“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 640 (Thursday)

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

Flowers and Finnish coffee.

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 639 (Wednesday)

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

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

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

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

Winston at rest.

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

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 638 (Tuesday)

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

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

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

Old mitts, meet your replacement.

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

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 637 (Monday)

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

Produce restock.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 636 (Sunday)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 635 (Saturday)

Moose, December 11, 2009

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Human furniture for dogs.

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

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

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

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

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

Winston, December 2021.

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

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

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

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 634 (Friday)

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

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

Sweet bologna, cheese, pretzel lunch.

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

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

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