“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 720 (Sunday) – curds and drawers

The physical effects of dealing with the recent wild mood swings from Mother Nature and Old Man winter were felt today. After the shoveling of Friday and Saturday, today, every movement involving my arms, legs, shoulders, and back from neck to butt was noticed. The back is the worst. Dance hurt. Every hip slide, lift, and drop, every veil toss, every undulation was felt acutely. Oy. 

Cheese curds.

After dance, there was a meetup with Mom at Kohl’s. Part of the visit was torturing ourselves with shopping for underthings, or as the stores like to call it, “Intimates.” It wouldn’t be so difficult if sizing was consistent from brand to brand or even with styles from the same brand, but nope. Every bra in my possession is labeled with the exact same size, and some are too large, some are too tight, and one, yes, ONE, actually fits without shifting around or digging in.

There seems to be some rule that as soon as I find that one bra in a million that miraculously fits correctly and isn’t annoying, it will immediately be discontinued and never produced again. Ever. All existing unpurchased stock will vanish in a lingerie rapture, and I will be treating my one precious garment with a level of care equal to a sacred and holy relic, knowing it could be ages before another is  found that fits as well, even from the same company. I won’t even get started on the rest of the ladies’ underthings.

Then there is the cost of bras, which can be around $45-$50. For one bra. These are the regular ones, not even the fancy Victoria’s Secret or designer ones. So, folks, if you happen to be getting frolicky with a lingerie-wearer and maybe the skin on your hands is rough and scratchy and snags smooth fabrics and the wearer gets a little testy, that is why. The stuff costs a fortune, it’s a miracle if any can be found that actually fit right, and it’s impossible to “just go buy another one” because they change the styles constantly and that favorite style went extinct before it arrived home.

It had been many hours including nearly two hours of dancing and another two hours of shopping since breakfast. Mom had a big breakfast and wasn’t hungry, so I wasn’t going to drag her to lunch. But instead of heading straight home, I stopped at Aldi “for a couple things” because it was nearby. Ha! That was an expensive reminder about that “never go food shopping while hungry” rule.

The objective was mushrooms and broccoli, and the mission could have been completed in five minutes if I had just stopped after that first row. But no, I kept going for another 30 minutes, and by the time I was done, the cart held 38 items ranging from a packet of brown gravy mix for $0.30 to the big-ticket item of cheese curds, for $4.29. No, I don’t think I’ve ever had cheese curds, nor do I know what to do with them, but I’m willing to explore. The big fascination is the note in the warming instructions that said they “should be squeaky when warmed correctly."

Lobster ravioli with
veggie cream pesto sauce.

The same time dinner was started, a pot of soup was begun with the common ingredients of baby leaf spinach, broccoli, mushrooms, onion, garlic, white wine, and pesto from a jar. The supper sauté pan also got half-and-half and parmesan cheese before topping half of the just bought Aldi lobster ravioli ($3.89) and Kalamata olives. 

The soup kettle also got a box of vegetable broth, a can of diced tomatoes, and a dollop of pesto. After dinner was eaten and a lunch container set up with ravioli and sauce, the remainder of the pasta sauce was tossed into the soup kettle. The food plan is on track for the week.

Dishes were done, then laundry. There was a shortage of clean drawers in the dresser drawer and action was required. The drawers are now restocked for the week, and at least that won’t keep me awake all night. Wondering about cheese curds might, however.