random thoughts – Day 1,818 – (Sunday) – visit and tasks

Today had a plan, and it was executed flawlessly. This has more to do with my sister than with me, because we know how I love to make plans for myself and then abandon them by the wayside.

Brightness on stems.

Earlier in the week, Sis offered to visit and take me grocery shopping. Sunday was chosen as the day, and when it rolled around, there was a text that Sis was on the way to me, with Mom. I had an hour to try and clean the house to be Mom-ready and I failed. The kitchen sink was emptied and cleaned, along with the bathroom sink and mirror. A small-ish stack of paperback books was set into a box to be donated, and when I tried to move the box, a pain shot up my forearm. Ouch. 

I was using both hands and I don’t think the box weighed more than the maximum ten-pound lifting limit, but dang, that was a stern reminder to be careful. The quick tidy-up was abandoned. The table remained full of boxes, art supplies, and books. Mom and Sis rolled up with a beautiful bunch of colorful flowers and cookies. 

The grocery list had already been drafted and the reusable shopping bags gathered. It wasn’t a very long list and was mostly perishables – fresh vegetables, bread, half-and-half, feta cheese, and olives. We went to the big Market Basket on the Tyngsboro line which Mom said is like the one near her in Athol, then returned to the house to put things away before going out for lunch.

There was a brief conversation and internet search for potential lunch spots. Unfortunately, one of the spots I thought we would all like isn’t open on Sundays. We ended up choosing the dining room at Primo’s, my usual pizza delivery place. Our choices were cheese steak sub (Mom), and rodeo burgers with fries (Sis and me). It was a disappointment when my burger ordered medium rare was delivered well done, exactly the way I hate it. Even when I was a regular meat eater, dry meat was on the top of the list of stuff I don't like.

It’s not the kind of dining room where a worker takes the order, brings the food, and returns to check on things. The place has no visible menu beyond a specials board displaying Monday and Tuesday specials, and everyone who came in snatched a brochure from the rack labeled “take out menu.” The order is placed at the counter where the payment system wants a tip amount, a plastic number tent goes to the table, and after a while, the food is dropped off. I could probably have gone to the counter to complain about the overdone burger but I didn’t feel like waiting for another one. I choked down half of the dry overdone meat and sent the rest home to Sis’s dog.

Back at home, Sis carried in the 18-pound bag of cat litter that has sat in the front porch for at least two weeks. The trash was prepped and set in the barrel which was rolled to the curb for Monday’s pickup. We considered trying to remount the curtain rod fixture, but the more we looked at the situation, the more it started to feel like a more complicated endeavor better left for another day. We had conquered enough chores already.