“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 655 (Friday) New Year's Eve

Mr. Sandman?

A last-minute vacation day was scheduled for the 31^st, just one day in advance. While adding entries to my timesheet on Thursday, the vacation hours accrual was still pretty healthy, the to-do list was short with no deadlines looming, and it became a “Why the hell not?” situation. Of course, true to form, there was no plan in mind for anything fun when the time off was requested, but at least it wouldn't be dominated by a vet, dental, or medical appointment. 

As always, except for the one day a year when there is a medical appointment involving bloodwork, the day began with coffee. It was a leisurely experience, with a side of chocolate babka and a couple episodes of Doctor Who from BBC America’s ongoing marathon. The coffee provided the lubrication to get the mental gears turning. On the last day of a year that had some wretched moments, it suddenly felt important to do something more than nothing.  

The problem was the same one as always when looking at free time. There are too many options. Drive to the beach? Walk in the woods? Visit thrift or antique shops? Tackle the perpetual junk room? Include Winston in the activity? Having more than one or two options nearly always induces paralysis.

A neutral-toned day.

It had been an idea all year to get to the beach, and yet, I hadn’t been since October 2020. A visit to the beach won out and near the end of the pot of coffee, a plan began to take shape. Winston was left at home because the times he has been to the beach he tried to run away, and his company would force the exclusion of other side excursions. On the list of 2021 goals, “Get ass to the beach” can now be crossed off. More than likely, the mostly intact list will have 2021 scratched out and replaced with 2022.

Random snow pile.

There was a ride along Route 1A through Salisbury and Seabrook where the houses are stacked three deep and close enough together that the only clues the ocean is nearby are the occasional numbered yellow signs for “Beach Access” and a narrow footpath. They looked less impressive than I remembered. In Hampton, things loosen up on the ocean side of the route and it’s possible to see the expanse of ocean from the road. The only snow pile seen anywhere so far this season sat opposite Playland Arcade.

Hampton Beach had quite a few people walking on the sidewalk and on the beach. It was a neutral-toned day colored in tan sand and varying shades of gray for the water and sky. The boardwalk is boarded up for the season and several hours before the planned New Year's Eve fireworks, all was quiet on the ocean front. A freshly sculpted sand snowman stood watch near The Seashell Stage.

Shell wings were abundant.

The beach visit was brief. Time was enjoyed walking on the beach, which was littered with a bounty of blue shells spread open like wings. Walking on the beach is always nice, but it’s even nicer with someone to chat with. The rest room was visited, and thanks given that it was open. Then it was back on the road. 

Before leaving the house, an online check for thrift stores near Hampton yielded a Goodwill store not far from the beach. The shop was neatly arranged but the housewares department failed to deliver. The current thrifting list includes café curtains for the window over the kitchen sink and 8.5-inch soup bowls.  While in Goodwill, another customer was overheard telling her companion that “the prices are better at Savers,” which contradicts my experiences at Savers, but gave me the idea to check for one nearby.

In traffic filled Plaistow, the Savers store matched my experiences with the stores in Worcester and Nashua. The Savers chain seems to be undeservedly proud of its used merchandise, with prices that often match and sometimes exceed prices at Target and Kohls for brand new stuff. I wished I had asked the woman in Goodwill which Savers she visits.

Savers offered me no treasures inside, but next door was an Aldi, which caused my pulse to quicken. There was a trip through grocery Wonderland with many treasures found at prices worth taking out the wallet. I had imagined grabbing some fresh mushrooms and coffee creamer, but it turned into a three bags full situation, possibly exacerbated by it being 2:00 with hunger firmly set in. The weekend, which until the Aldi trip was 100% free of plans, now has a spinach, mushroom, and cheese quiche and lohikeitto (Finnish salmon stew) penciled in for a flavorful start to the New Year.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 654 (Thursday)

It was quiet, peaceful, and productive at work. Yesterday’s frustration was but a fading memory. I love it when a fresh day erases an icky one like it never happened. There was a skeleton crew on the fourth floor and nobody was stressed out. There was even time for a few minutes of much needed, relaxed conversation. 

By the end of the day, I was really hungry and uninterested in this week’s soup offering. The drive home was occupied with imagining the dinner delivery possibilities. It started with Chinese food, then morphed to seafood or pizza or a Beyond Burger with fries. There was a coupon from my favorite pizza place in my email, good for 15% off a $30 order, which shifted the focus solely on their menu. Plus, they deliver really fast. 

When hunger sets in, focus is difficult, even when the focus is on what to eat. The order started as a Beyond Burger basket. Food items were added, removed, and re-added. The beloved Cowboy Bites were nowhere to be found in the current menu, which led to a trip through the past orders to see when I last had them. (It was December 4.)

Supper is served.

The Fried Ravioli was tempting. Seafood plates, both baked and fried were considered.  Surf and Turf received brief attention, but nowhere in the description or the options was there a clue as to what the “Turf” part was. Pizza, chips, cannoli, and baklava all found their ways in and out of the order. Orders were cleared and restarted. After a solid 45 minutes of hunger-fogged menu searching, order building and clearing nonsense, an order was finally placed. Considering I had been thinking about supper for a solid hour before leaving work, it felt like it took forever to make a decision. 

The final order leaned towards a sensible one that will provide several additional meals. A large Greek pizza, a large cheese pizza, and a bag of chips were ordered. Baklava and cannoli were eliminated, partly due to recent excessive holiday pastry consumption. Chips made the cut to hit the discount threshold.

The delivery time was projected for 7:15 to 7:25, but thanks to proximity, it arrived at 6:45. By 6:50, the pizza party for one was underway and I was dining under the attentive and twitching nose of the Canine Overlord Winston.

Dinner was divine – a slab of plain chees pizza and a slab of Greek. The Greek pizza was a bit messy to eat, with large slices of tomato and whole spinach leaves to fight through. A Sam Adams Winter Lager accompanied it all. An hour after eating, cannoli was on the brain. Dammit.

Now supper is over except for the wrapping and freezing of the many leftover slices, destined for future lunches and suppers. There will be no need to buy pizza again for a couple weeks. Maybe longer.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 653 (Wednesday)

Downtown Lowell alley.

The workday saw more than the usual amount of frustration for a normal day, and exactly the usual amount of frustration for a dreaded monthly review task day. The review thing is so dreadful that three of us rotate the chore. I’m quite certain if one of us had to do it every month they would quit. Or maybe it’s just me. 

The process involves two different software programs and a cumbersome process to send files and case notes to a vendor according to a timeline that is derailed monthly by the vendor. 

If you receive a bank statement with a graphic on the top of the first page wishing you happy holidays or suggesting you sign up for e-statements, please know that it’s entirely possible that one or more people at your financial institution may have had to walk through hell in a gasoline pantsuit to make it happen. 

The issue at hand today was the January graphic. If you’ve looked at a calendar, you are no doubt aware that January is practically here. Its icy breath can be felt on the back of the neck. The file was sent to the vendor on December 7 in preparation for their loading and testing, and our proof review process. On the 14^th, an apology was received, noting that the first step on the other end hadn’t been requested yet, despite being there for a full week. On the 21^st, a status update was requested through the case management system with no response. On the 28^th, as panic began to set in, another status was requested. 

Today, with anxiety reaching a fever pitch, there was another check-in through the software system and an email with the “please pay attention to me” exclamation point for urgency. The email noted the absence of time left for changes or adjustments to the graphic if needed, which wouldn't be known until we see the proofs.

Finally, notice was received that proofs were ready for review and approval which requires accessing both quirky systems. There are 60 test accounts to review. Two review files were received. One file contained one sample for something not even on the checklist. The other file held 20 test accounts. I wrote back to say the proof files were missing 40 accounts, and no, the test files could not yet be approved.

It was so frustrating that a walk was needed to clear the head before a gasket was blown. The toy store was visited where it was discovered that paint by number sets still exist and now I want one. The shelves of model car kits reminded me of building them with my brother when we were kids and I had to leave before I got all teary-eyed in the store. 

Downtown Lowell mural.

A visit to the bookstore yielded a copy of the January book and a spot for the upcoming “Boozy Book Club” meeting in a few weeks at a local restaurant. A nearby mural was admired, (it has a rooster!) along with a painted fence in the alley next to the building with the mural. 

By the time I returned to my desk, I felt better, as in, no longer ready to punch a wall while screaming the name of the vendor partner. Soon after, the remaining documents for the monthly proofing process arrived and the task was completed. The best part is, it won’t be my problem for a couple months now. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 652 (Tuesday)

The after supper nap.

The traffic going to work was an easy ride, and it was good. The work day was tolerable, the office was quiet. The vet office called in the morning and a 5:00 appointment was scheduled for Winston to have the glucose monitor checked. 

I bolted from the office a little early, scooped up Winston, and we were off on another driving adventure. Luckily, the afternoon traffic was also not horrible. The plan was to get gas while in Fitchburg, where the prices are usually lower than Lowell.

There was a short wait, during which Winston sniffed nearly every square inch of the waiting room floor that he could reach while on the leash. He seemed unaware of a cat staring at him from a carrier for several minutes. A tech finally came to bring him to an exam room and the sensor was changed out. 

When the doctor came out to the waiting room where I sat, she had the first sensor in her hand. She said the sensor pin was bent, she’d never seen anything like it before, and had no idea how or when it happened. It’s a puzzle. I welcomed her to my world, where, if something can go wacky it will. She seemed to find comfort in this.

Back at home, I realized I had not gone to the gas station. I was hungry and had become fixated on what the supper options might be and forgot about getting gas. At least Winton's food is always easy. The clock showed that an hour had passed for the sensor to set, so I held my breath and scanned the sensor. Instead of an error message there was a digit. An actual number. This is real progress. After supper, Winston napped while I worked on the still incomplete puzzle. The jigsaw puzzle on the dining table, not the bent sensor mystery or the case of forgetting to get gas.

Now the task is to remember to scan the sensor every eight hours or so for the next two weeks to gather the info. Considering I forgot to get gas, the outlook is fuzzy on the success of the monitor readings.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 651 (Monday)

Winston models his hew shirt.

A Monday vacation day is usually the best kind of Monday. The alarm was given the day off and Winston and I slept until after 7:00 this morning, and only woke up because the recycling truck was outside emptying bins. The late sleep was at least partially due to the leisurely late afternoon nap and then staying up too late Sunday night.  

The sleeping late was quite possibly the success story of the day. Being a vacation day in my world meant it included a trip to my most frequent couples vacation destination. Yes indeed, Winston and I had a day trip to the vet.

The 12:45 appointment, unfortunately timed to dominate the entire day, was to have a glucose monitor installed to track Winston’s glucose for two weeks. The instructions given to me are to take a reading approximately every eight hours. The first reading could be done in about an hour when the sensor would be ready. Winston has a nice new tee shirt to wear over the monitor, and he looks mighty fine.

We took the 45-minute ride and got settled back at home around 2:00.  After a few minutes, the first reader was turned on to take the fist reading. Instead of a glucose number, it read “No active sensor.” It also suggested checking the application of the sensor, removing it, and applying a new one, and/or starting the sensor again. There is no additional sensor to apply so it was Plan B, the “start the sensor again” option, a command on the reader. A message said the sensor would be ready in about an hour.

Too bad the sensor
isn't "active."

One hour later, the sensor reading was tried, and failed and restarted. It was tried again in another hour. The vet was called, but unfortunately, there was nobody there who could help. This all fits the model. A colleague constantly remarks that I have the worst luck of anyone he knows. I used to accept that it was just things that happen in my life, but now, I'm starting to believe the crappy luck thing. 

The good news is, I can “come back first thing in the morning” to have the sensor checked. This is not helpful. The vet’s “first thing in the morning” coincides with my work start time. And yes, 45 minutes away. Once again, this human is regretting not changing to a vet closer to home. It is also time to re-evaluate the vacation day planning and entertainment. Maybe that should be New Year’s resolution number one. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 650 (Sunday)

Winston in his
bed at Mom's.

The Friday vacation day and staying at Mom’s over the holiday weekend resulted in the customary blurry confusion of “What day is this?” The calendar fuzziness feels like a continuation of the past 21-ish months. I don't think a wall calendar and day planner have been consulted as much as they have been over the past nearly two years.

The change of venue for a couple days required packing bags for both Winston and myself. Winton’s bag included several sweaters, pee wraps and diaper liners, bowls, food, treats, insulin, harness and leash. Mine included pajamas, slippers, clothes for a couple days, laptop and charger, phone charger, and slightly dressy booties which were 100% unnecessary. When the box of gifts and another of baked goods and the casserole dish of kielbasa for Christmas Eve were loaded into the back of the car, it looked a bit like we were running away forever. 

Winston adapts to changes of pace and venue well. His bed is always loaded into the back seat floor of the car, which helps him stay put while we’re driving and gives him his own safe place to retreat to at our destination. He eats and sleeps at the normal times and bumps into different walls and furniture without fussing.

Winston napping at home.

When we arrived back home around 1:30 on Sunday, Winston sniffed his way through the kitchen as if taking inventory while I schlepped bags and boxes into the house and began to unpack the kitchen stuff. Desserts were put into the refrigerator. The ham bone from Christmas dinner went into a pot and a soup was started.

After Winston’s inspection of the first floor, he hit the couch for a nap. It wasn’t long before I joined him on the couch to watch TV and then I was also napping. The nap felt like a great idea at 3:00 when I was suddenly tired, but at 9:00 it was a different story when I wasn’t tired at all and the laundry still needed to be done. Monday has potential to be kind of mixed up. If only I handled the change in routine as well as Winston.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 649 (Saturday – Christmas Day)

The ice rain came and encrusted the local environment. The ground featured crusted snow and the trees were glazed with a glistening coat. It was pretty on the trees and less inviting on the car which remained in the driveway all day, encased in ice. 

It was nice that there was no need to drive anywhere, as the phone showed "Ice for 120 minutes" most of the day. Of course, on the phone it shows it as diamonds. If there is anything that would get me to stay outside in precipitation it would be actual diamonds falling from the sky, but that is just the stuff and nonsense of fantasies and false promises from the phone people developing weather info programs. 

It was another mostly low-key day. There was food, of course. There were in person conversations and a couple calls from afar. 

One of the funniest stories of this season involved a couple gifts from Amazon sent by a relative to Mom but with the wrong house number. The lady down the street at the house number on the label came to deliver a box the week before Christmas but wasn’t pleased about it. As Mom told me the story over the phone a day or so later, there was a knock at the door. We laughed and said we hoped it wasn’t the cranky lady down the street before hanging up. Mom opened the door and it was indeed the lady from down the street, holding a second box which was comically huge and unwieldy. She was even crankier the second time and snarled that Mom should correct her shipping address. It wasn’t Mom’s mistake, though. Neighbor lady wasn't interested in details, but least she brought the boxes over.  

The traditional holiday overeating of baked goods and sweet treats continued. There will be a price to pay. Very soon. Just need to finish all the treats off first. So much cake and cookies and candy. 

The usual holiday movies ran in the living room including the annual viewing of A Christmas Story and a bit of It’s a Wonderful Life before the channel landed on the Harry Potter movies for most of the afternoon. There were Scrabble games underway, so the TV was more of a background thing for team kitchen, but team living room seemed to be watching.

The Most Handsome and
Exalted Overlord.

Winston, the Most Handsome and Exalted Overlord, sported his green sweater and looked as dapper as ever. He specializes in napping these days, but is not shy about demanding a cuddle or a head rub when he’s ready for one. He seems more like a cat than ever in that regard.  

And just like that, Christmas is all over. Next up is the sorely needed plan to shed the holiday weight gain. It magically appears, but never magically disappears. So weird how that works.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 648 (Friday - Christmas Eve)

Turkey visitors.

And just like that, it was Christmas Eve. The tracking of tasks and counting of days is done. 

There was more snow at Mom’s house than at mine, and when I arrived, there were turkey tracks visible in the snow on the driveway and the front yard. It wasn't long before they were sullied and trampled by human and dog prints. 

Mom and I visited the grocery store to pick up an order of finger sandwiches from the deli counter. Finger sandwiches have been a Christmas Eve menu staple for as long as I can remember. Then we squeezed in most of a tough game of Scrabble. The letters were not being kind to either of us and it was a relief when my sister and nieces arrived and we dismantled the still unfinished game.

There was the traditional spread of too much food. Family was present in the room and from Las Vegas via Facetime. Christmas music played on the TV Music Channel while gifts were exchanged. The conversation ran the gamut from work to food to Christmas trivia on the TV to the time some of my middle niece’s wisps of hair caught on fire at church during the candlelight singing of “Silent Night” and my sister and Mom were trying to pat it out without causing a scene. A question about Cher’s birth name came up when discussing Tony Orlando and Dawn and Sonny and Cher. (It’s Cherilyn Sarkisian according to Wikipedia and now you don’t have to look it up. You are welcome.)

Visitors to the fallen
seed buffet..

Winston was a trooper. He roamed around and squealed when he walked into someone’s leg. He navigated outside with the guidance of a leash to do his business and sniffed a trail all around the perimeter of the house. The back yard see lots of visitors, and the snow under the bird feeder in the center of the screen house frame had a network of  prints. Elsewhere were kitty cat prints and clusters of paw prints I wasn't familiar with.

Throughout the gathering, Winston retreated to his bed to sleep, which, no matter where it had been placed out of the way of the humans, he dragged to the middle of the living room floor before settling in.

It was a nice afternoon and evening with much needed family time. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 647 (Thursday)

For several weeks, I smugly thought I was done with the acquisition of the Christmas gift items. Night after night and each weekend for over a month, I’ve kicked back, feet up on the ottoman, watching whatever is streaming on the big screen. It’s been stress free. It’s been great. 

A paper tree is all
I could deal with.

Tonight, after work, I finally buckled down to do the wrapping, bagging, and tagging. That’s when I realized oversights had occurred. Gift for X? Oops. Gift for Y? Oh, crap. Had the “checkout” button been pushed any one of the dozens of times that cool things had been loaded into online shopping carts since Halloween, it would have been all set.  And it was too late now. Live and learn. Or something.

Earlier in the day, it was decided to make the family kielbasa recipe for Mom’s on Friday night. The only problem to executing the plan was the absence of kielbasa in the house, because without it, the recipe is just a cooked mixture of ketchup, vinegar and brown sugar. At least I was already in the frame of mind to head out shopping.

A trip was made out to the world. The kielbasa was procured, along with a couple non-food gift items, and it was done. Again.  Back at home, the recipe was made so it just needs reheating tomorrow. While it baked, the rest of the gifts were wrapped and tagged and checked off the list. And wouldn’t you know it, there was still something missing.

The options were going back out again or waiting until the morning, which is a scheduled vacation day. The vacation day was previously mapped out for drinking coffee and boxing baked goods for Mom’s. To avoid extra stress in the morning, it was back out to the store.

The wrapping, bagging and tagging was completed. The list has been triple checked. Quadruple checked. The gifts were stacked beneath the folded paper tree constructed from two catalogues long enough to take a picture and then they went into a box. I needed proof for myself that I haven’t completely thrown in the towel with the Christmas spirit thing. Despite having several trees and many storage tubs of lights and decorations in the basement, a paper folded tree is the closest I could get to the work of decorating this year. It just felt like too much.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 646 (Wednesday)

The weather was cold and slick with frozen rain, which I learned when letting Winston outside at 6:30 this morning. Winston made it to the top of three concrete steps outside the front porch and started skidding. He backed up the stairs and came back inside. We tried the back door, where the small deck and steps are made of the composite deck plank material. We made it down the steps to head to the back yard. That’s when it was my turn to skid out, as I reenacted the Bambi on ice scene while slipping on the black ice coated driveway while clad in pajamas, bathrobe, and slip on shoes. Winston made it safely to the back yard for a long morning wee and then scurried back into the house.

At work, the little weather icon on the monitor showed some interesting images. The umbrella made sense when it was rainy, but the mysterious cloud with the red exclamation point was a puzzlement. What the what? 

Office life was focused on food, with the arrival of a variety of fresh, huge bagels brought in by a coworker. Knowing the bagels were coming, I hadn’t bothered to bring in lunch. There was an everything bagel with whipped herb cream cheese for breakfast. There was a half of another everything bagel with vegetable cream cheese for lunch. Then there were Oreo chocolate balls from another colleague for an afternoon snack. The eating was good.

Upon arrival, the adorable Canine Overlord was in his usual spot at the top of the stairs. After his supper, he was especially cuddly. He even let me put him in my lap while I surveyed the puzzle pieces laid out on the dining table. It's possible he was more interested in the pretzel candy treats from a colleague than snuggling in my lap, but I won't dwell on that conjecture. 

The puzzle has been slow going, but there was more time spent baking than puzzle making in recent evenings. Also, the "no looking at the picture" rule is still in force and it's making this one extra tricky.

The flurry of baking activity for several nights and all the eating today have proven to be tiring. Luckily, the early dark nights make the perfect excuse for going to bed early. Winston is always on board. All I have to say is “Let’s go to bed,” and he trots to the door to go out and then upstairs to the bedroom.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 645 (Tuesday)

The sweat shop sweet shop was in operation again tonight. Oy. Two recipes were on the docket, but that was a bit ambitious and only one was done. It turns out that frying a zillion small donut holes after waiting for the dough to chill for two hours takes a long time. 

The dough was mixed and set to chill, which gave me time to go to the store for small ziploc bags and a frozen pizza for supper. The pizza cooked and half was eaten. A few minutes was spent on the puzzle, and then it back to work. The table needed clearing and cleaning, and then it was dough rolling time. The plan was to use the hole cutter part of the donut cutter, and make as many holes as the dough would allow. 

Many batches of 18 to 24 holes were fried. The hard part was turning them for even cooking, but the metal pasta scoop is pretty good for flipping them and then scooping them out. 

My skin is glowing with the steamy mist of the oil and has never felt so moisturized. The other hard part was not tripping over Winston. The break in routine with me in the kitchen instead of with him on the couch had him napping nearby on the small rug in front of the sink.

Six dozen donut holes were packaged to go into 12 gift bags for tomorrow, along with the four recipes made earlier this week. There are still holes to be packed for other gifts, but for now, its time for a break. After the frying and packaging, there was no time left to make anything else. There is always tomorrow night. Or not. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 644 (Monday)

Through focused effort, the volume of stuff in the freezer has been reduced to a manageable level. Being assaulted by the tidal wave of frozen goods upon opening the door will not be missed, and being able to see what is inside is a welcome change. 

This morning’s hurried excavation yielded a small container. It was unlabeled, just like all the others, because I always think I will remember what is in them. It was a little hard to tell what was inside, but fingers were crossed and it was hoped it was the last bit of the Thanksgiving meat and potato stuffing. If not, it wasn’t like I would starve. In case of emergency, there is always Subway across the street from the office. 

Windshield frost.

I thought I hit the remote start button on the fob to warm up the car, but it didn't start. This wasn't realized until I was walking up to it in the driveway. I sat in the car waiting for it to warm up and admired the frost on the windshield. That's how I went from leaving early to barely leaving on time. 

Luckily, the freezer guess was correct and at 11:15 I dined upon a small portion of stuffing, while thinking how great it would be if it was in a sandwich of fresh bread with turkey, mayo, and cranberry sauce. Oh well. 

The office was quiet. Emails were read and dealt with and work was done. Conversations were had via the Teams chat feature and live and in person. Then it was time to go home.

Ice box.

While returning the trash bin from the curb to the front of the house, two brown boxes sealed with tape emblazoned with the Amazon name were spotted on the step to the deck. There was a half inch of frozen snow on either side of the boxes, and the smaller box perched atop the crusted frozen cover on the first box, suggesting it had arrived later. 

With a small amount of swearing, the bottom box, which was firmly frozen to the step, was pried off. The tape on the box was suggesting the opportunity to "smile more" but I wasn't quite feeling it at the moment. 

I have no idea when these arrived, but at least the box that froze to the step wasn’t totally destroyed by the snow/rain/sleet of whatever day that was. Time is all a blur lately. Thank goodness for trash day, or the boxes would still be out there. The usual lengthy rant about delivery people not leaving packages in the enclosed porch and chiseling the frozen stuff off the box at the sink so I could open it is on hold. It's time to be grateful for the surprise gifts and the fact that they weren’t damaged. Well, that I know of, I haven't totally opened the contents yet.

According to the various lists littering the house, today was day three of baking. Instead of making supper, the fourth treat was made, another cracker bark recipe, featuring Saltines this time. The kitchen has been productive. Potato chips were eaten directly from the family size bag afterward and it was considered a meal. In just a couple more nights, the sweat shop sweet shop can close for another year.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 643 (Sunday)

Sparkles!

Today was my annual eye exam at the eye doctor. The only thing wrong with the eye doctor is the same thing that makes it convenient. It's in the Pheasant Lane Mall, so the days and hours are convenient, but dang, the mall. 

Being at the mall on  the Sunday before Christmas felt really dumb, but this is the current annual schedule. When I arrived, the parking lot was busy but not horrible. Inside, it was much less crowded than expected.

I arrived early, which allowed time to wander around and enjoy the thrills of the showroom of bathrooms and the center aisle table which I first read as “Roofie King” but was really for Roofing King which makes more sense. Not having been in a mall since last year's eye exam and it not being super crowded, it was actually enjoyable.   

Santa!

Before the exam, I was on the upper level looking down to the lower level at the Santa photo setup and  the line waiting for photos. In line with the people with infants and toddlers, some decked out in red and green holiday outfits, some in flannel, was a female around 20 or so, with jet black hair, dressed all in black in an ensemble somewhere between goth and punk and with a huge red and green sequin bow on her head. She may have been the most interesting looking person in the entire mall. All the other shoppers blended into a boring swarm of jeans, sneakers, and branded sweatshirts, but the girl in the skirt with the ripped tights and combat boots took the day. As cute as all the little girls twirling through the mall in their ballerina skirt dresses were, goth girl was my favorite and I hope her photo with Santa came out how she wanted it. 

The exam was fine, but the selection of frames was dismal. They didn’t have anything even close to the frames I’ve been looking at online for a month. However, they finally have the frames I wanted three or four years ago (which I got years ago elsewhere).

On the drive home I stopped for gas, which turned out to be an adventure. When the tank was full, the pump didn’t automatically shut off, and gas started shooting out of the tank. It was on my jeans and my hand before I could release the latch on the pump. I went inside and told the person working that the pump didn’t shut off and he looked at my soaked leg and gave me a bunch of paper towels. Because of the overpowering stench of my new gasoline cologne, the stops at Market Basket and Marshalls were cancelled. It was a race home to strip off the wet and smelly jeans.  

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 642 (Saturday)

The day was planned to be a day of nothing. As in, lounging around the house all day, drinking coffee, watching movies and/or reading. I talked with Mom during the week and when she asked about my weekend plans, I said “I’m not doing anything on Saturday. Nothing. On purpose, and I can’t wait.”

Finnish breakfast at home.

The day began with sitting around in pajamas and the purple bathrobe I’ve had for close to forever, sipping freshly opened and brewed new Finnish coffee, paired with some Finnish pulla bread from the freezer. It was yummy. 

After I got dressed the day of doing nothing began going sideways. In advance of the forecasted snow/sleet/frozen crap from the sky, the poop crop was harvested in the front and back yards. It was a bountiful gathering, due to the neglect of the property owner. Right, me. The weird holes that appeared in the back yard a couple months ago have tripled. Something has dug up the yard with dozens of shallow holes. I’m positive it wasn’t Winston, because he’s never been a digger, they aren’t like dog dug holes, and he’s never outside long enough to do such a thing.

Winston and I went for a ride to pick up free home COVID tests that were being distributed this morning. It was a short ride that took us through a neighborhood with streets named for months and numbers and a big hill with some really cool older homes that reminded me of Fitchburg.

It’s my own fault for not knowing the city. In five years here, I’ve never gone exploring.  Moving to a city and not getting to know it is something I was always critical of other people for, and now I’m one of those people who lives in a city and only knows how to get to work and back home.

Sadly, it’s just one of the many ways in which I’ve developed habits criticized in others. We won’t get into all the others just now, I was already bummed out at lack of local awareness.

On the way back home, Winston suddenly started barking which is unusual, and I kept telling him we’d be home in a minute and hoping if he needed to potty we’d make it in time. When we got home, he stopped barking. He also marched up the stairs to the door without a potty stop, so there is no telling what the outburst was about.

Duck vs chicken egg.

After the unplanned errand, the holiday sweets began to happen in the kitchen while music channel played on the TV. I was chilly and thought baking would be a good remedy. Unfortunately, the first recipe I grabbed to work on was a no-bake cracker candy thing. Then, a cookie dough was mixed, where a direct comparison was seen of a large chicken egg and a duck egg. Wow. I hope the giant duck egg doesn't affect the recipe.

The dough was rolled into logs and needed four hours to chill, so the dishes were cleaned up. the oven hadn't been turned on yet, but at least the dish water was warm. Then a new puzzle was started. Now, the big decision is whether to slice and bake a million cinnamon cookies or finally get back to the plan of doing nothing.

It wasn’t the day I planned, and I failed at doing nothing, but it all felt pretty good.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 641 (Friday)

After being sick on Thursday, I woke up Friday feeling completely rejuvenated. Risen from the dead. It was as if the previous 24 hours hadn’t happened, and considering that I slept through most of them, they kind of didn’t happen. Not to me anyway. 

There was mild fear and trepidation about opening the work inbox this morning, but after a deep breath it was opened. There were 75 unread emails in the inbox, plus another bunch of emails that are directed to specific folders of generally not urgent subscription service messages. All in all, it could have been a lot worse. It felt like dodging a bullet.

It was pretty much just another day, which was a bit disappointing after feeling dead the day before. Perhaps resurrection is not all it's cracked up to be. Let's discuss. 

Things were crossed off the project list. Other things made me mutter “What in the actual f#ck?” Multiple times. Mostly about the same project, and out loud because I was working from home. Winston was let out. And in. And out. And in. He is as adorable as ever. The new list for next week was drafted.

Tasted like a whole lot of blah.

The day was tolerable, but supper was just a notch above disappointing. The idea was solid – cheese ravioli with a cream and tomato sauce with onion, mushroom, and shrimp. The execution was blah. The sauce was more like a crappy version of off-brand tomato soup. There are no sweets in the house to remove the supper memory from my mouth, a deliberate decision that is now causing deep regret. If I want something fun to eat, I’ll need to bust out the bakeware and get busy. Maybe tomorrow. 

The evening’s occupation is cabernet sauvignon and flipping through the Xfinity guide, Netflix, and Prime, muttering “What in the actual f#ck?” while seeing the extensive listings of junk already seen and those there is no interest in seeing. It will be nice to see the year 2022 on a show and know the show hasn’t been viewed yet. For a month or two, anyway. Watch one dumb show on Netflix and even if you hated it, suggestions henceforth are based on “because you watched XYZ.” Lucky, lucky me, I watched a couple stupid romantic comedies and some murder shows, and now the suggestions are loaded with both. Where are the comedies? Maybe it’s time to bust out another jigsaw puzzle. Maybe tomorrow, you know, while the delicious treats are baking. Dang, I love a plan.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 640 (Thursday)

It was a sick day spent swaddled in fleece and sleeping under two blankets on the couch. The couch eliminates the stairs and is closer to the door if Winston needed to go out. He matched my zero-energy level on the couch under the blankets with me.

Flowers and Finnish coffee.

Twice during the afternoon, there was an assertive rap on the door. The first time, it was a man delivering an arrangement of flowers and evergreens in a holiday container. An hour or two later, it was the same delivery man with two bricks of Finnish coffee in a bag that he had forgotten to deliver with the flowers the first time. Let me repeat … Finnish coffee! And the festive arrangement mean now the house is decorated and I can skip setting up trees after all. Not that I'm lazy, but ... perhaps "disinterested" in decorating is more accurate.

It was the kind of sick that included a stomach doing cartwheels and it was 4:30 before food held even the slightest bit of interest. Two slices of toast with butter became lunch/supper. After resettling under the blankets on the infirmary couch, one of the downstairs detectors began to chirp. Poor Winston trembled after the second chirp, and I was less than thrilled at the idea of climbing the stepstool to change the battery after having a headache and feeling dizzy all day. Luckily, the battery change was quick, but Winston took a bit longer to stop shaking.

The mailbox was full today and included a Harry & David catalog, which have me wondering what the gift basket companies are thinking sending the catalogs so late. Yesterday’s catalog was from Wine Country, a company with wine, cheese, and snacks from which I received a gift basket last year. It seemed smart sending a catalogue to previous gift recipients, but it came too late to be helpful. Christmas shopping at The BungaLowell has been done for nearly two weeks, so thanks, but I’m all set. Had the catalogs arrived sooner, they might have been contenders for the holiday shopping dollars.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 639 (Wednesday)

Mistakes have been made. Sometimes the consequences are a bit difficult to witness.

At 1:00 this morning, Winston woke me up. And at 2:00. And at 4:00. At 6:15 when the alarm went off, I was in the middle of a dream and nowhere near what might be considered rested, so snooze was activated. He wasn’t waking me up all night to let him out to potty, either. He was heading straight for the water bowl. During the 2:00 trip downstairs, as he was slurped water, I thought how this felt a bit unusual. The mental tape of the day was rolled back. 

Tuesday morning featured the new morning boycott where Winston walks away from his food, and I beg him to eat, and finally he does and I can give him insulin. When I got home for work, it was a rush to measure out his supper and coax him to eat it. He had his second pill from the vet, which was mixed in the food with the pumpkin puree which usually helps with the process. He had a trip outside and I inhaled some supper before logging in for a Zoom meeting. 

After the meeting, it was writing/TV/cuddle time. We went up to bed early because I was a little tired and a lot determined to get as far away from the TV as possible and finally start reading the book I got a couple weeks ago. The first chapter was read and then it was sleep.

Winston at rest.

During the rewind, I realized what was wrong. In the rush to feed Winston and get him outside and myself fed and logged on, I forgot to give him the insulin with his supper. I felt horrible, because the poor little guy’s sugar was probably all screwed up and the need for late night drinking was all my fault. 

This presented a dilemma. The insulin is supposed to be administered with food, and the vet stressed how regularity is key for controlling glucose. The regularity concept seemed to be a strong argument against trying to feed him at 2:00 when he was due for breakfast at 6:15. 

When we got up, Winston was still chugging down lots of water. The breakfast boycott was in full effect, and I wondered if it was partly due to having a belly full of water. Finally, after 7:15, he relented and ate, which meant I could finally give him his insulin. All day long, I wondered how Winston was doing. It’s been a long time since I forgot to give him his insulin, and I hope that mistake doesn’t happen again.

When I got home today, the water bowl was nearly empty, and the diaper was full of pee, which is normal. I started a pot of soup, and Winston ignored his food. I kept an eye on the situation, and after about a half hour, the magic moment finally happened. Winston’s tag clinked on the metal food bowl and there was relief. And insulin. Now he sleeps, probably recovering from the wild thirst that woke him so many times.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 638 (Tuesday)

Today, I took a break from work and went for a walk downtown. This is something my colleagues regularly do, and which I plan to do, but rarely manage with any regularity.

The walk included a brief visit to Rainbow Fashions, a chain stored geared to a young demographic, but where a few items have been found for myself, including one of my favorite pairs of boots, purchased pre-pandemic. Nothing fabulous was found there today.

The next stop was Dollar Buy, one of my favorite entertainment stops. It’s a quirky store which sells a little bit of everything. By everything, we’re talking mousetraps and hardware items; dishes; slippers, lingerie, boxer shorts, and satiny dresses; shower curtains; and lottery tickets. Sometimes, I go there to be entertained by the ridiculous translations on the product labels. My favorite so far is the rolling pin labeled as a “movable stick.” 

Old mitts, meet your replacement.

Today I broke down and bought new oven mitts. Or, as the stalker I once accidentally dated back in my 30s called them, “kitchen mittens.”

They’ve been needed for a while. The two I have are old, gross, and yucky looking, and the tip of one was accidentally burned years ago. Any time I was shopping and thought to look at new ones, they were ugly and remained unbought. Why the oven mitt appearance felt important is a mystery considering they are not displayed in the kitchen as an accessory. They live in a drawer and are pulled out for about five minutes when I bake or cook. When they do come out, half the time, I think, “Dang, I really need new oven mitts.”

Along with the two oven mitts in a basic gray-silver color, I also got a set of three mesh drain screens, one each for bathroom sink, tub, and kitchen sink and a set of three removable plastic hooks. Now I can swap out the yucky drain screens and finally hang the wreath that has been sitting on the dining room since around Thanksgiving.

It was a successful thirty-minute break. If only the rest of life felt this accomplished.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 637 (Monday)

Online food orders were recently placed. One was an acceleration of the prescription dog food auto-ship when I realized the kibble reserve was getting low and the next shipment was still a few weeks out. It’s been hard to gauge the timing. Sometimes the eight-pound bag was bought from the vet, because it was all they had, and  other times it's been the 17-pound bag, and never was it noted when and how much I bought and how long it lasted. Hopefully, I’ll get the timing down so the auto-ship can be truly automatic.

Produce restock.

The other online order was a bit more accidental. After seeing Misfits Market ads everywhere and realizing I hadn’t ordered from there since July, I went into the site to poke around. The boxes used to be sent automatically, but now the items for the order have to be selected like a grocery store delivery order. For several months I had ignored the emails that it was time to order, and one day I realized they had stopped coming.

A cart was built on Friday night (the glamorous single life), which I intended to revisit to either edit or cancel (general lack of commitment). Sunday, my email included an order confirmation saying my delivery would arrive Monday. Oops. I didn’t think I had finalized that order, but it was too late now.

Late on Sunday, there were emails saying that the deliveries would be delayed until Tuesday (my produce) and Wednesday (Winston’s dog food). All good. The reserves weren't that low.

This morning, there were text messages from FedEx that the orders were “out for delivery.” I wanted to believe it, but last Friday and a couple times earlier in the week I received FedEx notices that a package was arriving Friday which had already delivered on Monday. It seems like nobody knows what is going on these days, including (especially?) me.

A noise outside around 10:45 this morning had Winston barking at the door. It was the FedEx driver leaving the food deliveries for both human and Canine Overlord inside the porch. 

Now it’s time to get busy with some cooking plans. The order is mostly random stuff that I had fully intended to revisit and revise and didn't think I had actually ordered. It felt smart getting the cubed butternut squash for the time and effort saved, but now there are no seeds to roast, and I probably need to use it a lot sooner than if it was uncut. And the bonus was that none of the produce was broken, which was a recurring problem and one reason I stopped ordering for a while.

The order included cranberries with the word "Patience" in big letters on the bag, and also a free trial box of Good Karma Unsweetened Flax Milk, which will be fun to figure out what to do with. I have no idea what flax milk is, or even flax.  Kitchen adventure awaits. Hopefully, patience and good karma reign. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 636 (Sunday)

Sunday featured a mobilization effort prompted by an Amazon return which could be made conveniently at my local Kohl’s. For free. As a bonus, I could also shop for new and shiny things with a coupon and Kohl’s Cash.

The four turquoise, patterned, ill-fitting dining chair covers were smooshed into my purse. Just inside the store entrance was a small sign with an arrow that said “Amazon Returns.” Beyond that one sign, it wasn’t clear where to go next, a brilliant retail trick to force people to move through as much of the store as possible and be tempted by as many of the goods as possible.

Pajamas were browsed, but the kind I like no longer seem to exist. The disappointing clearance racks in intimates and shoes were examined. En route to the back of the store and the housewares department the Amazon returns counter was found. The return was made quickly, and the nice folks at Kohl’s even presented a $5 Kohl’s Cash coupon, good for in-store shipping. Bonus jackpot.

Flush with the success of the completed mission and the bonus pretend money, the cookware section was the next target. For what feels like forever but is probably closer to a couple years, a replacement for a Mirro 10-inch pan with a lid has been sought. It has straight sides, a cracked and split wooden handle, a knicked non-stick cooking surface that is likely leaching all sorts of undesirable stuff into my food, and a glass lid. The size fits one burner without creeping over to the next one, unlike the 12-inch  stovetop hog that rarely leaves the cabinet.

The task has seemed insurmountable. There are roughly one billion 12-inch pans with a lid and roughly zero 10-inch models with straight sides and a lid. There are also countless 10-piece, 12-piece, million piece cookware sets with various sizes and combinations of stockpots, saucepans, sauté pans, fry pans and sometimes utensils. 

Kohl’s has random individual and incorrect pans plus sets with prices ranging from $99.99 to $379.99. With the 30% coupon and now $15 in Kohl’s cash, some of them almost felt affordable. There was a shiny red set, a dark blue set, a teal set and several in less pretty colors. The boxes are heavy and I lacked a carriage.

Comparisons were attempted of the pots and pans in the cabinet, but not knowing the capacity or sizes made the shopping harder. The only known size is the 10” pan with a lid.

Dazzled by the pretty colors, I was warming to the idea of shelling out the dough for an entire matched set just to get the one coveted pan with a lid. A new boxed set could also mean even more pans in the already crowded cabinet. If the new pieces aren’t the same capacity as the current beloved pieces, chaos could overtake the kitchen.

Enough laps were made around the cookware section that it felt like a fitness program. Individual display pieces were lifted and examined. Boxes were read. The Navy blue set was compared to the red and the teal sets and the deluxe line of nondescript color. The displays were not next to each other, which was the reason for all the walking.

There were many not quite right options and it had become exhausting. Eventually, I left, overwhelmed and emptyhanded, but when I passed the checkout line that now snaked across the front of the store and about a half mile up the aisle, I felt better. An inventory of sizes was needed to determine if the dark blue set with the 2.5 quart saucepan was better than the red set with the 3 quart saucepan. Maybe I would return after supper and some investigation.

Once home, the cabinet was emptied, the pots and pans examined, and a list made. Sets were looked at online. No one set allows for an exact swap of my favorite and most used saucepans and fry pans. The perfectly sized Revere 2 quart saucepan which I’ve always wished had a lid would be replaced by a 1.5 quart with a lid. The closest match in any of the sets for the regularly used 4 quart Farberware saucepan with a lid and perpetually loose handle is a 3 quart saucepan. The beloved, 8-quart Oneida pot with a lid used for soup would be replaced with a puny 5 or 6 quart pot with lid.

This is why the mismatched, beat to crap 30 or 40 year old cookware is still in service in my kitchen.  On the bright side, there is now a list of the sizes in the current Frankenstein set.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 635 (Saturday)

Moose, December 11, 2009

One can learn a lot in a dozen dog years. Or more correctly, in a dozen years with dogs.

On this date in 2009, it was Moose’s second day in my home. His path to my door was me being immediately smitten by his photo on petfinder-dot-com, seeing him at the shelter, and completing paperwork. Then he went to the vet for neutering and then to my house.

Part of that second day, he laid on the floor next to his new blue, fleece bed. Maybe he wasn't familiar with beds. Maybe he objected to the plaid. He eventually ate holes in the bed, along with other cloth items including all his fabric toys and one of my shirts.

The specific challenge of Day Two with Moose, as noted in a Facebook post, included learning about doggy potty habits. There was pee in the house and outside. There was poop in the house mere minutes after he had been outside. The pee in the house situation lasted forever. I never learned Moose's pre-shelter story, but if I had to guess, peeing in the house may have been a big factor that led to him being in the shelter.

There was a lot I didn’t know about pets in general and dogs in particular, but I was in love with my Moosie despite the messes. My heart ached when I left him to go to work, but luckily, my lunch break was a full hour and work was close enough that I could go home to see him nearly every work day.

Moose soon exhibited his disdain for the crate. He figured out how to escape using techniques that included popping the latches to release the wall and chewing the metal door latch off. He seemed to have anxiety when left alone. After a while, he acted mopey and it seemed a companion might help. When I saw him in the shelter he was playing with another little dog and it killed me thinking his happiest and most playful days might have been while incarcerated in the shelter. 

On this date in 2011, slightly more experienced in life with a canine, Moose and I met for the first time Winston, our potential future house- and life-mate. The doggie boys met for a few minutes that first time and the humans planned a doggy sleepover for the following weekend to test things out for a longer duration. The success of the sleepover would determine the next step. The meetups were a success, and at the start of 2012, Winston came to stay with us permanently and the doggy love grew even more. 

Winston, Moose and I lived mostly happily ever after. Over the years, we adapted to each other. We got each other through four residences, three relocations, and the lengthy job search before I landed the current position that allowed us all to continue to eat and fund the vet bills. New levels of patience previously unknown to me were acquired. I learned that it can be fun to have a critter follow me absolutely everywhere including to the bathroom and the trick was to tread carefully. Being crowded in a bed by two adorable pups is not that bad. And having another living creature (or two) to come home to feels really good.

Human furniture for dogs.

The two dogs rarely cuddled with each other in a puppy pile like I imagined when first thinking of a buddy for Moose, but they had no problem cuddling/crowding me. It was often like being furniture for dogs, and there were no objections. It's nice to feel needed.

Generally, Moose and Winston gave each other plenty of space. It wasn't all avoidance, though. They would exchange a glance from across the room and spring to action. Then, the  co-conspirator Canine Overlords would trick me off the couch and take my spot, or shepherd me to the kitchen where the treats are kept. 

Moose and Winston came to rely on each other’s company. If one was missing from the other's line of sight, a search ensued. Sometimes, the main reason for the search seemed to be to boot the other dog from my lap, the couch, or a bed, and steal the space for himself. 

Now, with just Winston and me, there is little jockeying for key positions. Winnie will sometimes trick me off the couch and take my spot, probably to keep his skills sharp. Without Moose around, Winston is no longer interested in being in or even near my lap. He creeps in close when he wants his head rubbed and then retreats. 

Today, Winston had a vet visit. I was nervous because his thirst and urine production have increased recently and he sleeps even more than he used to. He no longer seems to like his expensive, prescription glucose control food and refuses to eat it some mornings. The key with his diabetes management is regularity, and he needs to have eaten so I can give him his insulin. As a result, the recent boycotts have been a little bit stressful. For me, anyway. It doesn’t seem that Winston is affected.

Winston, December 2021.

The vet checked Winston today for a urinary infection (clear!). In a couple weeks, he’s scheduled to receive a monitor that records around the clock data on his glucose so his insulin can be adjusted in an educated and analytical manner. 

In the meantime, Winston and I will keep plugging along. We continue to reframe daily life, which has been different with the absence of both Moose and Winston's vision. The roles are defined, for now anyway. Winnie eats, drinks, walks into walls and furniture, goes outside to potty, and sleeps. I play the helicopter pet parent hovering over the proceedings, noting the volume, velocity, and color of urine. We share the couch each night like an old couple, with Winston napping at one end and me at the other end with with a show on the TV and the laptop and phone nearby. 

For now, it’s a small life. In this year of loss and upheaval, it seems that what is needed is laying low for a while to recharge, and that's okay.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 634 (Friday)

Today, while parking in the garage downtown, I realized that, despite thinking of it at least three times before leaving the house, lunch was still at home. There were tasty options available, too, which had been pondered while dressing, drinking coffee, letting the dog out, and several other times during the morning. Macaroni and cheese. Rutabaga casserole. Pineapple and kalamata olive pizza. Peanut butter sandwich. Turkey sandwich. Tortellini with pesto sauce. So many options.

Luckily there is no starving in Downtown Lowell. Options include the convenience of Subway, just steps from the office, or a panini from a fancier shop a block or so away for which I have a gift card. There is the deli counter of a market a block away, and many wonderful small restaurants.  

Sweet bologna, cheese, pretzel lunch.

But sometimes, luck shines brightly, and donning a coat and going outside wasn’t required. This was thanks to a basket of meat, cheeses, crackers, snacks, and chocolates that arrived in the office earlier in the week.

The improvised lunch of sweet bologna, cheddar cheese, smoked gouda, and honey mustard pretzels was plated on the most elegant of office kitchenette paper plates. The table for one was set at my cubicle, where I tried to avoid getting cheese crumbs in the keyboard while reading the news and lunching. 

Breakfast had also come from the basket, and was a hearty repast of nuts and dried fruits supplemented with chocolates and accompanied by a side of butterscotch coffee. This was much more appealing than the crunchy (dry as chalk) granola bar or the boring instant oatmeal stocked in my desk.  Overall, it was a pretty good lunch and breakfast.