random thoughts – Day 1,809 – (Friday) –annoyances

As the TurboTax program has been reminding me for at least two weeks, the early filing discount ends today and beginning tomorrow it will cost more. And unfortunately, on the same day that Rakuten also had a big fat rebate on the Turbotax cost, I learned that one tax form was going to be late and the issuing organization filed an extension. It won’t be available until the beginning of March, and I’m 100% annoyed. 

I usually have the state and federal refunds in the bank account already, but this year, I’ll get to pay even more to file thanks to missing the discount period and thanks to a delay not of my own making. Just more crap that annoys me, and unfortunately, there has been a lot of that lately.

Another thing that has recently been a thorn in my side is a pantry full of ingredients that I can’t access. Even with two healthy hands and a grippy pad on the jar and another on the lid, I always have a brutal time grasping and turning lids to open jars. I have used hand crank can openers forever, mostly for space saving reasons. It usually involves a lot of swearing and regripping, and there is no way I can operate that right now, either.

Ingredients and access issues.

For the past two weeks, since wrecking my wrist, every time I open the pantry, I’m taunted by jars of spaghetti sauce and pesto and cans of black beans, yams, and diced tomatoes that I can’t open. It’s annoying, and I know it’s my fate forevermore, because I’m not getting any younger and also it’s highly unlikely that my hands will spontaneously grow larger and be able to accommodate jars and lids. 

Teeth have recently been employed because sometimes Ziploc bags are industrial strength. Last night, when using my teeth to open a ramen chicken picante seasoning packet and got a nose full of peppery powder. Super not fun.

It doesn't stop at the food cabinet. My cast iron skillet is a two handed weight program. The perfectly-sized saucepan with the lid is manageable when empty, but impossible to handle with with one hand when full. A casserole dish nearly met it's death today when going into and then out of the oven.

Maybe I should find a job as a product tester who checks cookware and opens containers to ensure that it can be done by humans of average strength. If anyone sees any openings for product packaging accessibility testers, cookware handlers, or maybe taste testing chocolates, let me know.

random thoughts – Day 1,808 – (Thursday) – follow-up and letdowns

The surgery follow-up this morning was interesting. My stomach sunk a bit when entering the office and seeing a couple people waiting in line to check in with reception and a crowded waiting room. The friend who drove me there went to handle some errands while I was at the office.

The latest x-rays.

Despite the crowd, things in the office moved along efficiently. When my name was called, I was escorted to an x-ray room for an image taken through the bandages on my wrist. The next stop was a room equipped with a desk with two computer monitors, two guest chairs, a sink, and other doctor office-y things. I was too busy trying to get a picture of the screen with my x-rays with the new hardware to take full notice of the room. 

An assistant came in and cut through the layers of compression bandage and cotton and removed the splint. The first view of the bruising and the surgical incision line with eight industrial strength staples was a bit alarming. I was instructed to wash my hands and forearm and pat the area dry. It was accompanied by a combination of feeling grossed out and grossly fascinated. Of course I took a photo. It’s kind of too bad it’s not Halloween, this is currently prize winning gross costume material.

The next phase of the visit was putting on a thin, fabric wrist sleeve, and then a removable brace. The brace can come off for hand washing and showering but otherwise stays on. There were questions I remembered to ask – the main one being, “when can I drive?” I don’t know what answer I expected, but I was surprised when the answer was, “not for four weeks.” Dang. Next week, I go back to have the staples removed.

A friend and I joked about the scar in my future. We tossed about some fun answers to questions and tattoo ideas. “I fell on ice” is boring and everyone seems to be doing it this year. Top responses were I got it in prison, got bit by a shark, I wrestle alligators, my alien implant wanted out, or the COVID vaccine microchip malfunctioned. Tattoo ideas include a flowering vine, a zipper, a historic marker design that says “at this site in 2025, shit happened”, or barbed wire to fit the prison tale. Or maybe, to be more in line with my charm bracelets I add to, but never think to wear, a tattoo of an ice cube?

The driving restriction is hugely inconvenient in a world designed for automobiles where everything is far flung and pedestrians are barely an afterthought. The closest store to the house is Family Dollar, which is within a mile. The problems are getting there safely along route 113, selection of items available, and schlepping items back home with one functional hand.

The driving restriction, in addition to feeling like being grounded as a teenager, is having other ripples. One is having to change a dental appointment scheduled for next Monday, which has already been rescheduled twice – first because the dentist was going to be out, and then because my furnace had died and the installation was on dental appointment day. I was told by the dental office that, because of the metal plate, I will need a doctor’s note and possibly medication for the rescheduled appointment.

Luckily, I am set up for remote work, so transportation to the office is one less headache to deal with. Missing a month of dance classes as we head into performance season is going to crush my spirit at least as much as finding out on Wednesday that I won’t have a job after the bank is acquired. Ugh. Clearly, this is going to be the year I get my arse kicked from a bunch of different directions. Sadly, I'm in good company with too many of my colleagues.

random thoughts – Day 1,807 – (Wednesday) – fortification and relic

The weather was warm again, but I only know this because I read it somewhere. I didn’t go outside, I was butt in chair in the home office all day. There was another flurry of ad requests, a cancelled team meeting, and an impromptu late-afternoon meeting that wasn't exactly fun and games.

Lunch!

A freezer excavation uncovered a container of chicken vegetable soup that was re-liquified in a saucepan with some wheat penne and mixed frozen vegetables added. With a slice of bread, it became a  steamy, fortifying lunch which was pretty much the high point of the day until I decided to have ice cream for supper. 

Thursday kicks off with a visit to the surgeon for a follow-up to the adventure of the fractured wrist. I hope the cast comes off and stays off for good, because it’s become annoying, not just because it rubs and feels mildly uncomfortable. It’s too cold for me to wear short sleeves and I have almost no long sleeves wide enough to go over the cast and definitely nothing suitable for the office assuming that tomorrow I’m cleared for driving by the surgeon.

I’ve worn the same one, oversized, light tan, office dress code violating forever-old sweatshirt that fits over the cast every day for a solid week. This is a violation of my usual attempts to not look like a slug, but thank goodness I kept that sweatshirt, which is usually worn only for cool-weather yard work and painting. It has a schmear of the black paint from a Tennessee painting project and a smaller one of the purplish gray from The BungaLowell kitchen. 

The suddenly necessary broken wrist wardrobe staple sweatshirt is a relic of lost love. It belonged to an ex-boyfriend of the previous century, and while my relationship with him ended after five years, my relationship with his old sweatshirt has lasted decades into this new century. And people wonder why I have trouble getting rid of things -- you never, ever know when it might be needed.

random thoughts – Day 1,806 – (Tuesday) – ice, pizza, naps

The temperature was in the 40s today, which helped to minimize the glacial ledge in the driveway under the car. I didn’t get all scientific and go outside to get up close to examine the progress. I stood at the home office window and observed that there was more bare asphalt and less ice, and was pleased by the noticeable improvement. All the times I've kidded about living in an ice fortress, I didn't really think it was a possibility, but this winter has shown me the possibility. It's not as glamorous as I imagined.

Pizza!

There were a couple meetings on the calendar, including a webinar about Indeed job postings. Even though I’m not in HR, it was interesting learning about things that makes job ads get noticed. And I didn't know until today that Indeed and Glassdoor are owned by the same parent company.

It was a busy work day with another barrage of short notice ad requests. Marketing asks for two weeks for graphic design projects like ads, but for the past couple weeks, we’ve received requests with barely a week to the due date, and some as few as three days. It’s exhausting. At least lunch was easy to slot into the day. A slice of pizza in the toaster oven for one toast cycle requires minimal thought and virtually no two-handed strength or coordination. If only everything could be that simple.

Between the ad requests and the general healing of the fractured wrist, I ended the day tired and eager for bed. Bedtime has been coming earlier each night of the past couple weeks. It used to be between 10:00 and 11:00, but the past couple nights it’s been closer to 8:00. It’s all good. I love sleep. I’m reclaiming all the naps I skipped as a kid, and the years in my late teens and twenties when I decided sleep was overrated. It’s good to be flexible and adapt to new information and circumstances. And when I declare myself Queen of the World, naps will be a national daily calendar item, optional for all adults who wish to partake.

 

random thoughts – Day 1,805 – (Monday) – kiki-versary II and persimmon

February 17 is the anniversary of when I picked up Kiki from the Lowell Humane Society and brought her to The BungaLowell. Back then, she was called Stanley, so named because she was initially thought to be male until a vet checkup revealed she definitely was not. For reasons I didn’t quite fathom then or now, I had to go back a week later for the adoption paperwork and February 24 is the official-official adoption date. As I see it, we get to celebrate two anniversaries.

Similar to a year ago, but to a lesser degree, Kiki still likes to do her Greta Garbo “I want to be left alone” impersonation. Had I known of this specific personality feature a year ago during the re-naming deliberations, her name might very well be Greta Garbo. When she wants attention, she is nearby, and clearly communicates her desire. And when she’s had enough of it, she is on her way upstairs, under the table, into her hidey bed, anywhere away from the scene of the suddenly no longer wanted affection. It’s all part of her quirky charm.

In the ongoing stream of delivery packages, today’s receipts were coffee and shower body wash in a pump bottle, which should be easier to deal with while wearing the cast and going forward. A couple days ago, while shopping for body wash, there was one described as “persimmon soap for old people smell.” I swear I’m not making this up. 

The product details elaborate with “Deodorant Soap: Persimmon has excellent power in eliminating odor smell especially old people smell. It is suitable for men and women.” Umm, what? Do people shop for soap using that description? Holy crap. A smiling. presumably old people smelly model holds the product in an image that includes the headline text  "Body Wash for Old People." I hope she was paid well for that gig.

"Soap for old people smell."

As much as I do not want to smell like an old person, which I actively combat by avoiding powdery and flowery scents, I did not buy that particular soap. I bought Dr. Teal’s Vitamin C with shea butter and aloe. Citrus seems normal. And now I’ll be suspicious of anything with persimmon fragrance.

random thoughts – Day 1,804 – (Sunday) – resting phase

It was another glorious day of mostly rest at The BungaLowell broken bone recovery center. The day was largely occupied with Snuggie swaddled couch comfort. Pain meds mean no driving and also feeling tired, but there were some wakeful diversions. I ran through the troupe dances for the April performance, casted wrist more clunky than graceful, but the footwork is pretty solid. 

Surf and turf.

A portion of last night’s delivery order of surf and turf with rice pilaf and toss salad served as lunch. There was an afternoon nap. A slice of last night’s cheese pizza delivery provided supper. The freezer is re-stocked with pizza slices. The ice cream reserves are dwindling and there is no intention of re-supplying. The fleece lounge pants are becoming snug. 

Kiki's litter box was dealt with. The trash made its way to the bin and the bin made its way to the curb. The laundry had been done before the surgery. Overall, things are in pretty good shape, except for the shady side of the house which is still a partially frozen nightmare featuring an impenetrable ledge of ice. Stories have been received of friends and colleagues who have also been incapacitated by the murderous combination of ice and gravity. This is turning out to be a memorable winter.

random thoughts – Day 1,803 – (Saturday) – stunts and deliveries

Earlier in the week, after the initial consultation with the surgeon but before the surgery, there were seeds of ideas of weekend activities, including attending WinterFest downtown. The surgeon had been all easy breezy and it seemed like my recovery from his masterful mechanical repairs would be on par with getting over a papercut. Or maybe it was wishful thinking.

The post-op experience hasn’t been horrible, but it’s definitely challenging. The medication schedule of acetaminophen, ibuprofen, and prescription pain medicine at dosage intervals of eight, six, and four hours requires planning, recordkeeping, and inventory management. 

Stunts and consequences.

Luckily, Amazon delivers OTC meds quickly, because I realized last night I was nearly out of Ibuprofen. After the bedtime dose, there was just one dose left. It was ordered and delivered on the doorstep within about 16 hours, along with a second package that I thought might be a mistake. It wasn’t a misdirected package. It was an insulated cup with lid and straw, featuring a broken arm figure and “I do my own stunts,” a gift from my super thoughtful cousin. I laughed out loud. It felt good.

As for Saturday recreational activities? Nope. The basic activity of a much-needed shower was an ordeal. The illustrated instructions for the cast cover seemed straightforward, but also showed two functional hands applying the cover onto a third casted arm and I was one hand short of the staffing level shown. 

My arm was wrangled into the cover and the shower took place without incident or additional injury. It was exhausting. 

The sun was shining and the sky was blue. There was a willing sidekick for WinterFest hijinks, but the idea of dressing in anything other than fleece lounge pants and a sweatshirt and being outside in the cold seemed nuts, and the pain prescription makes me tired. Instead, the day was spent on the couch, swaddled in the royal blue Snuggie Sis gave me. Netflix was streaming and I was glad that the Friday night TV reception issue is resolved, at least for now. If the usual pattern holds, there will be another weird reception issue in 10 to 14 days.

The preferred pizza purveyor has my favorite coupon this week (20% off a $30 order). Dinner may be a carefully curated order of “groceries” posing as fine dining. The fried seafood dinner provides three or four meals, and pizzas are good for six to eight. One delivery order could set me up for a while.

During the day of domestic comforts, Kiki staged a one-kitty extravaganza. She batted a ball around and pounced over it. In her most impressive athletic act, she sprinted from the kitchen into the dining room, took a left around the buffet and another left to launch herself onto the carpeted stairs and dashed up the flight, earning a perfect judge's score of “10.” At The BungaLowell, we both do our own stunts, some more successfully than others.

random thoughts – Day 1,802 – (Friday) – frustrating friday

French toast fritter.

The level of frustration was elevated and the day did not have the usual "hooray, it's Friday" feel to it. It wasn’t anything major, just a lot of smaller things. Even a delicious French toast fritter couldn't alleviate it. 

There were a couple of ad requests that were not only short-notice, but also had incomplete information. Listen, if you are asking for an ad to be written, designed, reviewed, and delivered to an outside organization in as few as three business days, the least you could do is include the organization’s correct, full name. Also, don’t list “we can discuss” in the description field of the request form. No, we won’t be discussing it. The fill in the blanks project request form was designed specifically to gather the necessary information and minimize discussions and delays. Sheesh.

So, that is how the day kicked off and it just repeated all day. It was hard typing all day with one hand. For a while, I couldn’t access the Internet to research the correct organization and/or event names from the incomplete ad requests. Project notifications weren’t coming through. I was cold. See, nothing major, just multiple low-level frustrations building up like the layers of ice outside.

Then, suddenly, thankfully, the day was over.

Not connected. Not entertained.

I immediately headed to the living room for some Netflix time. Unfortunately, an hour into watching a show, it disappeared and the TV screen went black. No fanfare. No weird noises outside like an accident or broken pole. Just nothing.

After consulting the mostly useless Xfinity app, entering the error code and running the troubleshooter, restarting the TV and cable box, suffering through the lengthy restart process and a screen message that I was being connected to my entertainment experience (big lie), there was still no reception. I was definitely having an experience and it was definitely not entertaining. A screen error message suggested checking a specific website which claimed there are no outages, then, in the “report outage” option, noted the servers were experiencing a high volume of traffic.

And that is an hour I’ll never get back. I could have been reading. Sleeping. Eating. Shopping online for remedies for the new headache that was blossoming. Doomscrolling on my phone or laptop. Anything at all besides playing amateur cable detective and being annoyed and frustrated. Oh, well. At least it was on theme for the day. And tomorrow is Saturday.

random thoughts – Day 1,801 – (Thursday) – post-op

The wrist surgery on Wednesday went by in a blink. A text notification for a pain medication prescription was received in time for Sis and me to pick it up on the way to the day surgery center. We arrived at the center exactly on time and I was brought without delay to a room beyond the wide doors from the lobby.

Two assistants did the review of the procedure, medication allergies, and the collection of blood pressure info, which was back to my usual level of 120 over something after being at 140 over something on Friday (and why is it so hard for me to remember two digits?). There were wires and an IV and whatever else.

The surgeon stopped in to say hello and write on my thumb. The anesthesiologist came in and introduced himself. Everyone was nice and the overall atmosphere was quite serene except for a comical scene involving the anesthesiologist and a cabinet with shallow drawers that got stuck and inspired a couple colorful cuss words before the assertive removal of the needed items. 

Then I had a nerve block and whatever else and a medically-induced wonderful nap. Seriously, it felt like the best sleep break in ages. Two hours after arriving, the medical magic had been performed and I was in the recovery room phase sipping water and snacking on a raspberry granola square thing.

While I was enjoying the hospitality, entertainment, and service of the surgery center, Sis was performing facilities maintenance. She stopped at the DPW for sand, but they were out. She went back to my house to chop ice and spread more of the sand she had brought from her house.

Updated wrist attire.

The new medical accessory of a wrist cast is lighter than the above the elbow model that felt like a weightlifting program. It is embellished with a green sticker bearing the reminder "Elevate hand - move fingers." I could move my fingers and shoulder but had no control over my arm. It reminded me of the cloth dolls that have stuffed arms with stitching at the middle to make an elbow joint. The bottom of my arm was clumsy heavy like a Duraflame log, and the upper arm felt empty. The arm kept sliding out of the sling. In bed, I had to pick up my arm and place on a pillow. 

At 2:30 a.m., I woke up, needing to use the bathroom. The arm was still numb and useless. That's when the worry started to kick in, and also when I remembered the cast cover for showering that had been suggested. That triggered a search of the CVS, Walgreens, and Amazon sites. Neither local store had the item in stock, so once again, it was Amazon for the win and it will deliver by 10:00 tonight.

The product search was a distraction from the what-if chatter taking place elsewhere in my cranial cavity – what if I did something wrong since arriving home – what if the nerve block screwed up and is now permanent? At 3:30, a very welcome mild version of pins and needles crept into the lower arm, and at 4:00 the nerve block was finally worn off. Movement had returned but control was lacking.  I did a hammer curl and ended up punching myself in the face. Twice. It was a huge relief, and I was able to get back to sleep for a few more hours.

There was coffee with Sis and cartoons, Leave it to Beaver, and Perry Mason on a channel I didn’t know I had. Not much later, after performing more sanding/salting magic, she had to leave for work. She left me with a additional provisions – crackers, pub cheese, chicken salad, Buffalo chicken nuggets, hash brown nuggets, watermelon slices, a French toast fritter, and more ice cream. She’s pretty amazing and always knows just what to do.

Feet up TV viewing.

When I finally checked my phone, I had missed several calls and text messages. Oops. When I re-read the post-procedure instructions, I saw that yesterday, an important line in the final paragraph about when to start the pain medication had been missed and I was a solid 14 hours behind schedule. Oops. 

A chart was drawn to track the three different medications on dosage cycles of four, six, and eight-hour intervals. I have about a 90% failure rate for remembering to take a daily vitamin, so this medication regimen feels like a high-stakes part-time job and my performance review would surely get me fired if it was actual employment. 

The rest of the day was feet up, hand elevated, fingers moving, and TV on. After finally taking the very tardy pain medication, I felt very tired. I hope that doesn't happen with every dose.

random thoughts – Day 1,800 – (Wednesday) – morning waiting

The wait for the call on Tuesday with the appointment time for today felt like forever. At 2:30, I finally learned the timeline. The surgery general prep sounded simple enough – nothing after midnight. Remove all piercings. Don't bring any valuables. Bring ID and insurance card. The hardest one was “wear loose, comfortable clothes.” 

Watching the clock and waiting.

I hate loose sleeves because they drag in food, don't fit into coat sleeves, and therefore, don't exist in my wardrobe. Loose exists for me primarily in the form of flowy summer dresses and this is definitely not summer. Even in summer, I need a sweater. I’m currently almost not chilly in a sleeveless base layer vest under a big tee shirt I was surprised I still have. The sleeve cut off the thermal shirt to accommodate the cast is on the uncasted arm. The shawl I usually wear in the drafty home office tops off the look. The stress is kicking in and adding a layer of warmth. Luckily, my coat sleeves are wide enough to accommodate the cast. 

Of all mornings, this is the one where I woke up parched and in need of a big glass of water. Coffee would also have been great, but nope, “nothing” means not a thing. Without the coffee, I’m dragging. I’d really like to just rewind life back to last Thursday and then not gone outside to address the flooded walk.

Now it’s just dealing with the weight of the wait for it to be time to go to the surgery center. It’s been added to the weight of the wait for news about the merger and who on our team might still have jobs. No wonder my shoulders are so tense. At least this wait is short-lived and the surgery festivities begin at 11:15.

random thoughts – Day 1,799 – (Tuesday) – kiki-versary

The Battle of the Frozen Tundra continues. Everything that softens during the day with the help of sunshine and sand/salt mix refreezes later in the day. Each time it solidifies it looks thicker and I swear it’s mocking us. The street is mostly clear, except for the edges where the snowbanks melt into it during the day and freeze again at night. My driveway currently looks like a skating rink between the car and fence, and under the car.

Monday’s ice war, lunch, medical adventures, and Market Basket activity witnessing the parking lot SUV situation left no room to talk about quite possibly the most important facet of the day. It was one year since I took Kiki home from Lowell Humane Society. I didn’t forget about the occasion on the actual date, there just wasn’t time or space to address the Kiki-versary. Today, I will do better.

Kiki continues her brave kitty steps. A year ago, she focused on hiding anywhere she could – in the box spring, behind the couch, behind the chair, in her hidey-bed. Now, she naps and sits in the open and moves around the house like a ninja, silently and suddenly appearing nearby.

Kiki in the kitchen.

Several times today, she stood at the doorway between the dining room and kitchen and meowed at me while I worked. Later, she came all the way into the kitchen and sat under the table and watched me work. In an entire year, I’ve never seen her do this.

Twice this week Keeks seemed to acknowledged there is a world outside and she stared at or through the patio slider curtains. She laid on the cardboard scratch pad that she has avoided for a year. After work, when I went upstairs to get the mesh laundry basket, she was laying next to it and didn’t run away. Not immediately, anyway. It may be freezing cold outside, but lately it seems that Kiki is warming up to life at The BungaLowell.

random thoughts – Day 1,798 – (Monday) – chicken and plaster

The walkways and driveways in the immediate area of The BungaLowell, cleared to the pavement on Sunday, were covered in ice Monday morning. Ugh. Salt and used coffee grounds collected over the past week were distributed.

My sister came to take me to the orthopedic surgeon appointment and arrived with sand and salt mixture, soup, and sandwich cookies. She salted and sanded and waged battle with the ice before we embarked on our medical adventure.

Top loaded fries at Dave's Hot Chicken.

The plan was to have lunch before the appointment. As I read off restaurant names from plaza signs, my sister recognized one that my nieces like and we had a winner – Dave’s Hot Chicken. We got the Top Loaded Fries – “fries piled high with cheese sauce, pickles, kale slaw and topped with 6 Dave’s Bites and drizzle of Dave’s sauce.” As first timers, we played it safe with medium hotness, but next time it will be a hotter level.

There was time after lunch to visit Market Basket for some quick essentials for both our homes. I thought I wanted ice cream until I stood in front of the freezer, stuffed full from lunch, and couldn’t choose. I got Korean hot pepper paste, Bengal Spice tea, peanut butter, and bread.

Today's x-rays.

There was an image in my head of what might happen at the ortho office, and it went something like a yank on my hand, a bone pops into place, it gets wrapped up, and off I go. No idea why I thought this. 

What happened was, two new x-rays were taken to check if anything had changed since the initial ones on Friday. The doctor said I needed surgery to put in a plate, which will take place on Wednesday. He sent me “next door for a splint that will be more comfortable than the Ace bandage” I had been using, which didn’t feel uncomfortable.

“Next door” was very literally the building next door. “Splint,” which I thought would be a plastic forearm brace with an Ace bandage wrapped around it like Sis had ages ago after our brother accidentally dropped a rock on her hand at York Beach, turned out to be a bulky cast constructed of layers of cotton and plaster and then a stripey stretchy bandage that I am under strict instructions to not get wet.

Surprise accessory and
reconfigured outfit.

A wardrobe reconfiguration was required in the casting office when I realized my arm needed to come out of my flannel button-front shirt before the cast went on or I’d never get it off without cutting tools. So there I was, right arm in a shirt sleeve, left arm bare, shirt partially buttoned over a sleeveless base layer, topped with a polyfill vest, looking like a bizarre first grade fashion design attempt.

Now there is a legitimate problem of what to wear for daytime and for sleeping. It’s winter and I’m cold. There are no clothes that I’m willing to sacrifice a sleeve on, because all the rarely worn things were already donated away. I have a kimono, and while stylish, it’s not winter warm. The roomy sleeves accommodate the cast well but are drafty as all hell. The casted area from my fingers to above my elbow is warm, but the rest of my upper region is freezing.

A stop at a second Market Basket on the way home yielded ice cream. As Sis loaded the bag into the trunk and I settled into the passenger seat, an SUV was entering a nearby spot. Suddenly, I heard excited chatter and saw the SUV moving with the passenger door wide open. The two female former occupants were outside the vehicle, reaching in from the driver’s side and trying to grab the steering wheel as their vehicle rolled into a Honda SUV parked in a nearby spot and finally stopped. They reentered their car and the driver reversed the SUV away from the one theirs had just rammed. We thought for sure they would stop and at least leave a note. Nope. The driver kept on driving.

My sister memorized the NH license plate number and noted the “student driver” sticker on the vehicle while I fumbled unsuccessfully in my bag with my one functional hand in search of my phone to get a picture. Our best guess was they wanted to move an abandoned cart out of the way but the driver hadn’t put the car in “Park” first. Stunned by what we had just seen, we went back inside to the courtesy booth and left the license plate info of both vehicles.

Back at the house, it was a stretch of refrozen tundra. Sis attacked the ice and spread more sand/salt mix before returning to her own frozen wonderland. The day had it all – ice battles, new food, a surprise cast of plaster, witnessing a parking lot situation, and more ice battles. Whew!

random thoughts – Day 1,797 – (Sunday) – snow woes

More snow. There have been winters when this would have made me happy. When I worked at a ski lodge, snow meant more skiers who get hungry and thirsty and that meant more tip money in my waitress apron pocket. In more recent years, it meant skiing and snow shoeing opportunities.

So far this year, winter has meant cold and wind, and this month it’s meant snow that caused us to miss two consecutive weeks of Sunday dance group. But it gifted me with two fractured wrist bones, so maybe winter thinks we’re even on the trades.

One-handed effort.

I managed to shovel the front and back steps with a one-handed technique that involved some kicking of the backside of the shovel blade, but the driveway was too deep and too much to tackle. I couldn’t get the door open from inside the porch to access the side deck. The basement is taking in water on one wall, requiring one handed broom pushing to the sump pump pit. 

The weather had me cozied up on the couch in a mismatched outfit chosen for  the absence of zippers and buttons and with roomy sleeves that accommodate the wrapped wrist. Accessories were a teal hand towel and two ice gel packs. I looked like I dressed in the dark for my Netflix movie day. 

There was a French movie about a dinner party, an Italian one where the lead character bought a villa for one euro, another Italian one about a chef inheriting a restaurant, and a kind of dumb one where a jilted groom went on his honeymoon trip with his mother. A nice day of mostly mindless entertainment.

I’ve been letting a neighbor park in my extra off-street space during snowstorms and parking bans, which has come with a consequence for the past two weeks. The two weekend storms and the extra car in the driveway have meant I haven’t been able to get my trash barrels out to the curb on Sunday for Monday pickup. There is barely twelve inches between the back of the car and the bins, which isn’t enough room for me to pull them away from the house, and they aren’t exactly rugged four wheel drive all terrain vehical models that can navigate the snow mound running the length of the driveway, especially with one hand. 

Luckily, I barely fill half a trash bag a week and I can go as long as six weeks before the recycling is full, so capacity isn’t the issue so much as the habit of it and value for my trash collection dollars which increased by $200 this year. Maybe next week there won’t be a storm, dance class can happen, and my bins won’t be blocked in by a car and can go to the curb. Fingers are crossed, but only on the hand that still works.

random thoughts – Day 1,796 – (Saturday) – rice and recreation

Even though the wrist pain isn’t horrible, it’s still kind of exhausting. Friday night I took to bed early with a book. Then, I woke up at 4:00 a.m. Unfortunately, it wasn’t necessarily because I was rested, but because my wrist hurt.

At 4:30, still awake and uncomfortable, I threw in the towel and got up. Kiki seemed curious about what was going on at such an unusual hour and did some meowing and asked for head rubs.

A pot of coffee was started. Ibufrofen was taken. The Ace bandage came off and the ice packs came on. The bruises that appeared yesterday have darkened and spread.

Recreation.

The healthcare regimen was overlaid with recreation of the 600-page variety in the form of A Court of Mist and Fury. With the injured arm resting on a pillow wrapped in a towel and ice gel packs, the book was opened and chapters read. 

There was an interesting activity to attend today (an author appearance at LaLa Books) and an outfit was carefully chosen based on sleeves that fit over the wrist wrap, which eliminated most of my favorite and warmest sweaters. A couple hours after dressing, I saw on Facebook that the event had been postponed. It had taken so long to get dressed that there was no change into stay at home fleece pants. 

By 3:00, there had been several complete cycles of RICE (rest, ice, compression, and elevation), several mugs of Celestial Seasonings Bengal Spice tea, several chapters read, a couple doses of Ibuprofen, a couple movies, and several episodes of Arrested Development. Fatigue was creeping in, but it was definitely too early for bed unless I want to be perky and wide awake at 10:00. But that magical early bedtime will likely arrive very soon.

random thoughts – Day 1,795 – (Friday) – x-ray vision

Thursday night was surprisingly restful with the injured arm wrapped in an Ace bandage and resting on a bed pillow. There was minimal OTC pain relief because all the bottles at The BungaLowell require nineteen hands and Popeye strength to open. The only flip top bottle had only one capsule in it.

Friday morning began with unwrapping the Ace bandage (compression!) from the wrist in preparation for entering the shower for a one-handed adventure. Bruises had appeared since Thursday night. the wrist was at an odd angle.

Untamed sea witch hair.

The showering and shampooing was tricky, but not impossible. What was impossible was styling wet hair with one hand. Instead, it was combed and left to air dry, which resulted in a beachy wave effect, but not in the lovely and trendy mermaid look that has been popular, but more that of a shipwrecked sea witch. Other lessons learned are that it is difficult, but not impossible to apply roll on deodorant to the right underarm with the right hand. Dressing is tricky, and button front shirts with button cuffs help a lot. 

The doctor’s office wasn’t open yet when I called, so time was spent on the patient portal on the “book an appointment” module (a wonderful convenience). A response came with news of the only opening for the day at 10:00. Sold!

I could tell when the PA looked at my unwrapped wrist and poked around that things were, indeed, wonky. Maybe it was the odd angle of my wrist. Or the swelling. She was great, and did not cause alarm, but she also didn't say “oh, it's just bruised,” and instead said I needed x-rays of hand and wrist. Two nearby facilities were options.

The x-ray tech was great. It felt like another clue to the situation when he said, “Let’s just get one more.” He said my doctor’s office would be in touch with next steps. And it certainly seemed there would be some “next steps.”

The x-ray results landed in the portal during lunch. The word that caught my attention was  fracture – twice – in the wrist, but the hand seems okay-ish. A trip to CVS got ibuprofen in a bottle with a screw top that can be opened with one hand. Score!

It was a couple hours before I heard from the primary care office, and it was to tell me they had been trying to get me an appointment with an ortho. There were none available today, but I have an appointment on Monday, so there is that to look forward to (holiday hijinks!). And I have questions – like how soon will my wrist work again because the dance group choreographies for upcoming shows have lots of beautiful hand gestures.

Leading up to the ortho visit, it’s icing, wrapping, elevating, and surviving Saturday’s snow and ice storm without additional injuries. Hooray for adventures!

random thoughts – Day 1,794 – (Thursday) – ice lessons

The snow then rain of the overnight and morning hours reminded me of an event from high school. Mom and I were out shopping at Marshall’s one night with a plan to go to Friendly’s afterward. As we exited the store, cold rain fell atop ice on the ground. Mom said, “Be careful, it’s going to be slippery.” And I, with my infinite teenage wisdom rolled my eyes and said, “yeah, yeah, I know.”

Clad in my white painter’s pants (it was the late 70s, everyone was wearing them) with my purse and a bag of new purchases from Marshalls, I stepped onto the parking lot as if it were a dry, spring day. My feet flew out from under me, I went airborne, and I landed on my arse with a thud in a cold puddle on top of some ice.

The whole thing happened in a nanosecond. I picked myself up from the ice and admitted to Mom that she was correct. I was more mad that my pants were soaked and we would no longer be going to Friendly’s. We had a great laugh over that event for many years. I still laugh about the memory of it now.

This afternoon, I took a break from being a desk jockey and ventured out to check on the front steps and walk. It had been raining all day. Water was puddled about an inch deep at the foot of the stairs. Generally, when that happens, I relocate it with a shovel, so I grabbed one to get busy. It was too hard to execute while standing on the stairs, so I stepped into the puddle with my Hush Puppies rain boots. One snow shovel full of water was flung onto the snow on the lawn.

I backed up a step for a second shovel full. My feet flew out from under me and I went airborne, just like that night in high school. My arse landed in a puddle atop ice (just another little bit of history repeating). Unlike that slick puddle night of long ago, the heel of my hand slammed onto the ground and pain roared through my left wrist. I got up from the puddle quickly lest the neighbors see my sitting in a puddle. The shovel was abandoned at the scene of the incident. All the while, my mouth uttered “oh f*ck, oh f*ck, oh f*ck” all the way into the house.

A few things happened after that. I got very dizzy and lightheaded and laid down on the dining room floor in case I fainted. I felt like my lunch would be expelled onto the rug. My wrist throbbed and began to swell.

My lovely Kiki, who awoke from her nap on the chair, looked at me. I closed my eyes for a second and when I opened them, Kiki was gone. Note: This is the opposite of what the dogs would have done. They would have surrounded and protected and licked away the hurt.

It was not lost on me that I had remembered the more comical ice fall of years ago hours earlier. I slithered out of my coat.

With one hand, I typed a Teams message to work that I had felled myself on the ice, felt awful, and was going to lie down for a few minutes. I ended up being offline the rest of the afternoon. The dizziness and nausea eventually subsided.

The next couple hours involved laying on the couch with chilled gel packs on my throbbing, swollen wrist. It’s amusing (to me anyway) that an injury caused by ice is being treated with ice.

With one hand, I called my doctor’s office and learned it was closed. With one hand, an Internet search was done for urgent care centers near me for their hours and if they have x-ray services. 

Indoor ice.

Unfortunately, I was feeling like crap and it seemed I wouldn’t be able to drive with one hand or even get my coat back on. It also didn’t quite feel like an ambulance situation. This was one of those moments when living alone really stinks. 

Internet searches were done about “signs of a sprained wrist.” I'm pretty sure it's not broken and I think it's sprained. The suggested rest-ice-compression-elevation protocol was enacted.

Compression-elevation.

Later, with one hand, I wrapped the wrist in an Ace bandage. Dinner was made, (burger on bread), cut into quarters with one hand, and eaten with one hand. With one hand I typed the daily blog, while the other one was elevated. I still need to locate the anti-inflammatory meds and figure out how to open childproof bottle with one hand and or a hammer. The impact point of my derriere is now sore. It could be an interesting night.

random thoughts – Day 1,793 – (Wednesday) – temporary art

Broken downspout
 ice art.

The gutter icicles on the shady side of the house when viewed by evening light are kind of pretty. As I stood outside trying to get pictures, a man walked with his leashed dog to the end of the street. They climbed the snow-covered path to the top of the Beaver Brook embankment and then I heard some mild cussing and saw that the guy had landed on his butt on the hill. Oops. 

I hope he didn’t see me and think I was taking his picture as I stood there with my cell phone. I was trying to get an interesting angle of the side of the icicles closest to the house. Plus, I knew it was a smidge too dark and I wouldn’t get a good image of him sliding on his butt down the hill from where I stood anyway. But he probably wouldn't know that. 

My icicles and the block of ice at the end of one of my downspouts are mildly interesting as temporary art installations, but they are nothing compared to some of the ice and snow frosted creations spotted downtown today. The benches on Merrimack Street near the bank have uneven coatings of snow that look like my tween- and teenage amateur attempts at frosting cakes.

There is a crosswalk near the snow-covered benches and there was no traffic in either direction, so I made a break for it and crossed the street several blocks earlier than usual. That decision led to the decision to walk up Kirk Street instead of walking on Merrimack to John Street. It was a good decision. 

Iron stairs ice art.

On the corner of Merrimack and Kirk Streets is a tall brick building. There is a drainpipe on the Kirk Street side of the building that is missing a couple sections and the result is clumps of ice at the disconnected pipe ends. They look like floating crystal sculptures hung on the building.

A few feet away from the busted drainpipe is an iron fire escape. The black iron was adorned with ice globs on the top surface of the step and icicle like chandelier drops suspended below the underside of the step. I would say it stopped me in my tracks, but I had only just turned from the drainpipe discovery and immediately spotted the stairs, so I wasn’t even in motion yet. But if I had been moving, I would definitely have stopped.

random thoughts – Day 1,792 – (Tuesday) – bread and kitty

Rainin Grain Bread.

It was a day mostly like the other recent days. Coffee, work, rage chop some ice, ration the dwindling supply of ice melt pellets, and the outlook is for as many as two more snow events in the forecast. The basement was checked for water and thanked profusely when none was found. There was some organizing of work projects and chasing of statuses for items with other departments. Blahbity blah blah.

After work the Tuesday evening dash to dance took place. It was the usual traffic, traffic, arrival. The dancing was fun. We worked some more on a tango number and started a mambo number and then a piece we’ve been working on to a Bollywood movie song. The ride home from dance is always much nicer than the ride in, with lighter traffic volume on 495, The Connector, and in Lowell.

Back in Lowell, there was time to visit Market Basket before the 9:00 closing time with the hope of procuring more ice melt stuff. The trip was victorious. They had the needed item, which shows on the sales receipt as “Green Monstah Bag.” I’m not making this up. The were also my most beloved cheese ends, a pack of suddenly desirable salami ends even though it’s not something usually on my radar, and a loaf of day-old discount “Purest of Ingredients Rainin Grain Bread” (its true bakery name) because lately I am deep in a romance with bread, and if it’s grainy and on sale I love it even more. 

With a new bag of pellets acquired, the driveway and back door area were given a generous sprinkling of the old pellets. I also bravely trudged through a snowbank to access the contemporary ice sculpture that has formed at the end of the downspout off the back steps.

Kiki!

Kiki provided some big highlights today. She is no longer afraid of the gravity water dispenser which I had set up again a couple weeks ago and I saw her drinking from it this morning. Tonight, she played with a ball, where I could see her. Normally, the ball just appeared in different places and I could only assume she played with it. 

She has been busy entertaining herself with leaping from the dining room rug over the wood floor and onto the carpeted stairs, then meowing loudly from the stairs and I can't tell if she is hurt, wants me to check on her, or it's a victory cry. She rose up on her hind legs to sniff the shelf on a living room table. It seems like all of a sudden she is coming out of her shell. If only she would let me pick her up. We'll get there, Baby kitty steps.

random thoughts – Day 1,791 – (Monday) – ice dance

Icicle drippage and driveway/back step danger have led to a new phase of the winter beach body home workout. The driveway and back steps were slick with ice last night when I got home and there were no overnight miracles to change that status this morning. The conditions required more ice melt scatter and focused attack with the shovel. The differences today compared to previous days were frequency and intensity.

Every couple hours there was a five to ten minute trip outside for a high energy assault on the ice. In the afternoon, the snow banks had softened just enough to chip away at them to load the shovel, walk to the end of the street, and toss chunks of snow onto the big snowbank created by the plows. The storm drain at the end of the street is full of snow. The assertive attacks to crack, loosen, and relocate the ice are being assigned names in my head.

There is the "controlled overhead swing" maneuver, where the shovel is carefully waved in the air in an attempt to knock down icicles from the gutter. The "downward chop chop" is a strike straight down onto the ice with the edge of the shovel. The "jabby spatula" involves short, quick pushes to get the shovel under the sheets of ice, and is usually followed by the "broom push" to shove the broken ice out of the path to the stairs. 

Glossy with ice.

The choreography involves variations of overhead swing, downward chop chop, jabby spatula, and broom push. The routine is mixed up a bit with chop chop into a snow bank, load the shovel, and walk to the snow pile with a chunk of snow. This might be my best choreography yet. Despite my best efforts, the whole thing is covered in shiny ice again tonight. 

To the casual observer, it might have looked less like a dance and more like a rage room event. There were definitely some flashes of umm, intensity. Every time the gutters dripped onto my head, each time I slipped on the glossy ice underfoot, every time I remembered the gutter screen salesman’s spiel about the how the screens should help prevent the gutters from filling and icicles from forming, a tiny spark of white hot rage glowed inside, because the gutter work seems to have intensified the problem. But the rage sparks helped keep me warm and the fresh air is invigorating, so there is that.

After a few minutes, the shovel with the increasingly raggedy edge worn from the abuse, would be set to rest in the corner of the landing. I would calmly return inside to the desk and resume the normal, non-facilities-maintenance work tasks that are heavy on keyboard tappity tap.

random thoughts – Day 1,790 – (Sunday) – snow and dancing

It snowed. Dance class was cancelled due to the snow and reports of ragged road conditions. In lieu of dance, I spent an hour pushing and tossing many inches of snow. How many inches? I dunno. A lot.

After the hour of pushing snow around on the ground, tossing snow over the fence, and dragging it from the hood and roof of the Jeep, there was some overhead waving of the shovel to try and knock down the plentiful icicles forming on the gutters and dripping onto the driveway. A couple icicle chunks landed on my head. By the time I got back inside I was sweaty and thirsty.

The snow may have cancelled dance class, but the roads were cleared and I was able to get to Natick for the Belly Dance Showcase. According to the navigation systems and routing, Natick and Lowell are 30 to 35 miles apart, but it feels like a lot further when I’m driving it.

Double veils in action.

The drive was definitely worth it. To set the mood, the Drum Nomads were playing before the show. Fourteen dancers presented a variety of belly dance styles and an array of props. There were veils and double veils. There were swords. There was a sword with a veil. There was a sparkly cane. There was a glowing orb. 

The dancing was beautiful and so were the costumes. I whispered a whole lot of “I like that costume” to my friend. Maybe I need to open a belly dance costume shop so I can be surrounded by pretty sparkly things all day every work day.

random thoughts – Day 1,789 – (Saturday) – predestiny and distractions

It seems like food and weather are the life elements dominating my cranial capacity lately. It’s a lot easier to avoid facing major life issues like job uncertainty and the dread of a job search when dwelling on basic life needs like food, cooking, and eating, and survival tasks like clearing snow and ice to be able to get to the job I currently have while I still have it.

Hazards on the shady
side of the house.

Scattering ice melt pellets and chopping ice have been necessary to help facilitate safe entrances and exits from The BungaLowell. The gutter repairs that were made a few months ago have turned out to be a disappointment. 

Since being repaired, the frozen gutters with massive icicles of previous winters are now just constantly dripping gutters. The landing outside the back door and the length of the paved driveway on the shady side of the house look like an ice skating rink thanks to an ongoing melt freeze cycle that refreshes each night. Winter hazards abound.

Hitting ice with the edge of a plastic shovel is a decent arm workout, and shoveling the chipped ice is a good way to engage the core. It's more convenient and less expensive than going to a gym, and would need to be done in order to leave the driveway to get to the gym, so points for efficiency and potential effectiveness of the ice shoveling workouts.

Today, a neighbor came out while I was toiling on the ice. A couple days ago we chatted and I told her about the recent furnace replacement. Today, as I chipped away at the ice, she commented that I seem to have terrible luck. This provided an immediate flashback to when the head of my department often said that I have the worst luck of anyone he knows. He stopped after I said I don’t think about it as luck, it’s just my life. It's also possibly my birthright.

According to a book I used to have called The Secret Language of Birthdays, I was born on “the day of the long odds” which is said to mean that people with my date of birth (August 13) will generally come out okay, but it will always be an ordeal. Once I read that, it was a relief and I accepted that stupid things will probably always find me, the way will rarely be easy, but it won’t necessarily kill me. At least not immediately. Call it crappy luck if you want, or the predestination that was preached in the Calvinistic Protestant church I was raised in. I just try to not let it drag me down for too long and keep basic survival tools handy, which currently include ice melt pellets, shovels, and an appreciation for free workouts.

New distractions.

Speaking of ice melt pellets, I tried to buy more today, but Family Dollar was out. It wasn’t confirmed they were out until I already had orange acrylic craft paint, a flowerpot, and a bag of chips in hand, hoping to find some pellets in some random aisle in the most disorganized store I've ever shopped. There is currently no plant to go into the flower pot, but there is sort of an idea for the paint. The chips are predestined to disappear soon. 

None of the items bought will help with ice removal, but they have the potential to serve as a distraction for a short time. This will buy me time to continue avoiding dealing with other life issues and fretting about my own predestiny.

random thoughts – Day 1,788 – (Friday) – baked and good

We had a photo shoot today with people scheduled every ten minutes over about 4.5 hours of active photography time. There was a 30-minute lunch break included in the schedule because I’m neither completely evil nor trying to kill the photographer. Some photo subjects showed up a little late, others arrived early, one was a no-call, no show, and somehow it still all went smoothly. Afterwards, the photographer told me that I “run a tight ship,” which feels like a skill that I should probably add to my LinkedIn profile.

After the photos were done, there was time to visit the newly opened PizzElle Bakery on Market Street. That makes three shops with baked goods downtown very close to the bank.

Little Delights has macarons, cupcakes, cake pops, cookies, gelato, breakfast sandwiches, and a variety of trendy drinks. Purple Carrot Bread Company has bread and pastries, plus café foods. The newcomer, PizzElle, has breakfast pastries, tarts, bread, pies, and cookies (including pizzelles). Add to the mix the coffee shops with muffins and bread products, and the downtown carbohydrate scene is rocking.

On Wednesday, a colleague had bought eclairs and slices of chocolate torte from PizzElle, which were both delicious. Today, another colleague went there and returned with gingersnaps, chocolate chip, oatmeal, and pizzelle cookies, and buttery baked squares. I wondered what else they had, and after the photos were done, there was a chance for my own visit to PizzElle.

Jars of cookies all in a row.

Cookies were displayed in a lineup of glass jars. A display case held small tarts and large tarts and treats. A hutch held chocolates and homemade marshmallows by Sweet Lydia’s. It was all very tempting, but I ended up captivated by a rye bread and a lemon square. The rye is not as dark as pumpernickel and not as light as light rye.

Cheese on rye.

The siren call of the not dark, not light, medium brown fresh baked rye bread meant that supper was assorted sliced cheeses from the most recent cheese ends acquisition on two slices of the bread with a schmear of mayonnaise and spicy brown mustard. Easy. Quick. Delicious. It was followed by the lemon square, because how could it not be?

Overall, it was quite an accomplished day. Many photos taken. Many treats enjoyed. And fresh rye bread to go with the soup I plan to make this weekend (assuming I don't eat it all tonight).

random thoughts – Day 1,787 – (Thursday) – snow season

Sleep has been a bit fretful lately, with several wake-ups during the night. Some of it is stress, but twice in the past several nights there has been a 2:30 a.m. awakening caused by a gawdawful noise outside. There is a sound like two dogs yelping, and at the same time, another sound like a long howl. The noise lasted just long enough to become unnerving, then suddenly stopped. 

Thursday night quiet.

In bed, now wide awake, I wondered what animals were causing the noise and why. Later, I wished I had tried to record it. Many more thoughts happened before I fell asleep again, and when it was time to get up, I was tired.

At 7:00 this morning it was cloudy and gray. At 8:20, lacy, delicate snowflakes fluttered in the air, and by 9:00, it was a steady and intentional flow of tiny flakes that meant business.

At 10:30, the front stairs were swept clear and the walk shoveled for the first time. Less than an hour later, they were covered again and looked untouched. There were sporadic breaks to look out various windows to monitor the state of the world outside.

At noon, at the suggestion of one of the local weather sites, I went back outside to clear off the car before the expected change to freezing rain. There were four brief snow clearing breaks throughout the day, which I thought of as “recess” just like in the elementary school days when we went outside for some air and activity. 

Veggie soup for a snowy day.

Being a snowy day, there was soup on the brain. Luckily, there was also a quart of cabbage, carrot, broccoli soup in the freezer. It was heated in a saucepan and embellished with mixed frozen vegetables, because I like my soup to be full of stuff, like the old Campbell's Chunky soup commercials that declare it is “a soup that eats like a meal.” One bowl turned into two and then there was none left. It’s okay, because I can and will make more, possibly as soon as Saturday.

By mid-afternoon, plows of various sizes had made several passes up and down the street, followed by a salt truck. A neighbor was clearing the driveway next door with a small but very loud snow blower. As predicted, the car was soon encased in a light coating of ice. that will be dealt with in the morning thanks to the magic of remote start and an ice scraper.

The weekend forecast includes more snow for late Saturday into Sunday afternoon. After a slow start, this is turning into a proper snowy season.

random thoughts – Day 1,786 – (Wednesday) – twisted and thrashing

There was some wind this morning and earlier this week and for many of the weeks previous. Cleansing winds of change? Dark winds of destruction? Depends on who you ask.

Twisted and thrashing.

The flag at the old Lowell Five Cent Savings Bank building across the street from the garage was suffering the effects of the wind. Instead of being anchored at the top and bottom corners and displaying its stars and stripes against the blue sky, Old Glory was twisted and thrashing in the wind, fighting with itself, and desperately hanging on. 

The symbol of American democracy seemed to be performing a one-flag enactment of recent national sentiments.

Back at the garage after work, the flagpole stood empty. Either someone rescued the damaged flag from the wind and cold atop the former flagship location of the bank (doubtful, but possible), or it was gone with the wind (more likely).

random thoughts – Day 1,785 – (Tuesday) – cycles

The cycle of snow, light melting, and refreezing continues. Sometimes the asphalt is cleared and it dries and it’s fine, and other times it stays wet and refreezes into a barely visible, slick, neck-breaking situation. Today, while checking to see if the trash pickup missed yesterday had occurred yet (nope) and checking the mailbox (empty), I saw that the side driveway was mostly dry and the front walk and stairs that were cleared and salted on Monday had refrozen. Sort of.

Skim coat of ice over mucky water.

It turned out to be a skim coat of ice on top of an inch of mucky water that had collected in front of the steps. Shoveling water was added to the outdoor workout plan. The thin ice started crackling as soon as I tossed ice melt pellets on it, which was an interesting sound. Then I stepped on it to break it up because I like to stomp ice. I wish there had been more time to study (play in)  and photograph the lightly icy puddle, but I needed to get back to my desk.

Time played tricks today. I looked at the kitchen wall clock and thought it said 3:00, which was surprising and wonderful. After I blinked and looked again, and saw it was only 12:15, which was depressing. It took forever before it was really 3:00.

Somehow suddenly, it was 5:00 and I was dashing around the house to change clothes and get out the door to dance group. While driving, I noticed that the trash barrels were all still present and waiting for pickup on most of the street. It looks like the trash on one side of half the street was picked up. I’m sure there is a mechanism to report it, and maybe I’ll look it up. It would be nice if it got picked up on Wednesday, because there is snow in the forecast for Thursday, and the snowfall, plowing, shoveling cycle will begin again.