random thoughts – Day 1,420 – (Monday) – adventure class

A few weeks ago, I saw information about a class I was interested in that was taking place on a night where I could actually attend all the sessions. For bunch of years now, I have forgone several classes I wanted to attend due a monthly commitment that takes place on a Tuesday night. I couldn’t see paying for a program where I would miss one out of every four classes. I don’t have the space for that kind of stress and financial frivolity.

Omelet for supper.

The email was sent and information was received about the location. After a quick supper of a mushroom, onion, and cheese omelet, on the designated day (today) at the appointed time (6:00), I was outside Pawtucketville Congregational Church waiting to be let in for a new adventure. 

There were a few us gathered, verifying the doors were indeed locked and that we weren’t standing in the cold for no good reason. I had checked the door that was up a flight of stone stairs. On the way down, I was allowing my feet to move independently of my eyes and not watching my feet or the steps. The details are fuzzy, but it suddenly felt like I stepped off a ledge and crash landed hard on a knee on the stone landing. In front of five or six people I had not met before.

Oops. Talk about making a graceful and memorable first impression. It seems I should have worried less about the sweater I was wearing while dressing and put on my roller derby knee pads instead.

Right after my accidental daredevil acrobatic stunt, one of the instructors arrived and let us all in to the building. As we got settled on a pew in the function hall for a couple minutes, one of the women who witnessed my moment of gracefulness asked if I was okay. The pantleg looked okay, but as I answered, “yeah, I’m good,” it was hiked up to expose my knee which turned out to be scuffed and bloody. Holy crap. At least my pants were okay, and a few minutes later, it was time for class to begin. The session is full, with about 25 of us in the class. For the next five weeks, we are going to learn salsa dancing. 

We began with counting one-two-three, five six seven (four and eight have pauses) and listening for the count in the music. It was hard to understand everything the instructor said as he explained salsa styles, but I think he said we were learning Puerto Rican style. He definitely said that we “start on the one” and that other styles start on the two.

In just under an hour, we worked on front step, back step, side step, basic step, right turn, and left turn. The left turn was the hardest. All of it was fun. I totally forgot about my bloodied knee.

A closer examination at home revealed that the left knee also got a bit of scuff. But it’s all good. No worries.

For those keeping score, Sunday evening, a jar of salsa kicked my ass. Monday evening, I kicked my own ass on my way to a salsa class. It seems that somehow salsa mishaps rule and I probably need to be a little more careful.

random thoughts – Day 1,419 – (Sunday) – kitchen mishap

After dance class there was a visit to Ocean State Job Lot. It had been months since the last visit, mostly because there isn’t one in Lowell, and the one in Leominster is close enough to the exit to Route 2 that when I think I might stop there, I usually decide to just head directly home instead.

After seeing recent emails and ads for some sort of promotion where you get a gift card worth 40% of a purchase over $30, today I stopped in to look around. A cart seemed  unnecessary as I was mostly browsing. Soon I had a pack of small art canvasses, some acrylic paint, Echinacea tea, and two soup bowls close to the shape I search for in very store I have set foot in for the past several years. Mathematics indicated that the total was nowhere near the $40 threshold for the gift card. The checkout line was long, so the browsing continued to the back of the store and the rugs.

Runner in the kitchen.

Two runners in colors that looked like they would work in the kitchen were found, which set the total into gift card territory and a $16 gift card was received at checkout. Once home, the grayish-purplish color in the runner proved to be a great match to the wall color, and the runners were unfurled onto the floor, tags still attached during the initial deliberation period. One covered the stretch leading to the refrigerator, and the other along the sink and prep counter area. After deciding they looked OK, I went to the living room and Netflix (The Hookup Plan).

An hour later, it was realized there had been no breakfast or lunch eaten. Cabbage, broccoli, carrots, and onions were chopped for a soup. After deciding the veggies and a container of broth from the freezer would benefit from tomatoes, the pantry cupboard was ravaged in search of diced tomatoes. There were none. The kitchen manager is really failing in the stocking of staples. A 24-ounce jar of mild salsa was found. 

The jar was large enough to be hard to grasp and the lid is too large for my hand. The lid wasn’t budging. The two rubbery jar grippy things were retrieved from the drawer, but the lid didn’t loosen. The lid of the jar was tapped on the counter and still wouldn’t budge. It was tapped again. And again. An angry letter along the lines of "Dear asswipes, why are so many jars and lids too large for normal sized hands? Do I now need to start checking lid sizes in the store?" And so on. It is unlikely any such letter will actually be composed.

Salsa mishap.

Suddenly, there was a mound of salsa on the counter. That last rap of the lid on the counter, propelled by the passion of the mental letter writing, had traveled through the jar and the bottom of the jar was missing. The lid was still attached to the neck of the jar. the science of it all is unclear, but there was no mistaking the mess. Luckily, the salsa was thick and mostly stayed put in a heap.

The new runner, with the tags still attached, had several splotches of airborne salsa on it. Of course it did. Also, the bottom of my pant leg and my left sleeve from hem to elbow. 

There was a big cleanup of the counter and rug, after which there was no longer interest in eating cabbage soup for supper. There was a moment of sulking before leftover French fries from Saturday’s supper were heated in the toaster oven. Later, laundry was started with a big dose of laundry pre-treatment spray to clean the jeans and fleece top of the salsa.

It’s been a while since a messy kitchen mishap and apparently, it was time. But damn, why did it have to be the big jar of salsa?

random thoughts – Day 1,418 – (Saturday) – the sun

Welcome back sun splotch.

The sun was out today. It appeared through the kitchen window in the morning and as it rose higher, it cast a rectangular patch of sunshine reaching from the kitchen towards the dining room floor. When Winston was alive, he would follow the sun spots around the house and nap in the patches. Even when he had lost his vision, he managed to find the warm sunny spots. 

The sun may have been shining, but it was still cold out. The runner in the bathroom had a couple grungy spots because I often wear shoes in the house, and needed washing. 

In a dry snow, the rugs can be covered with snow and swept clean. In warm weather, they are often laid out in the driveway and cleaned with the hose, dish soap,  and a plastic scrub brush, then draped over the deck rail to dry. 

Bathtub rug cleaning.

The January snow has mostly all melted and sits in dirty patches around the yard, unsuitable for rug cleaning. On a 30-something degree day, there was no way I was going to try hosing it down. The next best timely solution to the dirty rug situation was the bathtub. It will probably take a week to dry. 

During the afternoon, the magic yellow ball blazed in a cloudless sky. Sunglasses would have been helpful during a brief trip across the river, but I had forgotten them. Later in the day, it shone through the sheer drapes that cover the sliders, hitting me in the eyes as I sat in the adjoining living room. It was glorious. It was about time.

Late day sun.

The other day I heard that there were only seven days with Sunshine in the entire month of January. Talk about depressing. I couldn’t find a news story to back it up, so right now it’s hearsay and not admissible in a court of law, but it definitely fits how I remember the longest, grayest, and most dreadful month in forever. 

The rain, the snow, the perpetual cloud cover, scarcity of sunshine, and the steady flow of flood alerts explain the widespread epidemic of sour moods and discontent that had spread throughout the land. Maybe the return of the sun will help us all bust out of the funk. Today's blue sky and sunshine was a great start. 

random thoughts – Day 1,417 – (Friday) – vacation day too

It was another scheduled vacation day, but this one lacked even a whisper of a plan. It seems I will never learn.

On a roll...

There was mild sleeping late (7:30). Coffee and all the too-familiar morning rituals – news, email, Wordle, Words with Friends, and Duolingo, where I hit Day 1300 on my streak after completing a Spanish lesson. The cell phone battery was depleted to 23%, though it had started the day full.

There was a rare weekday visit to the gym, which was moderately busy at 11:00, but there was an available treadmill followed 35 minutes later by the massage chair and then a shower at home. As usual, the only conversation/human interaction was when the desk clerk said, "Number Two" to tell me which chair to use after my on-screen sign-up, scan of my app code, and confirmation of the reservation. It's not really the kind of place where people chat. Not with me, anyway.

Suddenly, it was 3:00. On a working day, the thought would be, “ugh, still two more hours until it’s done.” On a vacation day, the same time on the clock elicits “crap, where did the frigging day go?”. Although the ideas had flickered earlier, there was no drive to the beach. No visit to a store or a coffee shop. The house wasn’t magically tidied. Artworks were not created. Puzzles weren’t assembled. It was like I had spaced out for three or four hours.

Activities that proved I’m not completely brain dead all of the time included emptying the dishwasher and looking at the available pets on the Humane Society website. And there was supper.

Winter veggie supper.

The winter vegetable medley of Brussels sprouts, broccoli, mushrooms, onion, carrots, garlic, and ginger were sautéed in butter and olive oil, then tossed with soy sauce, rice vinegar, and sesame oil. It was finished with plain ramen noodles tossed with Korean hot pepper paste. So yummy. The ramen increased the textural interest, but probably lowered the health level. Whatever. It’s definitely better than Thursday’s supper of the remaining half of the family-sized bag of barbecue chips. 

random thoughts – Day 1,416 – (Thursday) –vacation day

Initial booth setup,
with room for more.

Today’s vacation day was spent with Mom and Sis. There was a task involved, in which we set up Mom’s newly rented space in an antiques co-op. She was on the wait list for ages – one, two, a million years. Whatever it was, it was a long time. We got a few things set up, which didn’t take very long and was kind of fun. There is still space for a lot more, which is a good thing, because between the three of us, we have way too much stuff. Entire rooms full.

After the fun, we got pizza for lunch at my sister’s house. I’m pretty sure I’ve never met a pizza I didn’t like, and today was no different. I was fun sitting around chatting, except when we accidentally veered into politics, but we all agree that both of the likely presidential candidates are too old and it is way past the time for term limits.

There was a quick stop at Big Lots for the usual items – makeup remover wipes and random food products. Today's groceries were crackers and the olive oil I forgot to get at Market Basket the other day.

Most of the drive home was unremarkable, which is the best kind of drive. It was annoying in Lowell, but that is nothing unusual. The new traffic patterns around the new courthouse seem to be confusing people. Or maybe they are just strategically rude with making turns from the wrong lanes and cutting people off.

Christoforos Papakaliatis.

Back at The BungaLowell, the rest of the afternoon was spent finishing Maestro in Blue, a Greek series on Netflix. It stars (and was also written and directed by) my new imaginary boyfriend/small screen crush  Christoforos Papakaliatis, who plays a music teacher brought to a small town to organize a music festival. Much drama ensues. There is also some good music. 

random thoughts – Day 1,415 – (Wednesday) – booking it

And just like that, January is over. Although, we weren’t really that lucky, and it wasn’t done just like that. It was a month that felt about as long as a year, until the last couple days when it oddly and suddenly felt like it had flown by. So weird.

At work, we have launched from busy into busier. Those are the only two speeds we seem to operate at. The length of the to-do list at my desk seems to double daily and today I was hustling. Spreadsheets, word documents, ad copy, layout PDFs, edits, website article review and posting, emails, meetings. Oy. It was both exhausting and exhilarating. And a little bit stressful.

February and March book club.

There was a quick break with a walk out in the brisk air to LaLa Books to pick up the March book club book that arrived (How to Build a Boat, by Elaine Feeney). I’m halfway through the February book (No Land to Light On, by Yara Zgheib) for the meeting next week. It’s beautifully written, but I can read it only in small doses because it’s about a tough situation. It’s set in Boston and Syria, during the time of the January 27, 2017 “Executive Order 13769 Protecting the Nation from Foreign Terrorist Entry into The United States.” It’s a little weird reading about things date-stamped seven years earlier than the same date I’m reading them. 

I wish I could take a month off to just hole up and read. It miss the summers when I was a kid – days flung on the couch with my head deep in a book. I would raid the bookcases, hijack Mom's Book of the Month Club arrivals, and supplement it all with library books. I can’t wait to retire so I can lay around and read all day, every day.

random thoughts – Day 1,414 – (Tuesday) – american dream

In the late 80s and early 90s there was a song by The Godfathers that I liked called, “Birth, School, Work, Death.” I haven’t thought about this song for ages, but lately, the title phrase has been randomly popping into my head and rattling around. Over and over and over.

But hey, it’s the American Dream, right? Birth, school, work, death. And in the cracks between, there are the less dreamy bills, laundry, grocery shopping, and home maintenance.

Tonight, after work-work, after supper, I vacuumed. Super fun housework. No, really.

I was chilly most of the day despite wearing a fleece pullover and a hat and I figured the activity would warm me up. Or the aggravation as the cord is driven over and the vacuum eats the area rugs. Whether from activity or aggravation, either way, I would be less cold and that would be a win.

Potential source of injury?

The most exciting part of any vacuuming adventure is lugging the awkward and slightly heavy vacuum up and down the stairs while trying to avoid a fall or injury. The last thing I need or want is an accident caused by a vacuum cleaner, but more than a few times, there has been the imagined vision of myself in a crumpled heap at the bottom of the stairs, trapped under the Bissel Power Clean Swivel Rewind Pet machine, bought when there were pets.

While vacuuming upstairs, as the four words “Birth, School, Work, Death” danced around the edges, a less musical memory entered my head. It was from the college days. I was dating a guy whose brother was a lawyer, and I was helping him clean the brother’s law office after hours. Vacuuming the carpeting came with very specific instructions to back out of the room while vacuuming so there would be no footprints or vacuum tracks left in the wall-to-wall carpeting.

It seemed a bit neurotic and nit-picky at the time, but that is pretty much how I’ve vacuumed carpeting ever since.  It looks nice and fresh until it’s walked on, which happens in my bedroom when I have to get to the outlet in the closet to unplug the vacuum.  It’s a lovely five seconds of pristine carpet fiber. Another sliver of the American Dream.