tornadoes in Lowell, but there was more rain.

The day at the desk, fortunately, was less dramatic than a tornado. After the full day of sitting at the desk, it was time for the chiropractor. Despite recent stress, Dr. G said it was the best adjustment so far, but he has said that before, so either it's a standard line, or my back really is improving. 

Being out of the house for anything often means stopping at Family Dollar. There is something about the allure of low prices and convenience, and true to form, today was no different. The mission was disinfecting wipes and steel wool soap pads, which were out the last time I remembered to check. Sour cream and cheddar potato chips were also procured. Lunch was a healthy and filling pita pocket stuffed with plant-based patties and pepperjack cheese. Sometimes, reheating leftovers feels like just one thing too much to do, so the chips became dinner.

Winston was cute and perky and energetic today. He requested my attention this afternoon by coming over to the desk chair where I sat and pawing my ankle. Twice, he let me gather him up into my lap, although it didn’t last long either time. In the two weeks since Moose left us, Winnie has been sleeping a lot. Maybe he always did and I just never noticed because I was preoccupied with Moose. Maybe he’s sad too, or he’s mirroring my energy and emotions. Moose did that when I broke my leg and he dialed his energy level down from perky and peppy to chill. He even started limping on his left side and I couldn’t tell if he was empathizing or mocking me.  

“Remoted” – Day 524 (Sunday)

On Saturday, preparations were made for the arrival of Henri, the unwanted guest, still to be labeled as a tropical storm or a hurricane. The deck chairs were removed from the deck to the enclosed front porch. Twice since the opening was cut in the deck rail to provide access to the back yard, the chairs were driven across the deck by non-hurricane winds and tossed into the back yard. The flower pots and plant stands on the deck were also brought inside. Last year, my favorite terra cotta pot blew off the deck rail and smashed on the ground in non-hurricane wind. 

What was not done in advance of the weather was mowing the lawn. I looked at it and recognized it was already a few days past mowing. I felt the humidity on my skin. I assessed my energy level. I went back inside and made dinner, thinking I’d wait until the sun had moved lower, “maybe around 7:00.” Ha! No mowing happened. There will be a price to pay with extra effort when the lawn finally dries out again. Every choice bears a consequence, for better or worse.

Sunday morning began quiet and cloudy. Visits to stores had been avoided on Friday and Saturday, but the last trash bag in the house was in the kitchen can and filling for trash pickup on Monday. A trip was necessary to restock. A list was drafted -- trash bags, coffee, and cinnamon, my kitchen trick to make even crappy coffee taste better.

Sunday veggies, rice,
and cheese.

As I stepped outside at 9:00, the first big, heavy drops of rain began to land on the driveway with a splat. It appeared that Henri was knocking on the door. Thanks to the gutter cleaning of last month, there waterfall over the front door is now gone. The Family Dollar parking lot was blissfully empty with just two cars parked, likely because the CBD retailer across the street wasn’t open yet. The shopping was quick. I don’t even think Winston even knew I was gone when I came back in a half hour later.

The cool, rainy weather made for pleasant baking conditions. Today’s veggie special from the family farm bonanza was baked zucchini, squash, rice, and cheese. So good. 

As for Henri – there was moderate steady rain all day, but nothing horrible. witht he exception of possible thunder in the morning, it was all quiet all day on The BungaLowell front. The version of Henri that made landfall headed west – northwest and bothered another section of the state. The basement remained dry and the usual driveway puddle wasn’t even as large as the July rain.

“Remoted” – Day 523 (Saturday)

Winston making himself
at home at Mom's.

The weather was nice today – a real calm before the approaching Hurricane Henri weather situation. Winston and I headed out to Fitchburg to pick up his supplies from the vet – prescription food that allegedly helps with glucose and weight maintenance and insulin supplies. Cha-ching! 

After the blissfully brief stop at the vet it was a quick ride to Mom’s house. Winston made himself at home at Mom's by ignoring his bed and instead, molesting a handmade rug to reconfigure it into a lumpy mess and then sprawling on it to veg out for a while. That's a talent, making oneself so completely comfortable when visiting. Maybe it was his form of payback for being made to wear the going visiting diaper pants, even though I was the one who put the pants on him.

Fresh produce fast food.

We had a lunch of fried haddock sandwiches and fries from Kay’s Dairy Bar, and spent a relaxing afternoon in the backyard screen house admiring the gentle puffy clouds and nice breezes. I was gifted some vegetables from Mom and StepDad which they got from family in Maine. They had enough squash and zucchini to feed an army, plus potatoes and green beans and now I have some of it. There is no need for Misfits Market when the local and family farms and gardens are bursting with produce.

Supper was a family farm to table mix of squash, zucchini, onion, and green beans sauteed in butter and olive oil, dressed with a dash of balsamic vinegar and Italian seasoning, and finished with feta cheese, grated pepperjack cheese, and kalamata olives. 

I love my 10" skillet that lets me throw down food in under 30 minutes. The pan is a bit beat up, but despite checking in every store visited for the past year and every online cooking supply site I know of, I can't find another pan like it. The absence of the perfect substitute is a major impediment to the replacement project.

There was supposed to be leftovers, but the first bowl, as Ex-husband #2 would say, “tasted like more.” More was had, and that was the end of the leftovers. So much for advance meal planning.

“Remoted” – Day 522 (Friday)

The Thursday tornado warnings have been replaced with hurricane and severe storm alerts for the weekend. Yay! There is great potential for a wet and wild weekend and not in the fun way. Thanks, Henri, you are a real pip. Time will need to be invested in storm preparedness, just in case. According to the last warning heard, there was 36 hours to prepare.

The mysterious basement
cigarette butt.

Checking the basement during the rain on Thursday had been avoided because I just couldn’t take on one more thing. This morning, a visit was paid to the underside of the house, and there were a couple small puddles. While pushing the water with a broom over to the sump pump, eight screws and a washer were collected from the floor, souvenirs of the water tank installation. I don’t even want to think about the potential issues if those had ended up in the pump hole, and I can't help wondering how many are already in there.

There was also the bonus discovery of a stomped out cigarette butt in the middle of the basement floor, which is most definitely not from me, was not there on Monday when discovering the tank leak, and was not there on Tuesday when the plumbing team arrived. 

Based on my extensive reading of Nancy Drew as a kid, my detective skills are pretty keen, even if it took a lifetime to understand what a "late model sedan" is, which seemed to be a popular vehicle in the books. 

There are a couple conclusions manufactured from the evidence available. One is that someone on the plumbing crew was smoking in the basement and left it behind. Another is that it came in on one of their shoes, courtesy of the dude in the black pickup truck who flings his butts out the window every day when picking up the guy next door. A third option is a ghost. There was the two-week stretch last fall when I smelled cigarette smoke, and with no smokers visiting, the logical conclusion is that it must have been a ghost, and the recent evidence indicates the butt smoking ghost is back. The final potential option is that, in some Disney version of things, the mice who have recently taken up residence have also taken up smoking. It sounds about as logical as anything else going on these days.

On the fun side of things, my brother-in-law’s band played at the stage at Patriot Place at Gillette Stadium in Foxboro. The weather held out so the gig wasn't cancelled like many other bands scheduled there earlier this summer. After choosing a carpool meeting spot strategically located between our homes and just off Route 495, my sister, two nieces and I travelled together to the event.

Scissor pizza and a chicken sandwich.

As for Patriot Place …. That place is pretty nice. There is an outdoor shopping mall area with restaurants with outdoor seating and an open air stage in the courtyard between the businesses. We supped at Citizen Crust where the rectangular "Roman pizza" is served with scissors for self-service cutting of custom chunks. My sister learned about the place on Phantom Gourmet and it was as good as hyped. And I finally made it to the home of the New England Patriots. The next logical step in the progression would be attending a game when the team is present on site.

“Remoted” – Day 521 (Thursday)

Yay! Rain AND tornado warnings!

The weather threw a monkey wrench into plans for the day. The rain and the three tornado alerts that blasted between 10:45 this morning and 1:00 this afternoon not only bumped Netflix off the airwaves each time, they also derailed lunch plans with a friend from out of town. Some highway hydroplaning early in on the one-hour trip from Worcester county to Middlesex county, today's spots for tornado potential, led to a parking lot phone call and a mutual decision to postpone our lunch plans. 

The afternoon turned into a leftover pizza lunch and a puzzle marathon that spanned eight solid hours and resulted in an incomplete puzzle, a sore neck, and a sore lower back. The puzzle was assumed to be easy at 500 pieces, but it is crazy hard. Every piece seems to fit in multiple places, especially on the edges. And physically, it's been rough. It may be time to write to the chair making folks and request an ergonomic puzzle chair.

At 5:00, while taking a quick break from the torturous puzzle and preparing Winston’s supper, there was time to reflect on what has been a disappointing vacation week. The few things that were planned were derailed, and everything else has been a wash out, even when it wasn't raining. 

Crazy hard puzzle.

There had been a beach trip planned for early in the week that was bumped when the beach buddy had a change in plans that resulted in being out of town for the week instead. The water tank issue stepped in to suck the air out of two days when Monday was spent looking for a plumber, then Tuesday occupied with waiting for the plumber that was four hours late. The laptop has begun not recognizing it's plugged into the charger, leading to several days of aggravation and acrobatics to find the sweet spot when it will charge for a few minutes. 

Today, there was a check of the extended warranty coverage and a claim filed. A box is now on the way so I can send the problem unit in for service. Then there  was the weather wrinkle, and then the extra icing on the day was the 5:00 realization that it is already Thursday, not Wednesday like I thought it was for most of the day. 

This week needs a do-over. Correction – this entire month needs a do-over. The never ending stream of twirling and twisty crazy can stop any time now.

“Remoted” – Day 520 (Wednesday)

Floral.

The annual staycation inertia study resumed today with the kickoff festivity of oversleeping by a solid ninety minutes. In the day's activity column, a shower was taken, weeds were pulled while Winston was outside, and the remote was used to adjust TV volume. A floral arrangement on the dining room table was admired from the living room.

The day lacked the excitement that unfolded in the street yesterday, and the majority of the day was spent sitting on the couch, actively avoiding spending money after the major chunk of money required yesterday for the new water tank was put onto the credit card. Unfortunately, the payment on that same credit card that was due yesterday was forgotten and not paid by yesterday’s due date. I felt a little sick when I remembered it this morning, which was about eight hours too late to be helpful. Reflecting on it, I remembered setting up all the bills for the month in online bill pay and skipping the credit card, waiting until closer to the due date to see how much extra I could pay off this month. That plan bit me in the butt in spectacular fashion. 

Entertainments considered throughout the day and not undertaken due to laziness included starting a jigsaw puzzle, doing a crossword puzzle, and reading a book. Entertainments rejected due to potential spending were shopping for new curtains for the living room, an idea that sprouted a couple days ago and won’t go away. Small-scale household tasks considered and neglected included scraping the exterior boards under the doorways in preparation for painting, cleaning out the three junk drawers, and cleaning out the closet. But who’s keeping track? Oh, right, the never-ending list of house tasks.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will be celebrated in proper vacation day style.  Or Friday. For sure.

“Remoted” – Day 519 (Tuesday)

At 7:00 this morning, my Big Brothers Big Sisters donation bag was set on the deck, per donation pickup instructions, and all was quiet on the dead-end asphalt front. A plumbing crew was due around 10:00, scheduled yesterday after discovering the leak in the tank and the puddle on the floor. At 8:15, earlier than expected, a plumbing truck arrived with a different name on it and there was a moment of panic and confusion over which company I had called, but the truck was destined for the three-family house next door.

Knowing there was a crew coming, I knew I couldn’t leave for very long, but there was time for a quick trip to the hardware store nearby, or Family Dollar. While thinking about what errands could be done, I paced a lot, because sometimes that is what I do, and looked out the windows.

That’s when I noticed a police cruiser parked on one side of the street and a white van with blue government plates on the other side, a couple houses away. I was just last Saturday afternoon when there was a firetruck, ambulance, and two police cars on the street for the house across from mine, in response to guy sitting on the front steps, bleeding from the head. For a dead-end street, it sure can be exciting.

The cruiser was moved into the street at an angle, sealing off access, which seemed weird and made my decision making about leaving a bit easier. After a while, a doe appeared from the side where the van was parked (which was later seen to be marked as Animal Control).

The doe heads out of the hood.

The doe crossed the street into another yard, guided by the placement of the police cruiser which prevented it from bolting up the street towards the busy crossroad. It emerged into the street again, and headed past my house and towards the wooded growth along Beaver Brook. The poor thing looked like she had a bloody butt. 

A neighbor closer to the action said the doe had jumped a fence and then become trapped in an enclosed yard. After being guided by the vehicle placement and the Animal Control officer to the end of the street, she was left alone to wander the wooded trail which is blocked by a fence to the left, leads to city roads and the bridge construction to the right, and drops off into the brook the whole length. For a while, she stood in one spot, her head peeking over the privacy fence of the home across the street. I wondered how long it might be before the scenario played out again a couple streets over.

Once the official vehicles were gone, the rest of the neighbor’s plumbing crew invaded the street. A car arrived and parked in front of my house, followed by a bucket lift truck which parked across my driveway, sealing my car in the driveway. Luckily, I wasn't planning to leave, thinking I’d miss my own plumbing crew.

Plumbing job on high.

The morning ticked by. Next door, the bucket truck was moved into the back yard to load and unload materials through an upper floor window. More small household items were rounded up and added to the donations for pickup. Weeds were pulled in the back yard. At 11:15, there was a call from my plumbing company that the technician was running late and there was no estimate for timing to my house. Oddly, the urge to leave the house was growing. Odd, because I often go days without leaving, but as soon as I feel like I can’t do something, I suddenly want to do it. 

I waited. And waited. I went upstairs and dumped out the contents of my sock drawer onto the bed and rearranged it. I waited some more. I started watching a movie. At 1:10, a flower delivery arrived. As the florist was attempting to leave the driveway, the Big Brothers Big Sisters truck arrived to take the bag of clothes and box of housewares. It was like a mini Grand Central Station, but still no plumber.

At 1:30 there was a text message that the technician was on the way, and finally, around 2:00, four hours beyond the initial appointment window, the plumbing truck for my house arrived. The plumber in charge seemed surprised by the other company’s truck until I explained it was for a job next door. He looked at the leaking water tank and declared it needed replacing, which I already concluded from conversations and Google searches yesterday.

The plumber said he could do the replacement today, but needed to go to the warehouse to get a tank, which would take about 40 minutes round trip. It was around 4:30 and an entire wasted vacation day when the job was done.  At least I logged some steps with all the pacing and the sock drawer is organized by type of socks – thick socks, trouser socks, low socks for sneakers, low thin socks for dress shoes. 

The water tank is installed, and there is a new credit card balance equal to the cost of my last proper vacation back in 2017, which was a weeklong stay at an all-inclusive resort in Jamaica. Now, the budget is blown, the day was wasted and I wish I’d waited until next week and a work day when I would have been sitting at the desk all day anyway and being housebound wouldn’t have mattered. But it’s done, and hopefully no thought will need to be given to the water heater for another 10 years, so that will be nice.

“Remoted” – Day 518 (Monday)

Vacation Monday began with leisurely contemplation of house projects. There was a studying of the bathroom walls and a review of previously collected paint chips for color ideas to replace the robin's egg blue. For several years, there has been a fantasy of a backsplash treatment in the kitchen. There was a look at the exterior boards beneath the deck sliders, front door, and back door which are in need of painting. In all cases, the current board was painted in a tannish color close to the boring tan vinyl siding, and in all cases, said paint is peeling and looks shabby. Not like the once trendy shabby chic décor either, more like shabby and neglected.

Oh goody, the water tank is leaking.

A trip was made to the basement to scan the metal shelving unit filled with multiple cans of paint and stain left behind by the previous occupant. There are at least a dozen cans down there, and I was hoping to find one that was the color of the boards. While there, I noticed a puddle on the basement floor near the water heater. Water in the basement during a rain isn’t unheard of, but this seemed out of place. 

I studied the situation like a scientist, meaning I was calm, as if ice water ran through my veins, a condition of which I have been accused, so maybe it really does. I registered no emotions whatsoever. Living alone has taught me many things. One of the most helpful is that there is no point to freaking out when discovering unpleasant things or when stuff goes sideways. There is no audience, it scares the dog and it wastes my energy. The scientific observation revealed there is water dripping from the bottom of the tank. There was a conversation with a plumber who said if it’s leaking it’s likely it needs to be replaced. Oh goody.

In the latest nine day tally of the house versus me, it’s been one toilet repair, one garbage disposal replacement plus a follow-up tweak to allow the dishwasher to drain with said new disposal, six rooms with ultrasonic rodent repellant units installed, and now, a leaking water tank. Until that tank is addressed, all other projects are on hold.

I would roll my eyes and ask “what next,” but trust me, I do not want to know. Plus, it would feel like I was issuing a dare to fate, and I really don’t need to be pushing my luck. Just like Vegas, it seems like the house is the winner.

On the success side of the scorecard, I made it to the bank to deposit two checks and got the band on my bank five year anniversary gift watch adjusted so I can finally wear the thing. Thank goodness for the small victories that tug me back from the cliff of insanity.

“Remoted” – Day 517 (Sunday)

The annual family cookout was today. For two months I had been looking forward to attending, but in recent days, I wasn’t feeling like being with a big group, even if it was family. On Friday, I told my aunt hosting the cookout that I probably wouldn't be there, but I’d play it by ear.

After a night of being awakened multiple times by knucklehead neighbors talking loudly in the street, running cars with radios blasting, slamming car doors, and dropping a storage tub of breakables, Winston and I slept late this morning. We're usually up by 6:30, but this morning it was 9:00 when we finally got up. I felt pretty good and decided to go to the cookout, and to bake mini honey corn muffins to bring. That seemed simple enough.

The half-baked, and
the few edible.

The little paper muffin cups were lined up in a cake pan, filled to the recommended height (2/3 full) with the batter, and set to bake for the stated 11 to 13 minutes. When the time was done, they were cooled, and the centers collapsed on most of them. While moving them onto a foil tray I wouldn’t need to take home, it became apparent that most of the muffins had not fully baked. So gross. 

I think it’s because the baking pan used was not individual muffin cups, so there was no heat moving around each little muffin. The paper cups were crowded into the cake pan and the bake time should have been the longer time for a loaf. Of 24 muffins, about seven were baked enough to eat, and this would not work. Lesson learned. Most of the mini still batter muffins were tossed ino the trash.

Early in the drive, practically just out of my street, Earth, Wind, and Fire’s “Serpentine Fire” came on the radio. The sunroof was open and the radio turned up super loud for maximum enjoyment. A stop was made at Market Basket on the way down Route 113 and honey BBQ chicken tenders were procured for the cookout in lieu of the inedible honey corn mini muffins.

I crossed the big green bridge in Tyngsboro that takes traffic over the Merrimack River. Fun fact I just learned – the Tyngsboro Bridge is the second oldest steel rib through arch bridge in the state, and with a span of 547 feet, is the longest span of any steel rib through arch bridge in Massachusetts. On the other side of the bridge is a church, and like I always do, I read the message on the sign out front. Today it said, “Who did you forgive?” which made me tear up and choke up. When I could speak again, I said out loud to my brother and the Universe, “John, I forgive you.”

The weather as beautiful – sunny and not as hot as the past couple days. At my aunt’s house, people sat in the shade provided by four or five canopies set up in the yard. An inflatable pool was set up for the little ones, and corn hole boards entertained all ages and athletic abilities. It was great to relax in a big yard and catch up with cousins, some of whom I hadn’t seen for many years. When I left my house, I thought I would be at the cookout for a couple hours at most, but vacation time ruled, and it was five hours before I left. In a first, I took exactly zero photos at the cookout, which I will probably regret.

Back at home, two hours past Winston’s usual dinner time, I could hear him barking from the driveway through the open windows. It’s possibly the first time he’s been all alone for that many hours, and I hope he didn’t bark all day. He greeted me with leaps and licks, so at least he wasn’t mad. Or maybe he was buttering me up, knowing who controls the food distribution chain in our little operation.

"Remoted" Day 516 (Saturday) Remembering John Simonds

John R. Simonds
1961-2021

My brother, John R Simonds of Dennis, MA, formerly of Fitchburg, MA, died at home unexpectedly on August 5, 2021. He was born July 12, 1961. 

John was the guy you wanted at your gatherings. He was quick witted and could tell a great story or reel off a string of jokes and have you laughing until it hurt. In defense of his wardrobe that was heavy on jeans, khakis, and tee shirts, he would point to the many photos in the family album of him as a toddler wearing a bow tie and suspenders and say, “THAT is why I hate dressing up.”  

John always liked cars, starting with his Matchbox and Hot Wheels cars as a kid. One of his early non-miniature, life-size, actual drivable cars was a blue Camaro. Later vehicles included a Trans Am, a Jeep, a couple Corvettes, vintage Mustang, and various motorcycles. He liked cool, bad-ass vehicles and soon had big trucks, too. The coolest, most pristine vehicle at a gathering was usually his. His vehicles took him everywhere he wanted to go – Texas, New York City, all around New England, onto the beach, and a couple times, places he wasn’t planning on such as the emergency room (looking at you, Trans Am and red ’67 Corvette).

His teenage adventurous streak inspired him to skateboard on the hilly streets of Fitchburg and occasionally hop a freight train to Gardner to skateboard there. Summers during junior high and high school were spent in Texas working with Grandpa (Baba Gooie) Ray “Yank” Kask at his company where he learned about the process of scraping, aligning, and rebuilding machinery, and the business importance of addressing “Baba Gooie” as “Ray” during work hours. After high school, he worked at Foster Grant in the boiler room as a fireman.

In the mid-1980s, John washed ashore on Cape Cod and fell in love with the landscape, the weather, and the surf casting and never looked back. It wasn’t long before he was cracking wise about the tourists like a native-born resident. For many years, his home was the site of frequent weekend gatherings of family and friends. As a host, he was always ready to play tour guide with a list of fun options like drives to Provincetown, trips to interesting shops, sightseeing, fishing, or visiting a dune buggy beach to lay on a blanket and watch the annual summer Perseid meteor shower.

"THAT is why I don't dress up"
~ John

His career spanned over 30 years working for the Town of Yarmouth in various departments. He mowed fields and raked beaches with the Parks Department and later, crawled under people’s houses to check the water. He moved to the Water Department as a serviceman and eventually became supervisor. He often covered holiday shifts so his colleagues with children could have the days with their families, and took any extra shift that presented itself. 

John is survived by his wife Lisa (Barron) Simonds to whom he was married for 24 years and Sadie the wonder dog; his mother, Sharon Kask and her partner Butch Rivers; his father David Simonds and his wife Denise (Cormier) and their daughters Brittany and Kimberley; sister Tammy Simonds Dohner; sister Sherri Simonds Cormier and her husband Steve and their three daughters Shannon, Sheridan, and Shayla. 

He was a member of the Fitchburg High School class of 1979, SEIU Local 888 Service Employee International Union Unit B, and the Yankee Beemers Motorcycle Club.

Services for John will be held privately. To leave an online condolence, please visit www.doanebealamesdennis.com.

“Remoted” – Day 515 (Friday the 13th)

Birthday flowers and coffee!

Friday the 13th, with notable exceptions, is usually one of my favorite dates, and while some people think it is unlucky, I often have a great day on these days. Today was destined to be a great day purely by virtue of it being the first day of  vacation. Oh, and also my birthday. As a youngling, I was irritated to have been born on a Saturday and not a Friday. I thought it would make me more interesting to have been born on Friday the 13th.  

My Sweet 16 was on a Friday the 13th and was one of those notable exceptions to my great day track record. The plan for that party was a “paint The Rock” pool party with friends at my house. “The Rock” is the granite face of a prominent hill in Fitchburg and was the site of granite quarrying operations in the city’s early days. The senior class paints their graduating year on the rock, then at the end of the school year, the incoming seniors would paint it on “junior skip day” after graduation. We weren't seniors, so this would have been a daring paint raid of sorts. The day of my Sweet 16, however, Mother Nature had other ideas and delivered rain, thunder, and lightning. No Rock painting, no pool party, just a bunch of teenaged girls in our dining room and Dad spinning records for us. At least there was a professional DJ, so there was that.

This year, the Friday the 13th birthday began with a laptop that chose today for the battery to stop charging. It was down to 14% before I realized that even though it was plugged in, it was draining power like water through a sieve. Even though the unit is not even 18 months old, and was bought as the backup to the work laptop with the cracked screen corner, it may already be time to start exploring options. 

Fancy, delicious truffles!

This year's fabulous gift to myself was a half dozen ultrasonic rodent repellant devices with nightlights and another two with extra outlets. This is the official declaration of war against the rodents that have taken up unauthorized residence at the The BungaLowell. The little gray rodents are so comfortable  they don’t even wait for darkness and make bold, daylight, midafternoon appearances. The devices arrived today, and now every room has one. The rodent eviction is underway. 

Ariel mermaid cookie!

The celebration didn't stop at the ultrasonic plug-ins. This latest trip around the sun included a delivery of beautiful flowers and coffee right before I left for lunch with Mom, my sister, and a niece. Later in the day, there was a home cooked dinner with three friends. The day included cake (twice!), Priscilla Chocolate ganache truffles, and even an Ariel mermaid cookie. Winston got to spend time with his little girldog CoCo who he hasn't seen in a while. Of course, both dogs are blind, so they didn't exactly "see" each other, but they got to sniff each other and be in the same room. When we got home, the laptop was functioning correctly again. Overall, it was a pretty perfect day.

“Remoted” – Day 514 (Thursday)

About three weeks ago, a vet appointment was scheduled for Moose on August 13. It seemed like a good idea to have him checked out and the timing worked with the magical convergence of a scheduled vacation day and an open appointment. His last visit was in June when Dr. Doom, who opens with the worst case scenario when discussing a checkup, said “Moose is in a bad way.” I followed up via email with Dr. B, Moose’s vet since 2013 in the same office, and comfort and pain control would be the path moving forward, but there had been no specific follow-up plan drafted. On August 4, I tried to get an earlier appointment, but vacation schedules, staffing shortages, and reduced hours at the vet (no longer open every Saturday) meant nothing was available.

Since our emotional and final visit to the emergency vet in Westford on Saturday, August 7, I’ve dreaded calling our regular vet to either cancel the appointment or change it to Winston. The idea of it was paralyzing, even knowing that cancelling it would free the spot for another pet, which was exactly the situation hoped for when I called about an earlier appointment for Moose. Saying the words “Moose is no longer with us” out loud feels nearly as brutal as saying about my brother, “John is no longer with us.”

It hurts my heart knowing I’ll never hear my brother’s laugh again, or share our growing up antics. I'll never again hear his funny takes on small-town life at the Cape, or his rants about technology and tourists that made him sound like he was 100 years old instead of from my generation.

It hurts my heart knowing I’ll never again be able to stroke Moose’s velvety ears or the coarse coat on his back that let me be able to know him from Winston’s silky coat in the dark with a single touch.

He takes to his bed.

Today, I finally called the vet to ask about bringing Winston for the appointment slot for a check on his diabetes. It turned out the appointment was already cancelled and rebooked. The emergency vet had contacted my vet, who then cancelled all Moose’s appointments, which also cancels the vaccine and appointment reminders which could be painful to receive. It makes sense. I teared up seeing the subject line of an email from Chewy.com today that said, “There’s no pet like Moose and Winston.” I know, Chewy, I know. <sniff, sniff>. My eyes filled and my hand shook when I tried to update the account and edit out Moose and I chickened out, so there will be more painful subject lines coming for a while.

Lately, Winston either wanders the house, or takes to his bed like a Victorian book character, curls up, and sleeps. I feel ya, little guy. If not for the blessings of work and taking care of Winnie to focus on, I'd be doing the exact same thing. 

“Remoted” – Day 513 (Wednesday)

Find my ass money!

A Valpack coupon mailer arrived recently. I always look at the coupons, which is how I found the company that cleaned the gutters a couple weeks ago. One of the coupons in the new pack is for the unclaimed property division and the website “findmassmoney.com.” For days, every time I saw the coupon on the counter, I read it as “find my ass money” and chuckled. It’s not completely wrong. It is the entire point of visiting the site, so maybe I’ll suggest they change it. I finally visited the site, and sadly, neither my ass nor my wallet found money. 

Recent texts I sent to my sister said “Call me when you can. Not urgent, just catch up.” Each time, my brain says “just ketchup” like I’m placing a food order. A couple times the ketchup thought led me to think about a time many moons ago when my sister and I were young. We were in the kitchen baking or cooking or some other domestic entertainment and I called her “Betty Quaker” in a joining of Betty Crocker and Quaker Oats. After that, we declared the Quaker Oats guy and Betty Crocker married, which we thought was hysterical. For a long time we called each other Betty Quaker while in the kitchen.

Sometimes the dumbest stuff is amusing. Thank goodness.

“Remoted” – Day 512 (Tuesday)

This morning and yesterday morning featured the highly unusual events of remembering dreams after getting up. This morning’s dream was in a nebulous, slightly dark location that morphed between hotel, restaurant, boardwalk, and mini-mall. There was a search for food, sitting at a table with Mom and other people who seemed vaguely familiar, then my very long search for a trash can to dispose of our paper serving utensils during which I got lost and couldn’t find my group again. Elevators didn’t work, locales kept changing, it was approaching time to check out and I couldn’t find my room to pack and it was frustrating. It felt similar to a lot of waking life. Then I was saved by the alarm to wake up.

Yesterday’s dream involved running down shadowy alleys and searching for something while also hiding from some ever present, unseen creepy force. Again, saved by the alarm. Maybe my not remembering dreams is a psychological safety mechanism. Thank goodness work has been more pleasant than the slightly unsettling dreams and elements of real life which are still in flux. 

After work there was the raking of the grass clumps left by Sunday’s mow, which I intended to deal with on Monday after they’d had a chance to dry. It didn’t happen. The raking part, that is. The grass clumps dried nicely. Then it rained last night and made them wet again. Oops. 

Tonight, the clumps were dry on top and wet underneath, much like the grass when it was cut. The wet clumps were one reason it wasn’t raked on Monday, which would make the barrel heavier. The other reason was, well, just because. The consequence of delaying, was, of course, doing it tonight. 

Finnish lessons hit day 400 in the consecutive streak. Maybe by day 500 of lessons I'll find someone I can actually speak it with. Until then, it's talking to Winston and myself. 

Winston lounging.

Winston was mopey and quiet and slept on the couch a lot. He’s probably thinking about Moose at the heavenly doggy all day buffet with the endless poop pop dessert bar while he’s here on a special diabetes diet with scientifically formulated dry brown kibble bits, the occasional biscuit, and random veggie chunks and blueberries. Either that, or he’s in training for our vacation activity level. Two more workdays and then it’s vacay. Tick tock, off the clock. 

“Remoted” – Day 511 (Monday)

Today may have been the best Monday workday in ages. There was actually a long stretch of sleep during the overnight hours. Sleep is wonderful. The morning was greeted with eagerness for something that required deadlines, processes, and focus to facilitate not feeling things. Monday delivered with stretches of time where no feelings were felt, making it a lot like regular normal life before last Thursday. The mission was a success.

Checking the fix.

Concurrent with the workday was the arrival of the cavalry (aka StepDad Mr. Fixit) with Mom and a toolbox. He assessed the situation, made a diagnosis, and we made a quick trip to the local friendly neighborhood Ace Hardware Store where I even had a birthday month $10 coupon. Before lunchtime rolled around, there was a brand new, fully operational, non-leaking disposal installed, and Mom and Mr. Fixit were on to their next mission. 

After work there was a chiropractor visit followed by a Family Dollar stop for dog biscuits which expanded into a leisurely stroll through the store collecting sugar wafers, paper towels, and a set of plastic measuring spoons. It turned out there are already four rolls of paper towels in the bathroom closet and now I feel like it’s creeping towards hoarding territory. This is what happened after last week’s grocery store stop when the mayo purchase was discovered to not be needed.

The current entertainment obsession is a binge cycle of Cougar Town, which I ignored for all six seasons when it was a show on some regular network. There were actually a couple much needed laugh out loud moments.

Overall, it was a decent day. A variety of things that were needed were delivered, including a functional kitchen sink.