random thoughts – Day 1,816 – (Friday) – wind and soup

March is roaring in like a lion, but that’s how it seems the whole year has been so far. There was a brief break, but now it’s back, as wild as it ever was. When I woke up at the usual odd hour of 3:00 this morning, it was blowing hard and crazy. It was the same scenario at 5:30 when I woke up again. Sometime between the two awakenings, Kiki charged in from the bedroom doorway and launched herself as if trying to fly onto the bed. I think. It’s possible I dreamt it. Or wished it.

How it started.

The wind raged on and off all day. The three recycle bins at the house next door were knocked over and rattled about in the neighbor’s yard. It’s surprising how much noise trash bins being tossed in the wind make. The crankout windows in the office groaned. The porch window on the same side of the house rattled. It’s unnerving every windy day.

The wind rattles the windows and my nerves, but food, as usual, was a calming element. The leftover lemon soup from Thursday’s delivery order was the steamy lunchtime appetizer. The rest of the grilled veggie sub, warmed in the microwave for 30 seconds, was the main event. 

Homemade soup had a role later in the day. The freezer bags of onion skins and ends, carrot ends, and broccoli stems were finally put to use this week. They were dumped into the saucepan, covered with water and then the lid, and set on a low flame to simmer for several hours. The skins and bits were retrieved from the rich, brown broth and fresh carrots and onions sautéed in olive oil and butter were added, followed by frozen mixed vegetables and brussels sprouts, more water, a packet of onion soup mix, and mushroom tortellini. The house smelled great.

Finished product.

Topped with some chopped cheese, the soup was tonight’s supper and it was perfect for a windy evening. It had been a couple weeks since the last time I made soup, and that was also good. Sometimes, I forget how easily entertained I am, and how enjoyable and comforting the process of making soup can be. The next household goal will be finding joy and comfort in tidying the house. I was probably never going to win any perfect housekeeping awards, and the broken wrist has really been detrimental to keeping up with the dust and clutter.

According to the text message from National Grid, strong winds up to 55 mph are expected overnight and into Saturday. Rain on the roof can be comforting, but howling winds are not.

random thoughts – Day 1,815 – (Thursday) – wrist modeling

Another week, another visit to the doctor, another x-ray. The office has an x-ray center, so at least it’s convenient. And now it’s a dream come true and I am officially a hand/wrist model. Once my portfolio is assembled, the work should start flowing in and I’ll be draped in bejeweled bracelets and featured in ads for high-end luxury jewelers, or more likely, x-ray ads for medical hardware companies. As long as it pays, do I care which? The answer is no. 

Latest addition to the hand/wrist model portfolio.

Across from the X-ray room are exam rooms with the patient’s x-ray on the screen and ready for the doctor. There is a visit with the doctor and maybe an assistant, then a stop at the checkout desk, and off I go, back to my day. It’s a very efficient flow with minimal waiting. 

This week’s personal medical advance was the removal of the eight staples that were grossing me out any time I happened to see them, which was as infrequently as possible. I looked away as they were removed, just as I look away during blood draws and inoculations. Over the years I have perfected the art of staring at a wall opposite whatever action is being done. This also applies during TV shows and movies with medical procedures.

Now the incision site is covered in steri-strips which will allegedly stay on for about a week or so and then “naturally” come off. The removable brace is for sleeping and as needed for support. The best news of the week is that I don’t need to go back for four weeks. I was cautioned to remember I still have a broken bone held together with a plate that could be reinjured if I’m not careful. Noted. So, no boxing, handsprings, or wrist curls with weights. Got it.

There was a loyalty $5 off coupon from the preferred pizza purveyor, so supper was a delivery order. A half hour after ordering, a grilled veggie sub (onion, pepper, mushroom, provolone) and pint of Greek lemon soup landed on the table in my enclosed porch. So delicious, not anything I would cook at home, and there’s half of it left for tomorrow’s lunch. I like strategic planning.

random thoughts – Day 1,814 – (Wednesday) – hiccups

Unusual situation.

Today was another of those days with a few little hiccups. While working at the home office desk this morning, I realized it was raining. It also occurred to me that I hadn’t checked the basement for a few days, so I did. 

There was an unusual amount of water pooled between the concrete chimney, the furnace, installed two months ago, and the water tank, which was installed by the same company one or two years ago. I called the company and a service tech was scheduled for early afternoon. It felt like a stroke of luck to be working at home due to the doctor’s driving prohibition and not at the office where I would normally be on a Wednesday. It also felt fortunate that both units were done by the same company.

I missed the text message that the tech was on the way, so it was surprising to hear a knock at the front door fifteen minutes before the scheduled service window had begun. A good surprise. 

The tech checked out the furnace and determined that the outlet on the furnace that the pump was plugged into was tripped and the pump was full of water. It was replaced and in what felt like no time at all, the tech was on his way to the next customer. It was practically a non-event.

The workday was relatively annoyance-free. An ad was entered for review, approved, and delivered. The usual stuff. The deletion of old, unnecessary files, a task delayed for years (no lie, YEARS) was continued. Deleting old files is pretty low on the project list when things are hopping busy.

After work, the front door was checked for an expected delivery from the giant company I love to hate which sells all manner of products and delivers quickly, just not as quickly as it used to. Nothing, but almost immediately, a message arrived that indicated it had been dropped at the back door. I can't understand why some delivery drivers go to the far side of the house to drop boxes, when there is an enclosed porch that protects parcels from view and weather. But I digress. 

The contents of the box with the smiley arrow mark were supposed to be a two-pack of 24 ounce jars of Prego mushroom spaghetti sauce and a black skirt for dance group, described as “Elegant Ballroom Dance Latin Dance Party Long Swing Race Skirt for Women.” 

The small-ish box was opened with eagerness, as I tested the mobility of the injured wrist, temporarily freed from the confines of the removable brace. It was immediately realized that there was only one jar of sauce, representing a 50% failure on the two-pack. Errrr. The order was checked to confirm that I had, indeed, ordered the two-jar pack (yup!) and not the single jar I also considered (nope!). An online help chat was initiated and a few minutes later the problem had a resolution (more sauce is on the way).

A few minutes later, I got around to checking out the skirt – a black layered version of the image shared in our dance troupe social group which included a link to the item on the site. When it was removed from the confines of the clear plastic slider seal bag, the first thought was “hmmm, this looks small.” 

The label on the package reads “Elegant Bal … Dance Latin Dance Skirt for Girls.” Yes, girls. Not women. That certainly explains the small circumference and the weird length that hovers several inches above my ankles. Oy. No worries. It might fit someone else in the group, and if not, it can be returned until April 4 and by then I can drive to a return location.

In the grand scheme of things, the day's hiccups are minor. Trivial. One is corrected, another is being corrected with the solution arriving Friday, and the third can still be corrected. If only every problem could be small and resolved so easily. That would be super sweet.

random thoughts – Day 1,813 – (Tuesday) – percolation process

A chunk of the workday was engaged in deleting old computer files. Do I really still need project request forms from 2016? Probably not. Well, not for much longer, anyway. I’ll bet I deleted 100 of them today from old projects done for branch administration and sponsorship ads. A slew of files with edits met a similar trip to the delete bin. That just leaves another gazillion folders to get through.

It’s impossible to escape the packrat gene. This also explains the condition of my file cabinets (office and home), and spare room crammed with all manner of stuff that won’t be needed until 10 minutes after I dispose of it, because that is how it usually works.

Instead of driving to Tuesday dance group after work (because the surgeon said no and I’m a dedicated rule-follower), I ran through the new Sunday dance group choreographies three times. Then, I pulled materials to create my 4x4 canvas for the upcoming fundraiser raffle at The Brush Art Gallery and Studios. 

Idea percolation process.

The photo was chosen and has been sitting with the canvas on the dining room table for weeks. Paints for the edges to coordinate with the photo were retrieved from one of the many drawers of art supplies, along with a sponge, a foam brush, a tray from frozen, microwavable steamed dumplings and cupcake papers to hold small amounts of paint, and a plastic fork. They were all set on the ottoman and sat there for hours until I moved it all to the dining room table where half of it had started. 

No worries. It’s all part of the process, and it will likely be repeated several more times before the paint is opened and the actual work begins. For now, the plan for painting and attaching and sealing with skatey-eight coats of Mod-Podge is simmering in my slow cooker of a brain. I’ll get there. After the job-search-induced anxiety of Monday, this was the calm my brain needed. 

random thoughts – Day 1,812 – (Monday) – application error

I still have anxiety when I think about the three-year ordeal and the hundreds of applications submitted when I was looking for a job after returning from a dozen years in Tennessee. The idea of going through a job search again at this late stage of life and so-called career is terrifying. But I must power on, through, over the obstacles.

There were a couple weeks invested in updating and spit polishing the resume after the announcement in December, just in case the news delivered to me about my place in the new bank order was bad. Last week, the news arrived and it was bad. The casual browsing of job postings shifted into stressful panicked mode.

Among the jobs with appropriate titles are far too many job descriptions requiring the skill sets and experience of three distinct roles in most organizations, for a fraction of the usual salary of just one role. The wish lists from some organizations are strong, indeed. "Dear Santa, we want an experienced marketer who is a graphic designer who is also a writer for every word we might ever need to utter and who will also run multiple social media platforms and monitor the data and analytics. For slightly above minimum wage."

Recently, I saw a listing with my preferred job title that sounded really interesting, I am qualified for, and has a reasonable salary. Time was spent analyzing the listing and crafting a cover letter.

Tonight, after work, the job posting was revisited on LinkedIn. The cover letter was proofread and tweaked. There was an attempt to combine the cover letter and resume into one file which didn’t go well. After fighting with it for too long, it was decided to just load the resume as requested. The “apply now” button was clicked and led to a multi-screen process involving name, contact info, the area to upload the resume file, and more screens of allegedly optional demographic information. 

Instead of a message declaring that the application was loaded, there was an error message informing me of the error of my ways, “There was an error while trying to submit your application, please try again.” There were several rounds of this aggravation before I gave up. Ugh. And not even surprising. 

After supper and a White Lotus and Netflix break spanning several hours, the application thing was tried again, this time on the living room laptop. That required going to the silver computer to email the resume and letter to myself so I could retrieve it from the red laptop. Yes, I know there are Cloud solutions that would allow retrieval from any device. For whatever reason, the application submission finally worked from the red computer.

Overall, between seeing the job listing, psyching myself up to apply, attempting to apply, and finally applying with success, it was about six hours of effort over multiple days. One application down, and lord only knows how many more to go. Dang, it feels just like old times. Yay.

random thoughts – Day 1,811 – (Sunday) – wrist action

The assistant at the doctor’s office told me the brace could come off and I could “start using the wrist.” There was no guidance on what “using the wrist” might encompass, and mostly the brace has stayed on, out of fear. The fear is of potential pain and not knowing what that “use” should be, how much might be too much because the so-called instructions were extremely vague. 

Beyond the previous pre-surgery G.I. Joe Kung Fu grip instruction of alternating making a fist and extending the fingers, there were no new post-surgery parameters provided. It would have been helpful from a practical stance to know that maybe buttering bread or picking up socks is good, but using a hammer or picking up an 18-pound bag of kitty litter is bad. But there was no such specific guidance. 

Today, feeling a bit braver, stronger, and slightly less grossed out about the appearance of the stapled together incision I need to periodically clean, I improvised my own personal physical therapy plan. There is movement, but it’s limited. I can bend my wrist forward like I’m showing off a manicure, but I can’t rotate and bend it back in the “walk like an Egyptian” pose. Not yet, anyway. Pushups are definitely out of the question, not that it was recently a question pertaining to me. 

With the brace on, the dish washer was unloaded using both hands. Both hands were used to remove and store the plates. Trips were successfully taken across the kitchen with coffee mugs in each hand. Nothing was broken and the exercise was declared a success. The next version will involve cups containing liquids.

Later, the create your own therapy adventure leveled up. The brace came off and experience points were earned for emptying onto the ottoman the bag of caramel bulls eye candies bought at Family Dollar during the previous day’s walk to the store shopping trip adventure. Wrappers were removed and several were enjoyed. 

Certainly, unwrapping candies is a practical life skill (at least at The BungaLowell). It required wrist action and is therefore deserving of XP. In the absence of actual medical guidance, it’s the best I could come up with. 

random thoughts – Day 1,810 – (Saturday) – hoofing it

Even though I often spend Saturdays at home doing not a lot (by choice) the doctor’s prohibition on driving made staying home today feel like a bit of a punishment. It’s amazing what a difference having options can make. There could be no spontaneous trip to Market Basket, St. Vincent de Paul Thrift Shop,  Western Ave Open Studios, or downtown. Instead, there were several Netflix movies, a load of dishes, and a load of laundry.

Around 2:00, there was the need to do something outside the house, coupled with the thought that I wanted potato chips, leading to the idea to walk to Family Dollar. There was a time when I walked everywhere, but that was when I was young and had no car and if I wanted to be somewhere, I had to hoof it. When I was in college, I once walked from home to Slattery’s Back Room (1.2 miles) during a snowfall, because I was not going to miss a night out. Of course, I hadn’t really considered the getting home part of the night when I set out, but someone with a car gave me a ride. Now I tend to think through things a little better to avoid potentially foolhardy (dangerous) situations. It also helps that FOMO no longer rules my nights.

A list was drafted, and some of it was doubtful as to availablility. The list was chips, flip top canned diced tomatoes with chilies, queso, and Arnicare or comfrey salve to help with the really gross looking bruises on my forearm. Waze put the distance between home and the target destination at less than a half-mile, which is closer than I than I thought and confirmed my inability to gauge distance.

At 4:00, I slipped on a coat with a sleeve large enough to go over the wrist brace. It's an old coat I nearly donated multiple times and at least as many timed have been glad I didn't. I grabbed a cloth shopping bag with a handle so I didn’t have to deal with a brown paper Family Dollar bag, and set forth. Two houses away, I realized the list was still on the couch, but often, the act of having written it is enough. My hamstrings, spared intentional fitness walking since my gym membership ran out last July, felt the walk up the tiny slope of my street.  

Blanket of clouds.

I thought it had been sunny, but by the time I went out, the sky was various shades of gray cloud cover pressing down on the tree tops. Route 113 was blessedly quiet, and except for a clump of icy snow in one spot, the sidewalks were clear. I noticed the garage that specialized in foreign cars is surrounded by chain link fencing and has a sign declaring the propery is for sale. There is a Mexican restaurant and a Caribbean one in a tiny strip mall along the way.

Inside Family Dollar, I grabbed a cart, violating the usual shopping philosophy of buying only what I can carry in my hands. I also walked the entire store during my big entertainment outing. The first thing I saw was Easter jelly beans. Yes, please. As suspected, there was no Arnicare. But there were tissues. Chips. Milk Duds. Wallaby black licorice. Chocolate chip cookies. Cupcake papers. I decided against queso because the jars were really dusty. The only canned goods with flip tops were soups. I got a package of microwavable rice with cheddar and broccoli for the day I want rice in under the usual 20-minute cook time.

Early evening settling in.

The total cost at Family Dollar was $15 for a bunch of not healthy stuff, but that is mostly what is sold there. The entire walk and leisurely shopping excursion took 48 minutes. Now I can only wonder why it took me 8.5 years to make that walk. Every time I drove to the gym in the same plaza to walk basically the round-trip distance on the treadmill, I justified it with “I might need to go to Family Dollar to buy something bulky on the way home.” Kind of embarrassing.

A half hour after arriving home, the gray sky had been exchanged for a pretty pinkish purple palette. I love when I notice the early evening colors.