Sometimes, little incidents can play with the human mind.
This week has not been easy, but we all have days or periods of time where the universe doesn’t feel right.
I’ve been having an issue lately with my necklaces. And amid some changes in routine, some struggles at work and a lack of being able to “nail” exactly what is wrong with my body and how to fix it… life often feels harder than it needs to be.
I have a really beautiful necklace with my birthstone that a friend gave me, but the clasp bent thanks to a tug from my Goffin’s cockatoo. I bought a whole bunch of consignment necklaces from our favorite store, The Attic, in Bethlehem. I wore them so much some of them broke on their own and others became fodder for the beak of the cockatoo.
I ordered a Taurus necklace from Dolls Kill and it never arrived. I ordered some other cheap necklaces and liked some perhaps more than others.
Most of my favorites are in some sort of disrepair right now.
So I ordered another necklace from Dolls Kill, this one from the clearance section, and I loved it. Thin gold and silver alternating circles.
But I put it on before taking the dog for a walk and it fell off. I didn’t notice until I got home.
The next day, teenager #2 said she might have seen it in the street.
I found it in the middle of the intersection in front of our house, smashed to bits.
I’m getting discouraged on this cusp of winter/spring that maybe I shall never wear anything nice again. I work in a warehouse, gained 20 pounds thanks to the stress eating associated with my last job, and with all the fear and guidelines associated with Coronavirus… I wonder if I will ever enjoy something pretty again.
The pretty things bring sparkle to an otherwise dull day.
I don’t know what’s the better feeling— taking off your socks and shoes after being on your feet all night or removing your bra.
I’m in pain tonight, numerically probably only a six, but the discomfort is debilitating. That does quite make sense to me. I’ve hurt more but felt less uncomfortable.
It’s almost 1 a.m. My S1 joint has been giving me trouble all night so all of those muscles are on fire. I poured the last of the Pink Whitney vodka as I ponder my other aches and pains—my right knee, a pulsing pain in the ankle I broke six years ago. The angle I am sitting at right now hurts. But Fog is curled up against me and I don’t want to move.
But I did walk the dog. That felt good. Stretching all those sore parts.
The dog— her name is Freja but Teenager #1 wants to change in to Bean. I suggested F. Bean Barker. She’s doing well. Went to the bathroom outside for us today and less accidents in the house.
Speaking of accidents, I packed up the homemade ham broth and kept pouring long after the container was full. That made a mess.
Then I tried to fry some eggs and started a small grease fire. I extinguished it, but not before teen #1 yelled, “Mom? Is everything okay? I just saw flames everywhere.”
But back to the Bizzy Hizzy at Stitch Fix. I had a “talk back” meeting with some of my leaders. Again, explaining that QC hurts. Talk of doing 4 hours in QC and 4 hours in pick when they roll out split work centers.
And they want me to hit 130 QC fixes. That’s 3 minutes per fix. Tonight, between meetings and pain I only did 91. I did 104 last night. That is 3.63 minutes per fix. Tonight I ended around 3.8.
In better news, my MacBook Air came. Tomorrow I hopefully can do my local taxes (state and federal are done and filed) and work on Finding Hooyo, the Romance/War/Medical novel I would like to be the second book published by Parisian Phoenix Publishing. Manipulations, the first novel for our little imprint and the first novel of the paranormal/romance/chick lit Fashion and Fiends series should be in design now.
If you want to see me unbox the new Mac, the video is here: Unboxing
Freja is the six-month-old puppy of teenager #2’s dog. Or something thereabouts. Last night, the teens went to visit teenager #2’s mom and somehow we got Freja. A week trial.
Meanwhile, Mama Wink has shown me not one more baby as I suspected but two.
I’m going to contact the bird people and see if they have anyone that wants baby budgies.
Kittens, like small children, can get into everything. And while cats, at least most of them, are extremely intelligent and practical creatures, their attraction to climbing, exploring and getting into small spaces can get them into serious trouble.
I like to tell the story of how Oz, the second dumbest cat I have ever owned, used to get his head stuck in every shopping bag or item with a handle he found. And then he would run around the house like the Tasmanian Devil.
This morning, I had a scary experience with my almost seven-month old fosters, The Roman Pride. They are part of the rescue efforts of volunteer nonprofit group, Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab.
Teenager #1 spent the night with her dad. Teenager #2 got up early, fed the household cats and mastered the art of an over-easy egg. I apparently had fallen into a deep, cozy sleep and after several days of getting six hours of sleep, I slept from 11 p.m. to 10 a.m.
I headed to Teenager #’s bedroom after a breakfast of two eggs on a crumpet and a cup of tea, prepared by Teenager #2, and immediately knew something was wrong.
The room looked like this:
And the kittens looked like this:
And my mom instincts immediately were on alert. Headcount… 1… 2… 3… 4…
Where is Mars?
I text Teenager #1 the photos to warn her. I open the wet cat food, which isn’t necessary as they have a self-feeder.
Everyone congregates at the food bowl. Except Mars.
Teenager #1 suggests he got into the closet. That she’ll check when she gets home. But I am unsettled. Other moms will understand. I text Teenager #2 the photos. Teenager #2 comments. And I mention I can’t find Mars. She joins me. And she finds Mars lying docile in a corner.
Now, between Mars and Vesta— the two who did a residency at our local Petco— one of them has loose stools and has peed on Teenager #1’s blankets. We are starting a protocol today to decipher who needs to go to the vet. But meanwhile, I am looking for clues.
Vesta has been a little lethargic lately. Mars is the spunky one, who, often panics when being handled. He bit one of the other volunteers which is why they came home. And he’s not usually prone to biting. I wouldn’t have sent him out to Petco if that were the case. So now he’s missing. Maybe he is the sick one.
When teenager #2 tries to handle him, he doesn’t fight but he doesn’t cooperate either. He sticks his claws in the nearby cat tree. But we found him. So I relax. And teenager #2 leaves. But he’s still not joining the others for food. I open one of the coveted squeeze-up treats. Still, he stays put.
My gut says something is wrong.
Teenager #1, in her second year of wood shop, deconstructed her bunk bed and made it into a loft. On one end of what used to be the lower bunk is a bookshelf and a seat that hides a storage box.
The other side is a cat tree and some cat beds of various types.
Mars is under the cat tree in a cat bed. Between the seat and the cat area, the new soft sided carrier I got for Christmas is on the floor, open. I reach for Mars. He doesn’t move. I pull him up to my lap, the cat carrier bangs into my legs and prevents me from getting him to the destination.
Quickly, with the cat in one hand, my hand supporting his belly, I put it all together. I grab the carrier with my other hand.
I pull everything into my lap. Now this cat is silent and limp. Remember— he’s the spunky one. This is very wrong.
My fear is legitimized. Mars has somehow crawled through the handle of the soft-sided cat carrier and gotten it twisted tightly into a knot around his hips. He has soiled himself— his back legs are wet. And if you know cats, you know they will go to great lengths not to soil themselves.
Do you know that moment in any bad situation where you have to chose between calm and panic? I am thinking about all the ways poor Mars could be hurt and trying not to panic. I need to free him. I’m trying not to think about how long he has been trapped like that.
I have to swirl the bag in one hand over poor Mars to untwist the knot against his belly, again and again. I call for teen #2, verbally as I have no hands left to grab my phone and text her. She runs in. I free him. She gets more wet food. He gently jumps free of me and goes to the bowl.
A few moments later he jumps up to the water bowl and drinks slowly for a good five minutes.
And when he is done, I hug him. He doesn’t fight me. I take the carrier into the hall. Now, if you excuse me— Mars needs another hug.
Tonight my neighbor (Little Dog’s mom) and I went on an impromptu dinner date and she even suggested going to one of my favorite spots— Three Mugs Pub.
I had a Yuengling and the mother clucker sandwich— very crispy and a mix of spicy, tangy and garlicky. My neighbor said she should be rolling the camera, so to speak, for one of my food review videos.
It felt good to laugh.
In a rather impulsive move, I visited the Apple.com site and looked at refurbished MacBook Airs. I ordered the $800 2020 13” in gold. I haven’t had my own computer for about three years, relying instead on an iPad Pro I bought used from Gayle.
The keyboard and the stylus on the iPad doesn’t work anymore. I don’t know if the keyboard died, or Nala broke it, or it merely needs to be cleaned.
In the spring I bought a refurbished HP laptop but hated working on a PC. It was a purchase of necessity as my boss at my previous job demanded I purchase my own PC to work at home during the pandemic.
I sold it to a friend when that job ended.
So if I really plan to start writing again and publishing, I need a computer.
Today started with a groggy Angel that for the second day in a row got less than six hours sleep. I headed off to my amazing chiropractor, Nicole Jensen, to report that despite the grueling work week somehow I was not in pain.
And she indeed found that my body was moving well and that my main issue was stiffness in my mid-to-upper spine consistent with all the snow shoveling needed in the last few weeks. She also asked about my neck as I store all my stress in my neck and shoulders.
After getting a great adjustment and convincing a staff member there that her mother did not want a large bird that talks, I came home and unsuccessfully tried to nap. One of my favorite Sarah’s convinced me to get another Dunkin Cold Foam Cold Brew which I review in this YouTube video: Vanilla Cold Brew with Cold Foam
I texted her to thank her for the advice as it was dead on. And somehow I QCed 105– yes one hundred and five— fixes which is more than the required metric of 104. I finally did it. A mere three-plus hours before the full moon.
It was a successful night at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy.
Teenager #1 waited up as a bonding exercise before the full moon. Today in addition to chores and school work, she replaced the screen in her bedroom window and embroidered her face masks for work.
Here are some other contemplations and updates at 2:15 a.m.:
I am itching to write fiction again. My friend Gayle has agreed to be my book designer should I decide to publish my books. Gayle and I once had the dream of our own publishing imprint, Parisian Phoenix Publishing.
My mortgage refinance is scheduled to close next Saturday. The refi will save me $300 a month, pay off my car, and leave me with several thousand extra dollars. I am dropping from 3.25 to 2.85% interest and adding five years into my mortgage. But it will also drop my actual mortgage to be less than the current 50% of my net pay. My hope is that when things “look better,” I can pay down the principal.
So the extra money— do I:
Buy myself a computer and put the rest in savings. It’s been about 3 years since I had a computer and I’m an Apple girl so it’s an investment. Adding the rest to savings would give me about 5-6 months income in the bank as an emergency fund.
Put it all in savings to see what happens in the economy next.
Use it to buy the computer and pay teenager #1’s car insurance should she pass her exam March 9. The bill will be $1500 for 6 months. Mine is $488.
Use it and other savings I have to pay down $5,000 on the new loan’s principal.
A few weeks ago one of my former colleagues from Target (Jessica? Jackie?) posted the upcoming new menu items from Dunkin’— on the list was avocado toast.
Now, I received a push notification that avocado toast and cold brew with cold foam had arrived so Teenager #1 and I took our showers and headed out.
Coincidentally, we both decided to wear dresses which might be due to the warm weather (40-something and sunny!). She wore her Karl Lagerfeld Ready to Wear dress that I bought her for Christmas from the Stitch Fix employee store.
If you want to be spared reading, here is our vlog review of our Dunkin trip: Review of New Dunkin items.
We ordered:
Chocolate Stout Cold Foam Cold Brew
Grilled Cheese Melt
Avocado Toast
We loved the avocado toast and ordered a second piece. But let me give my impressions…
Avocado Toast: $3. Very rich with avocado and lemon; the everything bagel seasoning is a very nice accent.
Chocolate Stout Cold Brew: Medium was $4. Was supposed to be $3 on the app but the promotion didn’t work. I had mine with cream because chocolate coffees tend to be too bitter for me. I liked it, and the teens liked it, too. In the future I would ask for less syrup.
Grilled Cheese: $4. Good. But pricey for what it is. They don’t toast the outside of the bread so the sourdough isn’t crispy. But Dunkin’s sourdough is delicious so that makes up for it.
We were supposed to get one to three inches of snow.
This is not three inches
I’m 90% sure Mama Periwinkle hatched another baby. Video: Sound of baby budgie. Anyone want a parakeet?
I managed to get to work on time, and ended up in QC again. QC hurts. But I didn’t take any meds and decided to see how it goes. Hit 24 by first break, pain level was only a 2. By meal, the pain was at 4 and I was slowing down. By last break, I was at 69 and it should have been 78.
One of my superiors came over after that break and said I was doing great and that my efforts and progress were not unnoticed. I spoke honestly, and this particular person also has a disability that hinders his mobility. And he said it might be possible to split my shift between QC and pick. That would be amazing.
By the end of the night, I hit the same number I did last week— 91— but I almost broke under four minutes per fix. And I got a cool mask….
So now my pain is about a six. Last week I felt really bad after hitting 91, my body hurt.
My dad helped me… no he did it… my dad got a really disgusting clog out of the vacuum cleaner last night. And then we (with my stepmom) went to Tic Toc Diner to harass teenager #1 at her first official job as a waitress. The young man assigned to our table recognized me and asked if we wanted her to serve us, and I said that wasn’t necessary we were happy observing her from afar. But he gave her the table anyway.
That’s my baby, and she was buzzing around looking very focused. There is a strange heartwarming and heartbreaking feeling when you see your baby becoming independent.
Earlier that day, Vesta and Minerva went to the adoption event at Petsmart. But no one inquired about these Roman Pride babies. I brought them home to Hermes.
Teenager #1 is with her dad right now, so I spent some time working with our foster kittens from Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab. I’m going to post some videos from today to show progress.
Hermes is afraid of human hands. And Mars— oh spunky Mars— bit one of our fellow FURR volunteers when she tried to move him from the habitat at the Petco in Easton to the one in the Phillipsburg area.
Meanwhile, I decided I had to let go of my fear of harm coming to the parakeets. I opted to let them free fly for the first time since Boo-Boo’s death (see Farewell Boo for details). And it was the first time for the babies. My room is oddly silent right now because all SIX birds, including Nala the Goffin (who turned five this week), are sleeping. The budgies flew so hard!
This won’t be the most game exciting post, but as a foster parent for feral kittens and a long-time cat mama, I’ve seen and experienced a lot of development in the cat litter arena.
I thought I’d share the cat litter we stock in this house in case it would help anyone else.
In our main living area boxes we use So Phresh from Petco, on repeat delivery. It’s nothing fancy but the price is very reasonable and it ships to the door. Plus, the plastic buckets are reusable and the kitty on the bucket looks like our Fog. I apologize to the UPS man every time we get a delivery. We fill our four cat boxes downstairs with this litter (one on the sun porch, one in the dining room, two in the bathroom).
Even though the fosters receive donations from the supporters of Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab, because we currently have five cats in teenager #1’s bedroom, we order Arm & Hammer’s Clump N Seal from Chewy.com. This is my favorite clay litter, but it is pricy so I can’t justify buying it for every box. But it really does seal in odor and isn’t dusty. So for the two boxes in the teen’s room, Arm & Hammer it is.
Both of these litters are fairly scent-free because I know cats have sensitive noses and I do, too.
Now there are occasions when we use Yesterday’s News and Feline Pine. Yesterday’s News is a pellet litter made from recycled newspapers. It dissolves when urinated on, but does not clump with poop. Same is true with Feline Pine. With both, you can scoop out the poo and shake the box and the box refreshes in a way. I like that the pellet litters are easy to clean up when they get kicked out of the box. Yesterday’s News is very clean and scentless— so when a cat is recovering from surgery or illness it’s a safe choice. I also use it in the tray of the bird cages.
But I like the pine smell of the Feline Pine when the cat uses the box, so I keep a tiny litter box in my room with that litter. It’s small because with the birds, cats aren’t typically in my room.
Teen #2 has two boxes for her two cats in her room, and I suggested she use one pellet and one clay litter so her cats have a choice.
Our foster cat godmother from Feline Urban Rescue and Rehab recently traded in her traditional cat boxes for a horse trough. That is a brilliant idea!
Angel Ackerman 