“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 594 (Sunday)

Costume options for the Halloween morning dance class were considered while lying in bed last night trying to get to sleep. All the usual pre-sleep rituals had been performed. The face was washed and teeth were brushed. Winston was put outside for his final potty and given a tiny cookie treat. Another four bits of broken treats were gathered and we headed upstairs. Pajamas were donned and Winston and I did the nightly “sit, come, sit, paw” drill with cookie rewards.

1950s throwback.

Once in bed, the nightly Duolingo Finnish lessons were completed. Then the tossing and turning commenced because unfortunately, tired doesn't mean sleepy. That’s when the costume planning kicked in, which seemed like the most productive way to handle the frustration of  not sleeping. Costume criteria included being able to move in the getup, as dance class requires actual movement. It should also be not too costumey and/or easy to change out. The ride after class sometimes includes stops at a farm stand or grocery store. 

The last time a costume was planned was back in 2019, when two costumes were in development for events. One was for a country western themed work event and the other was a steampunk themed museum fundraiser. Clothing items and accessories had been rounded up for each, and then the pandemic forced the cancellation of both events.

The country western bolo tie with silver slider has sat on a dresser since March 2020, collecting dust and serving as a reminder of the life that once was. Elsewhere, there was a tan suede skirt. A bandanna. A chambray shirt. Western boots and old-timey boots. A vest. Coordinated belts and small bags for essentials like phone and keys. Other details I can’t even remember.

Neither of these costumes was appealing for dance class. I just wasn’t feeling it. An easy costume might have been Northwest lumber worker, thanks to the excessive volume of plaid flannel on the closet, but I wasn't feeling that, either. Anyone looking in my closet might assume I work in the logging industry or that I am trapped in 90s Seattle grunge.

There are about a dozen wigs, but those are a total pain to put on and then they always slide around. The big storage tub of costume skirts, tops, and footwear is buried under a bunch of other junk.

This morning a couple outfits were tried and rejected. The final winner felt like a cop-out. It was Mummu’s striped skirt she wore to work at the yarn factory in the 50s and 60s with a sweater and 50s ponytail with a scarf. Fun fact -- I wore the same skirt for Trick or Treat when I was ten, with the waistband pinned smaller to fit. Now it fits perfectly. The look was very sock-hop-esque. 

Jeans were brought to class for a quick change before heading home with a stop at Market Basket for broccoli and mushrooms for quiche. Once in the store, the smell of roasted chicken either made me hungry or made me realize I was already hungry. Then the mind got busy. “Oh, I can make American Chop Suey if I get some green peppers. This package of random cheese ends will be great for macaroni and cheese. These Italian cookies on the discount bakery rack look yummy.”

Before long, the carriage held a roasted chicken, the broccoli and mushrooms that prompted the visit, a frozen pizza, and many, many other things that boosted the total to an even $47. Considering I haven’t done a full-blown grocery shop in several weeks, it wasn’t that bad.

Arriving home hungry led to the need for food. American Chop Suey was made, consumed, and the remainder packaged in freezer containers for future lunches. The roasted chicken was dismembered. The mess was cleaned up and the kitchen floor was swept and washed. The deck chairs were taken to the shed for the winter and the shovels were brought to the enclosed front porch in a pre-emptive strike against winter. Triumph was celebrated with Italian cookies.

The only reasonable explanation for the sudden spurt of organized and mature activity is that the 50s sock hop outfit sent me to the 1950s and slid me into housewife mode. Maybe I should wear it every weekend and time travel to housewife mode. Or at least anytime there are things to get done.