“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 773 (Thursday) – schedules

It’s Friday eve but also my sort-of Friday thanks to another vacation day. A long weekend is truly the best kind of weekend. This specific long weekend was kicked off with a light supper of ham salad sandwich on Tuscan bread, chips, and merlot. 

Per protocol, the vacation day includes exciting plans for fabulous and glamorous activities. There  is travel, aka life maintenance chores including a trip to the vet to pick up insulin. Now that the dosage is increased, the vials empty a lot quicker than they used to. Cha-ching!

Friday eve light supper.

A hair salon appointment that was shifted two weeks ago to accommodate the car service was changed again today. (Pampering is delayed.) The hair has mostly been behaving and there is no point ruining a good thing with a premature date with the scissors, and especially not the day before a dance performance. There is a dance troupe dress rehearsal in the early evening, the last chance for spit shine and polish. So, yeah, the day is kind of busy, at least by current standards where the bar is very, very low.

Looking at the calendar, it seems that a busy month has suddenly dawned. Last Saturday had a dance rehearsal, and Sunday was Easter dinner at Mom’s. This week includes a dress rehearsal and performance. Next weekend is an arts organization gala. May 7^th is a Steampunk Festival. The 14^th is the rescheduled hair salon appointment. Dance classes are sprinkled in on all the Sundays. Oy.

I’m tired thinking about it. And moderately stressed out. How did I do this all the time? And this is a light schedule compared to those glorious days in my 30s when I had a full-time job and a three-shift-a week part-time job, grad school, gym/fitness regimen, photography class, and a social life that took place most Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. Oh, the folly and energy of youth. Life sure was different then.

The keys to the success of the lifestyle of my 30s and 40s were not thinking about it and just doing it, caffeine, alcohol, an undercurrent of anger, and a morbid fear of missing out with an accompanying disdain for sleep. I weighed about 10 pounds soaking wet and an endless stream of stress-fueled adrenaline flowed through my veins. 

The current, tragically sedate and more fluffy lifestyle runs on caffeine, the occasional glass of wine or beer, a new-found respect and adoration for sleep, and service to the Canine Overlord. Sometimes, it’s impossible to decide which version I like better.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 772 (Wednesday) – yard things

Nest refresh.

The spring wildlife activity is picking up. The nest over the drainpipe on the front of the house has been noticeably improved with a fresh layer of dead grass. The avian construction methods are sturdy enough that the nest, which has been in the same location for several years, survived the gutter cleaning of last summer. It was a bit askew after the gutter work, but still in place. Now it is fortified and refreshed for the season with another level of material.

Backyard bunny was out this morning, sitting motionless in the middle of the yard for several minutes while I was setting up the coffee maker. Afterwards, he moved a few feet to enjoy a breakfast buffet of fresh greens. The grass and faux grass are growing tall and clumpy without impediments, so it’s probably the clover patch that is the bunny breakfast of champions. 

It would be really cool if something would visit the yard that would trim the grass the same way the clover is groomed. Or, if the clover would spread and replace the grass, that might be the ideal backyard ground cover. The occasional clover flowers and the free trimming services by the bunny and the wood chucks and would be the best no-maintenance situation.

Backyard bunny pauses and poses.

The grass takes over the flagstone steppers every summer, and now is the time to liberate them, not that it lasts long. The path they form is now an inch or so lower than the rest of the yard and sometimes I imagine pulling them all out and having a brick walkway set, or maybe a nice concrete path poured from the driveway straight back to the shed and a branch to the right to the bulkhead. That’s when the brain goes into overdrive. 

A new concrete path to the shed before the shed is replaced is probably a dumb idea. What kind of shed? And replacing the shed will disturb all the plantings that will need to be either pulled out first or trampled/destroyed. Or should the new shed go in a different spot in the yard? If the shed is relocated, the patchwork mess of picket, chain link and other weird makeshift fencing behind the shed will be revealed and need to be dealt with.

The door to the current and crumbling shed is aligned with the gate and driveway for easy access to the front yard with the lawn mower. The options for accessing the front yard from the back are either down an asphalt driveway and a left turn through a gate into the front yard, or up three steps, along the length of the deck, then down three steps to the other driveway and a right turn to the gate on the other side of the yard. One of these paths is clearly easier that the other while pushing a lawnmower.

And this is how things (like the shed) are over thought and not done (for three years). Someday. We'll see. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 771 (Tuesday) – green and growing

Flower bed is
 popping.

The greenery for the irises, lilies, and bleeding heart plants has been pocking its way out of the ground for a couple weeks. The plantings along the back yard property line are coming in nicely, and further into the yard by the shed, the lilac is getting leafy. Out front, the always wayward rose is also getting green. 

Violets are emerging underneath the rhododendron, and the columbine is making its annual appearance. Every year. The columbine tries to put on a show, and every year the  ground hog makes its own appearance to eat the flowers. 

And in what seems like just a day or two but probably took longer and I just forgot to notice, the grass is becoming a vibrant green and growing. It probably won’t be too long before it will be time to take out the lawn mower and bust out the bandannas for the glamorous seasonal second job in yard work. 

Grass and faux grass are greening up.

Sadly, the proprietor of The BungaLowell doesn’t pay in cash, although there are sometimes hefty bribes  involving cookies, ice cream, or beer. The only reliable payment is the satisfaction of having completed a measurable task.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 770 (Monday) – long ago first day

2016 featured a new job and new shoes.

On Monday, April 18, 2016, I started working at the Bank. That first day of the new career got off on the right footing with new shoes, a bronze-toned low-heel pump. 

There was a new Ann Taylor suit in navy blue, bought for the occasion when my cousin and I went shopping for that purpose. She knew exactly where we needed to go for my perfect new job new outfit and shoes. The suit was worn that day with a blue and white striped cotton shirt bought when I worked at Kohl's, and belted with a yellow silk tie bought from a thrift shop in Tennessee. Even when I’m all corporate, there is usually a bit of quirk thrown in. 

Six years later, I still have the suit, shirt, tie, and shoes. The jacket fits better but the pants are now too snug. I hoped to spread my wings, but really it was my hips and thighs that embraced the concept. The shirt spends a lot of time hanging in the closet because the fabric is stiff and just doesn’t move well. It comes untucked and looks rumpled. My hair isn't fiery red any more.

That long ago first day.

The shoes still fit. Sort of. They are a bit loose because for many years I was buying my shoes a half size too large, which wasn’t known until my feet were recently measured for hiking boots. Self service shoe stores might be convenient but the old-timey customer service with measuring and fitting makes a big difference.  

That first day featured lunch with the other new team member who also started that day and our new bosses. At lunch in a nearby restaurant, we were asked if we had vacation plans, which felt like the weirdest conversation to have fours hours into a new job. Vacation wasn't really on the radar yet. 

There was a plant gifted by my manager, which got a bit frail looking early on, but then thrived. It looked great all the way up until the pandemic. Now, it's lanky and leggy with few leaves, looks like a mess, and I don't know what to do to help it improve. 

The plant situation seems to be a reflection of a lot of elements of life lately. Hopefully, things will get sorted out and start thriving again soon.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 769 (Sunday) – quick and easy

The day began with baking. The chosen recipe, "Quick Cherry Dessert" is from a "Great American Recipes" card in my possession for basically, forever. It came in the mail as a sample meant to entice the purchase of a boxed set of even more cards. It notes a prep time of “10 minutes” and that it is "Quick and Easy."

It’s been ages since I last made the recipe and the only thing I remembered was the almond flavor in the cake. Otherwise, it felt like making it for the first time and it was definitely not 10 minutes to prepare for baking. It was more like 40 minutes, and that was after pulling all the ingredients from the cabinet and giving the butter some time to come to room temperature while I drank coffee. So much for "quick."

The butter that nearly
 killed the mixer.

The ingredients pull revealed that the almond extract believed to be in the cabinet was nowhere to be found and was certainly depleted long ago. I was so sure there was almond extract that I deliberately didn't buy any while browsing the spice section at Whole Foods a few weeks ago.

There was an online search for a replacement for almond extract. Unfortunately, ground almond, which was on hand, was specified as not a replacement. The only thing on hand was vanilla, which is a great extract, but doesn’t taste like almond.

The first step was to cream two sticks of butter and the sugar together. I used to cream butter by hand all the time, and it’s hard. I knew I didn’t want to handle this first thing in the morning. There is huge respect for the physical strength of the pre-electricity cooks. It nearly killed the hand mixer. It was so bogged down with butter that it stopped, and it took much too long to scrape all the butter out of the beaters. 

Dessert remains of the day.

The recipe was finally mixed and in the oven. Once it was baked and cooling, and it was time to load the car with Winston’s bed and get him ready to travel. Splitting the bleeding heart plant near the front door has been planned since last summer when it was spreading across the front steps. Spring is the time to split them, and I’ve been thinking about digging it up since the first shoots came up, and finally happened today so I could bring part of it to Mom’s. Of course, I was already dressed in a silk tee shirt and jeans while shoveling and splitting the plant, because sometimes things just happen how they happen.

The drive to Mom's was typical New England. During the 35 mile trip and throughout the afternoon, there was a steady rotation of sunshine, clouds, light rain, and snow flurries. The meteorological elements appeared singularly and in combinations. 

Dinner was delicious and the day was nice. We got the bleeding heart plants into the ground. The dinner guests were sent home with ham and various desserts. Then it was back home to the reality of workweek preparations with laundry and running the dishwasher so there is a clean mug for the morning coffee. Monday lunch is all set with leftover Easter ham, there is the bone for soup, a bit of the cake, and a piece of mince pie. the living will be large this week.

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 768 (Saturday) – forsythia manners

The Easter holiday meant our usual Sunday dance class was held today. At one week out from a scheduled performance we can’t afford to take time off. The flowering trees and forsythia blooming all over the place, some in precisely manicured squared-off hedges and others in wild, overgrown bushes exploding with yellow flowers, made for a colorful ride.

Our dance costume was selected two years ago when we were preparing to perform at the same event (Townsend Earth Day). Then, like so many other events, it was cancelled due to the pandemic. It feels good to be dancing and rehearsing and preparing for a show. After the rehearsal, some of us went over to the event location to scope things out for next week. Knowing in advance where to park and meet is comforting.

The absence of leftovers in the fridge and limited interest (okay, zero interest) in transforming any of the many ingredients into meals continues. The online menu from the favorite delivery place was consulted. 

Gyro dinner.

Pizza would have meant leftovers for the week, but the winner in “what’s for supper?” roulette was a beef gyro dinner with a cannolo for dessert. The side salad was a good size and the fries were plentiful. So yummy. A Sam Adams seasonal Holiday White Ale left from the fall holiday season rounded out the supper. There are still four Sam Adams beers left from a holiday 12-pack. Beer consumption is running a little behind schedule here at The BungaLowell. 

There was every intention to bake a dessert today to take to Mom’s for Easter dinner, but so far, this hasn’t happened. It may end up being an early morning bake. Or a case of showing up empty handed. It is appalling to me that I used to love to bake and did it all the time and now I just don’t care. Maybe it’s because I do a lot more cooking now that I used to do and the kitchen is fun for only so long.

My lack of manners is also appalling. I’m blaming the pandemic for cultivating my antisocial, feral state and allowing it to flourish and be on bold display like the wildly growing spring forsythia. The seeds were there all along, but not interacting with people outside the house or attending events for so long really allowed the social graces to wither. 

“Remoted – Hybrid” – Day 767 (Friday) – foraging friday

There was nothing at home to carry in for lunch today. The freezer was checked and found to be full of uncooked meats of both the actual and pretend-meat varieties, lots of random partial loaves of bread, and things like fancy baked potato things and grocery store pizza that require 20 to 30 minutes baking in a proper oven. 

No lunch here.

The refrigerator wasn't much better, stocked with condiments, assorted cheeses, soju, beer, white wine, a box of oat milk, eggs, and container of pasta sauce. The cabinet was chock full of ingredients and nothing that could be taken and warmed quickly in the office microwave or toaster oven.

Effort would be required to forage for lunch downtown. Eating lunch out has been successfully avoided for most of the time since the return to the office for 60% of the workweek. Once, maybe twice, lunch was a veggie sub from Subway, but the idea of eating a loaf of bread sprinkled with the meager fillings was not appealing. If the filling is taken from one half the sandwich and set into the other half, and the now-empty half of bread tossed out, the sandwich is improved by an adequate amount of filling.

Today, the winner of the lunchtime roulette was Espresso pizza, the benchmark against which all other pizza is measured. A colleague and I walked over together. One slice of pizza with mushroom was $2.56, making it the new favorite budget-friendly, fast lunch. It was good, with a large bubble in the crust and the famous sweet Espresso tomato sauce, and I burned my mouth with the first couple bites because I was hungry, impatient, and like my hot food nuclear hot despite the frequent injuries.

It took only a couple minutes for my slice to be warmed in the oven, but the colleague’s sub was another story. It took 40 minutes to be prepared, during which time nine pizzas in stacks of various heights accumulated atop the ovens awaiting pickup. During the lengthy wait there was plenty of time to observe the pizza production. The sub order, meanwhile, was forced to transform from eat-in to takeout by the time it was finally prepared.

Plenty of parking today.

Back at the office, it was Friday quiet with four of us in the cavernous fourth floor space. Like the ride to work and the parking garage, the office was sparsely populated and quiet with plenty of room to spread out. The commute was easy and the parking was plentiful. "London Calling" came on the radio as I was parking, and there may have been a solid three minutes of singing in the car before exiting the vehicle. After the energetic musical start and another coffee from the local coffee spot, the workday was productive and the lunch was tasty. Overall, it was quite a good Good Friday.