“Remoted” Day 307 (Sunday)

Quiche!

The domestic urge kicked in again today with multiple loads of laundry and oven work. The recent cheese purchase triggered a quiche versus mac and cheese debate. Quiche won, because quiche is delicious and also because some of the eggs and the milk were bumping up on their use by dates. The mac and cheese may be a Monday holiday project. 

The quiche involves the same dilemma every time which I forget about once the dish goes into the oven. The recipe is crustless and uses Bisquick, which forms a thin crust. The recipe calls for a 9” x 9” baking dish, which is where it gets tricky every time. My baking dishes include two 8”x 8” dishes, one 9” x 7,” one 8” x 11.5,” and one 9” x 13.” There are exactly zero 9” x 9” baking dishes. Then the math kicks in with square inch calculations. I don’t know why there is no 9” x 9” in my baking dish collection, or why I never remember to look for one when in a store.

The ingredients list calls for “one bar of Cracker Barrel cheese, grated.” The recipe is from the 1980s or 90s, so I don’t know the weight of a bar of Cracker Barrel cheese when it was written. If it’s anything like ice cream or candy bars, it was probably larger than it is today. I usually use the grocery store brand shredded cheese anyway, and use “some,” which varies by what is on hand. No matter how much is used, it’s never enough anyway. Today, sharp cheddar went into the recipe, followed by a debate about adding other cheeses. In the end, the “other cheeses” were saved for a potential Monday mac and cheese.

Sliced mushrooms, chopped onion, and diced roasted butternut squash were neatly arranged in the bottom of the 9” x 7” baking dish and the cheese was layered on top of it. The recipe calls for mixing the cheese with the eggs, milk, and Bisquick, but years of making this recipe have shown that the cheese always settles at the bottom of the mixing bowl and when pouring the mixture into the baking dish, the cheese lands in a big clump in one spot.

Chowing cheddar.

In the “clean up as you go” method learned many, many moons ago in junior high Home Economics cooking class, measuring tools and utensils were put into the dishwasher and the hand wash items shifted off the counter and into the sink. The remaining sliced mushrooms and butternut squash were put into the freezer. The rest of the onion was put in a small container in the refrigerator. The cheese bag was sealed. 

While walking the few steps to the refrigerator to return the cheese to the deli drawer, I shook the bag to redistribute the bulk so it would fit flat in the drawer. A geyser of sharp cheddar cheese shreds arced out of the bag. The dogs, startled by the sudden shower of cheese, pounced upon their good fortune. It turns out the so-called resealable bags for Hannaford store brand cheese don’t actually seal, which I remembered being a problem after the cheese shower had already hit the floor. I tried three or four more times to seal the bag before giving up, folding the bag over and slipping it into a Ziploc bag that actually seals.

Sunday brunch of quiche
 and roasted beets.

The wasted cheese on the floor, as Mom used to say, “really frosted my cookies,” but on the bright side, while Moose and Winston were occupied with the cleanup operation, they weren’t under my feet. The eggs were beaten with the Bisquick, tarragon was added like Mummu always did with egg dishes, and the recipe finished.

An hour after going into the oven, the baked quiche emerged. Plated with diced roasted beets, it made a nice Sunday brunch. Because the boys had already indulged in an indeterminate amount of cheese, I didn’t feel as guilty for denying them quiche. It’s loaded with onion, which is bad for dogs, but those are not words they understand. 

“Remoted” Day 306 (Saturday)

January 16 is one of those days that over the years had interesting things going on. If not for Facebook's "On this Day" memories feature, the specifics would be lost.

Eleven years ago on this date, according to a brief status update, “The 402,” my home in Tennessee, was in the final stages of an HVAC project, which, if I recall correctly, was running longer than scheduled. That status reads, “is on day six of heating/cooling install and attic seal/insulation. None of us knew what we were in for.”

Dr. Sketchy event of long ago.

Ten years ago this date featured a trip from Clarksville to East Nashville for one of several Dr. Sketchy’s Anti-Art School events I attended. At Dr. Sketchy, models from all walks of life, usually in costumes, or in the cases of the burlesque dancer models, various states of undress, pose for sketches ranging from one to thirty minutes. It took place monthly on a Sunday and was always fun. I always meant to attend it more regularly, but for various (usually lame) reasons I didn’t, and then I sold The 402 and moved. After returning to Massachusetts, I attended one or two Dr. Sketchy programs in Somerville. Again, the plan was always to attend more often, which once again didn’t happen, and then the local program stopped. This is a theme that repeats throughout my life. 

Six years ago on this date, my niece’s high school hockey team was playing. She had translated her street hockey skills to the ice and was with her team at the ice rink at Cushing Academy. Now she’s been graduated from high school for several years, lives in Las Vegas, and has her own life.

Five years ago, I was at Vincent’s in Worcester “Reliving the old days” at one of my favorite watering holes in America. When I lived in Worcester, Vincent's was a place where my friends and I met for drinks, the best meatball sandwich available, and fun and eclectic juke box and band lineups. Many laughs happened there over the years. 

Layers!

Today had a mostly normal trip to Worcester for a mostly normal activity – a hair appointment at my friend’s salon. Before the world was changed by COVID-19, hair salon visits were routine and took place every seven or eight weeks, sometimes followed by lunch with a friend. Now, the appointments are scheduled for 12 weeks, and except for the infrequent trips for groceries, having my hair done is one of the last remaining “normal” out-of-the-house activities still in my schedule. The scalp massage is a brief and glorious period of human physical contact and relaxation. 

We took off several inches and cut a lot of layers to freshen it up. The winter dry air and seasonal wardrobe heavy on fleece and sweaters has meant lots of static. The length had crept well down my back and was encroaching on my waist. Sitting against the back of the office chair and the couch, made it hard to move my head without pulling my own hair. The same thing happens in bed. Now the problem is fixed and I'm liberated from the prison of my own hair. Sometimes it is the simple things that make all the difference.

“Remoted” Workday 202 / Day 305 (Friday)

Recently, a coupon landed in my inbox for $10 off a $25 order at Hannaford Supermarket. That is the kind of coupon that will get my butt to a store, especially when it’s located close to home and the coupon is expiring in a few days. Because I haven’t been reading the weekly flyer delivered to my inbox, the website was visited to check the sales. It was shocking!

There were lots of good things on sale that I actually like/want/use. Like shrimp! Cape Cod chips! And cheese! Dang, I love cheese, even though it doesn’t love me back, but I do not let this get in my way.

The cheese was enticing, but the advertised item that would get me out of the house, into the car, and over to the store was the current obsession, Beyond Burger, on sale for $3.99. A list was made in the store app, which meant, unlike most lists, as long as I had my phone, I wouldn’t forget or lose the stupid list. The app list notes which aisles the items are in. It’s not perfect and several items were noted two aisles off, and others were noted in aisle 14, which, it turns out, is not an aisle number that exists in the Dracut Hannaford.

Beyond Burger, the reason for being in the store, was listed in the app as “Meat Department – off shelf.” What the heck is off shelf?” There were no in-aisle coolers in the area, and after trolling the entire very lengthy meat wall, they were finally found, very much on a shelf in the meat cooler. It was an exhausting victory. And why aren’t they in the cooler near produce with the other meat substitute products? At least I’ll know next time.

Grocery store beer!

A turn at the back of the bakery to where English muffins and bread were located on my last visit many months ago delivered me to a short wall of beer coolers and shelves of wine. This is perhaps one of the best gifts from the Commonwealth of Massachusetts to grocery shoppers in the Bay State. Unfortunately, I couldn't focus on beer when Beyond Burgers and cheese awaited.

The cheese quest practically required a map and a Sherpa and should have come with experience points and levels like a video game. Five locations holding cheese were found including a fancy cheese case on the outskirts  of the produce section with pricey wheels, slabs, and shreds of stuff; the packaged specialty meat and cheese wall near the refrigerated pasta with Italian salami and asiago cheese; a small refrigerated case opposite beer and wine with sliced turkey, ham, and lots of sliced Swiss cheese; the deli, where I overheard the clerk tell another customer that there was no Land O’Lakes cheese of any type, and then finally, across the broad and seemingly endless expanse of the store at the furthest possible location from the deli and all the other cheese, was the dairy wall and the cheese noted on sale in the ad. It was exhausting and the most activity I’ve engaged in in weeks.

The dairy wall held a treasure trove of cheese, and I got a lot of it. Sharp cheddar. Provolone. Mozzarella. Mexican blend. Round slices. Square slices. Shredded stuff. All the tasty basics except for American cheese, the perfect melt for the Beyond Burger. Oops. American cheese that is not the weird individually wrapped rubbery slices was all the way back across the store in the deli district and I wasn’t going back there.

Now, the deli drawer, the freezer, and the cabinets are overloaded. I may have gone a little overboard with the groceries this week. But I saved $10 with the coupon and earned 62 cents in rewards. Sixty-two cents!

“Remoted” Workday 201 / Day 304 (Thursday)

The guy next door is becoming a source of entertainment. His age is somewhere around mid-20s, and he is the guy with the deceased red Audi planted in the back yard for about a year, from which he sold the wheels months ago. He also has a functioning silver car that he has done work on, hammering the wheel wells to accommodate the wheels that don’t seem to fit therein, replacing the cinder block that held down the trunk lid with a system of chains and screws. The rearview mirror is festooned with a half-dozen black pine tree air freshers, and a vinyl decal on one window declares "Locally Hated."

Four or five times each day between 3:00 pm and 10:00 pm, the car runs in the driveway between our houses. It’s loud and deep and rumbling, and when I’m in my office space working, vibrations can be felt through the floor. It usually runs from around 30 to 60 minutes. The car is driven very rarely, sometimes just to the end of the driveway to park in front of the house and run for a while before being returned to the spot the driveway. 

Wednesday Date night?

More than just a transportation device, the silver car doubles as the young man’s man cave where he prepares and smokes his weed, sometimes rolled, sometimes in a bong. Judging by the fragrance that seeps from the car and can be enjoyed from my driveway, back yard, and in the warm weather, open-windows months, in my home office/kitchen, he’s going to need a lot more air fresheners.

Last night, a Honda was parked in front of the house next door. It looked like the same Honda that is parked there every once in a while, and that blocked me from parking in my driveway on Christmas. In the driveway, around 9:00, the silver car with the passenger-side black front quarter panel and the loud exhaust system was running in the driveway. Neighbor guy’s mom’s car was tandem parked behind the silver car, so it didn’t seem there were plans to leave.

The car runs loud enough to require turning up the volume on the TV. At 10:00, when the dogs were let out the back door to potty, I noticed light from inside the car. A young lady with dark curls sat in the passenger seat and the guy from next door sat in the driver’s seat. Each was looking at their cell phone in the comfort of the loud car. It seems the young lady drove to the neighbor’s house and got out of her car to sit with him in his car and look at her phone.

There are questions. Is this the state of dating during the pandemic because at 9:00 on a Wednesday night there is no place to go? Is the silver car the winter date car because it runs and has heat? Do they sit in his car instead of hers because he did the inviting? How many dates per gallon does the car get?

“Remoted” Workday 200 / Day 303 (Wednesday)

Each morning, I receive an email from A Network for Grateful Living with the Grateful Word of the Day. Of the many email messages each day, this is one of the few emails regularly opened and read each morning. I like it because it is short.

Today’s message struck a chord, but not in the “Yes, I love this” kind of way. It was definitely more of a “Who the heck has the energy for this?” reaction, followed by instantaneous guilt. Today’s quote, from Julia Butterfly Hill, was,

“I wake up in the morning asking myself, what can I do today, how can I help the world today?”

Barky Bark and the Grumpy Bunch.

I wish. I wake up in the morning asking myself "what?" all right. It's just closer to "what the hell time is it?" and "what the frig is Moose barking about now?" After being barked awake by Moose, (whose newest nickname is “Barky Barky and the Grumpy Bunch”), I stumble over to the bathrobe hung on the back of the bedroom door and then down the stairs. 

Daily immediate concerns include getting one yapping beast and one quiet beast outside to potty, hurriedly preparing their food, and then getting back to the door before Barky Bark awakens the entire street. Next is Winston’s insulin and starting the coffee. With luck, speed, and focus, this is can be done before Moose finishes eating and demands to go outside again. It's a wait at the door to let Barky Bark back in before he starts vocalizing, and then I can finally dress for the day.

Inspiring? Or daunting?

The rest of the day is consumed with avoiding land mines, putting out fires, and trying really hard to not screw things up. If I drop the ball over in my part of a project, the delay can really mess things up for someone else and their role in the ordeal.

I have colleagues and acquaintances who help, if not the whole world, at least swaths of it. They run for public office. They actively and effectively fundraise for non-profit organizations and organize drives for needed items like food, socks, cold weather wear, toys. They rescue animals. They inspire others with their tireless energy and impressive accomplishments.

Unfortunately, I am not one of these heavenly creatures radiating kindness and goodwill like a beacon of hope unto the world. I am one lonely-ass person trying really hard to keep my shit together, one day at a time, and some days it is a lot harder than others. 

The idea of "helping the world today" is definitely more daunting than inspiring. Overwhelming, even. Most days, at best, I might be the quick flicker of a match in the dark of night. In the wind. During a rainstorm. The best I can regularly muster is actively and consciously avoiding doing harm. This is also important, but that should always be the bare minimum baseline for a decent human. I’m not sure it is quite the same thing as “how can I help the world today?”

“Remoted” Workday 199 / Day 302 (Tuesday)

Winston ... adorable and
not a massage therapist.

Although I've been a dancer of one form or another on and off for most of my life since the age of six, at the same time, I’m not always the most graceful person around. I’ve never fallen while performing on stage, but have been known to trip over absolutely nothing while walking across a perfectly cleared floor, usually in front of a group of people. Absentmindedly walking into furniture and bouncing off doorframes is just part of daily life, and falling down the backdoor stairs is an annual event. Bruises are as natural as breathing and unless there is an audience to bear witness, the events that cause them barely register. The title of “klutz” has been bestowed on many occasions. 

Working from home seems to have helped a little with the klutz factor. For one thing, the home office shoes are very sensible. Without the hazards of downtown cobblestones and sidewalk cracks, the most common mishap has been slamming the top of my foot on the underside of the corner of the metal bed frame. That one never goes unnoticed, because it hurts like crazy and usually involves swearing. The mystery is why it keeps happening – the bed has been in the same spot for more than four years. 

Moose ... cute, but
not a chiroporactor.

Lately, physical ailments have been less about stumbles and furniture contact and more about shoulder, neck and arm pain. Sitting in the desk chair all day and on the not so comfortable couch/futon all evening are really taking a toll on my posture and clenching my jaw all night while sleeping is resulting in tension. If only the Canine Overlords were trained in massage or chiropractic.

Today has a weird and random ailment. While watching TV with a dog asleep on either side, I moved my too long bangs out of my face for the nine millionth time. I touched the top of my head and discovered a mysterious tender spot.

On the spectrum of head pain, it’s worse than the scalp tenderness when my hair comes down from being in a topknot bun and closer to the too many times I’ve banged my head on the corner of a cabinet. Even though I like how wavy my hair is after a night in a topknot, it hasn’t been in one for months because my scalp feels so tender and uncomfortable when it comes down. And I’m 100% sure I haven’t banged my head on a cabinet. I think. While hitting fleshy bits on a chair or table is not so memorable, hitting the boney parts usually registers. And now the sore spot has become an obsession as I keep touching it and wondering how it came to be. My heart might be made of stone, but right now, at least my head is tender.

“Remoted” Workday 198 / Day 301 (Monday)

At 7:00 am, I rolled the red trash bin to the curb, just like every non-holiday Monday morning. A glance up the street and the sight of green recycle bins at neighboring homes indicated it was every-other-Monday recycle day, so I busted up some boxes and rolled my own recycle bin down the driveway. As I was doing so, the black pickup truck that had been next door picking up neighbor guy like nearly every morning, swiftly backed out of the neighbor driveway, and just as swiftly backed into my driveway to turn around, nearly running me over in the process. Luckily for me, I was paying attention and jumped out of the way because it didn’t seem that the driver of the truck had even noticed how close he came to plowing me over in my own driveway. Cripes. At least the adrenaline rush from the narrow escape was exciting.

Tonight, a visit to a previously started Amazon Pantry shopping cart delivered another, smaller jolt. During the first week of the New Year my wallet was having a little rest to recover from the financial hit from the Christmas Day auto strike, the memory of which was still fresh. On that day, the car had gotten a little hot under the hood during a ride on the highway, ceased functioning, and was towed to a repair shop. The New Year's Eve repair bill could have been worse, but it still left a dent in the finances, so the accounts and I took a little break to cool down. 

During the pause, recreational window shopping continued, specifically for household items including a clock and a tea kettle. There was an alert bar from Amazon that prices had changed on Pantry items in the cart. This happens regularly, but what was surprising was that all the prices had dropped. It was a declared spending break and nothing in the cart was urgent, so I moved on to other things.

Tonight, with the spending kibosh over since Saturday when dog biscuits were bought, a visit was made to the Amazon Pantry cart with full intent to add items to reach the $35 level for free shipping and commit to the transaction. Oddly, the Pantry items were displaying as “Item no longer available from vendor.” All of them. It wasn’t unusual for one or two items to become unavailable, but never has it been everything in the cart.

No more Pantry "Buy Again."
Let the crying begin.

That’s when I realized that Pantry no longer showed as a department in the search bar or the left-hand navigation. It was gone. Disappeared, without a trace, like it never existed at all. If not for the items showing in my cart and now suddenly labeled “unavailable,” I might wonder if Pantry had ever existed at all, or if I had just dreamt its’ marvelousness. A visit to past orders showed that it had existed. My best cyber research friend Google delivered several news articles from Friday, January 8, about Pantry’s closing on Wednesday, January 6. As my items sat neglected in the shopping cart and my bank card cooled off, I missed what was apparently the Pantry clearance sale. It's all over now but for the crying over the lost cart and the items I planned to push a button and "Buy Again."

Had I known about the plans to close Pantry, things would have gone differently last week. The spending freeze would have been lifted to stock up on favorite items, available in small quantities at low prices. Today’s search for the same items that were in the cart and past orders seems to indicate that we are now in the realm of warehouse type shopping. Pantry had single bags of Fritos Corn Chips at the low price of $2.50, which beat the regular grocery store price of close to $4. Amazon has cases of Fritos, but I don’t need 12 bags, nor do I have space for them. Ditto for six boxes of crunchy Nature Valley Granola Bars or a case of individual boxes of Lipton Soup mix.

The other loss is the amazing boxes the Pantry items came in. They were sturdy, and would be great for my upcoming charitable donation except for one thing. At Christmas, Pantry boxes were used to transport gifts and left behind, knowing there would be more Pantry orders. This morning, a Pantry box was flattened and put into the recycling bin, knowing that the Pantry order would be finished tonight and a new box would arrive in days. Oops. This seems to be another case of a lifelong curse of not so great timing. At least my timing and reflexes were good this morning while avoiding being flattened by a pickup truck.