State of the Neighborhood Address

The neighborhood has been quiet today, it’s rainy and dark. I live in half a double and I haven’t heard a peep out of the other side of my house.

It’s too wet to walk dogs. The guy who randomly rides up and down the street on a lawnmower is no where to be found.

Everyone’s cars are here, but everyone’s house is dark.

One house up the street has removed a tree that I remember them planting 10 years ago.

And the neighbor flipping our deceased octogenarian’s house has removed her metal louvered screen door and painted the main door white when it was always brown.

I was bitterly disappointed when CVS never texted that my prescription was ready. I called them to see if I could order it and the automated system told me no. I don’t need it yet, was just looking forward to the outing.

So, the teenager got out a Nicholas Cage movie— last week she got out Gone in 60 Seconds because I love cars. I love cars. Today she picked The Family Man because she didn’t remember it and I love chick flick comedy.

Quarantine good times

And we ate blueberry bagels with nut butter and banana (mine was almond butter, hers was extra crunchy peanut butter) and when she popped her bagel out of the toaster muttering “oo ee, that’s hot!” we spontaneously burst into a few rounds of The Witch Doctor.

Here’s a ShaNaNa skit: Sha Na Na ~ The Witch Doctor

Then CVS texted that my prescription was ready after all! So the teenager and I grabbed my 25% off coupon and headed to the pharmacy for a nice afternoon walk.

The prescription was $4, and the plumber was ahead of us in line. We made our way to the front of the store, and I told my blind friend Nan that I would look for hand soap in case she needed it. And since I had that coupon I wanted to get sleep aid, for those occasionally bouts of insomnia. So I “treated” myself to the 500 count bottle.

Got Nan’s soap. And was amazed at the aisles and aisles of Easter Candy still remaining— and they had only reduced it to 50% off. The Dollar Store had 75% off.

But we got cheap jelly beans and the teenager asked for “Robin’s Eggs” malt balls. And a gallon of Arizona iced tea. And I picked out bottled Starbucks drinks. And asked her to grab a bag of chips.

That’s what this blurry picture is—most of our “haul.”

When did these outings become so exciting? When did I start thinking strategically about every aisle and item and outing?

Interesting times, indeed.

We have a jumper! (This post jumps around)

I’ve been allowing myself to sleep in a bit and these days I’m waking up between 6:15 and 6:30. I lay in bed sometimes until almost 7, but I’m always dressed, with pants and everything, and at my desk with a hot cup of coffee by 8:30.

I’ve enjoyed sharing an office with my birds— three budgies and a Goffin’s cockatoo—all of whom must be enjoying the electronic swing I listen to at my desk and the bird playground I have assembled for them.

Yes, that’s the teenager’s kitten who refused to get out of the cockatoo’s cage.

Now, when Nala the cockatoo destroys toys I save the salvageable pieces and put them in these spare dishes and she plays with them and throws them at the cats.

I think I have some new toys coming for the parakeets, and I also need to order them more ladders and perches because they have suddenly destroyed everything in their cage.

Work passed easily, I feel like I was quite organized and productive. And I’m off tomorrow. I took an unplanned paid time off to take care of some health issues. So it will be part trip to the pharmacy, part virtual doctor visit and part mental health day.

There’s a contact we have at work at a local company that is the point person for a rather large food drive that benefits our agency. Because of the state lockdown, they can’t host this food drive so the employees contributed cash instead, but she didn’t want to mail it and our offices are closed.

So the teenager and I took a road trip. It’s strange when a 25-mile round trip to the next town and back feels like a major outing. I donned my mask, put on my gloves and we exchanged an envelope of cash in the parking lot.

That might be the closest I will ever come to feeling like a drug dealer. Nope, scratch that. I’ve driven around with a trunk full of Girl Scout cookies.

My teenager and I have the best conversations while in the car. We talked a lot about financial responsibility and budgeting and how important it will be for her to determine her own style of fiscal management. She admires my discipline, chicanery and creativity with making my money work for me.

I taught her about different ways to trick yourself into putting money into savings. The first of course is to set up automatic transfers. Another is to have a portion of your paycheck direct deposited into savings.

The easiest is to always, as soon as you take a new job, decide on a number of how much goes into retirement if your job offers a retirement plan. That way before you even see how much your take home pay is, the money goes into your future.

And if your job doesn’t have retirement options, go to your bank and contribute to an IRA. Every year. Because money saved when you are young goes far.

That motivated me to go ahead and take the plunge and use that last $1,000 of my stimulus check that I had put into savings and use it to prepay for 400 gallons of fuel oil for next winter’s heat at $2.199.

That was painful. But at least it’s over. Next I need to contact the dentist about the $859 bill they sent me for my crown. My insurance company didn’t cover anything but $17. I’m annoyed because the dentist thought they’d pay 50%, the tooth still isn’t right AND the bill they sent didn’t include the credit for the $394 I already paid.

But paying for the fuel oil was enough adulting for today.

The teenager made an amazing steak dinner.

And Nala loves onion rings.

The teenager discovered, because I sent her an Instagram post, that The Attic thrift store has an online sale and bid on a red dress. That she won.

I love the ingenuity our local small businesses are showing. I hope it continues after the lockdown ends.

Go follow AtticClothes

Last but certainly not least, I tried this Cascara tea which is supposedly full of antioxidants and it tasted really good.

Furniture rearranging update

My daughter approved of my home office. She suggested I keep the set-up as it is “cute.”

Oz seemed to approve, but he soon moved to go cuddle in the teenager’s bed.

Oz the King

So, I asked the teen, what do I do with my window bench?

Fog was sound asleep on the bench

So I suggested giving it a home in the living room.

Fortunately, the cats like the bench there too. That’s 3-legged Opie in the photo.

Meanwhile, in my office…

Hatched at 7 a.m.: a new office and soothing a depressed cat

Everything I have every read about emotional health has very stringent ideas about the bedroom— it is for sleeping and intimacy. No work, no screens, etc.

But this morning at 7 a.m., I decided to try and carve a home office space in my bedroom.

In part, because our 9-year-old cat, Oz, either has urinary crystals again and doesn’t feel well or he’s depressed that we’re all home but never paying attention to him. And he’s jealous of the kittens.

Oz sitting on Misty to steal attention from the teenager

The weather has been 50 degrees and windy, so my brick house is retaining winter cold which makes the dining room table a frigid workspace.

In the beginning, I worked at the dining room table, we ate at the kitchen table and things seemed fine.

But now, the teen took a desk and kitchen chair to her room to do schoolwork and so I’d like to have the dining room table clear to eat.

My room is my sanctuary. Home of the birds. Promised land for the cats. Bright. Sunny. Warm.

I’m going to try it.

Oz is the cat in the first and last photo. Opie is the big cat in the middle. Misty is the kitten. They are all— Fog, too, but she’s unpictured— over me. Let’s hope it’s the newness because otherwise I may have to throw some of them out and close the door.

Update: 8:30 a.m., starting work:

My daughter wants her adenoids back

My daughter rarely gets sick. Every illness she’s ever had pretty much manifests as an ear infection. Or two ear infections.

This started when she was two — and only stopped during the couple years after she had ear tubes in first grade.

The poor child inherited my seasonal allergies and her father’s bad sinuses.

Her head is constantly full of fluid and her ears are always clogged.

And for about the last five years she has gotten ear infections twice a year, every time summer switches to fall and every time winter melts into spring.

So I took her back to the ENT practice that put in her last set of ear tubes. The doctor didn’t want to put them in because at her age, and with only two ear infections a year, she wasn’t a candidate.

I mentioned the fluid in her head.

We scheduled the surgery for Nov. 8.

The doctor also advised removing her adenoids.

The surgery was a success and my kid was hysterical when she came out of anesthesia.

But an unexpected thing happened.

She experienced a thing called a runny nose. In the past, the congestion was in her head and wouldn’t come out her nose.

She’s struggled with learning the appropriate technique for blowing her nose. And she literally asked me how to do it. That’s not something I ever had to explain.

But then she told me the funniest thing— air was rushing up her nose and down her throat. That going outside in the cold winter air sent that frigid air in her nose and down her throat. And she didn’t like it.

She said she wanted the surgery reversed. She wondered if she could get adenoids reconstruction surgery because she doesn’t like having a nose that works.

A challenge for my readers

I keep a list of potential blog topics on my phone. That way if I feel like writing and don’t have an idea— there is one waiting.

But I’ve had a bad stomach ache for a while (I blame the food choices I’ve made over the last 24 hours) and I just don’t have the motivation to write.

For dinner last night I had half a medium pizza from Dominos (spinach feta), with Cheezy Jalapeño sauce from Little Caesars, half an order of BBQ bacon wrapped specialty chicken, half an order of Parmesan bread bites, Sweettart jelly beans, Yuengling, and Diet Coke. (While watching Hoarders.)

I had chocolate coconut cookies and peanut butter eggs for breakfast and the remaining half of the pizza smothered in crushed red peppers for lunch. And dessert was several handfuls of Tums and have a bag of generic jelly beans.

And several cups of coffee.

I have my first official library board meeting tonight, of my official library comeback tour, via Zoom but first a challenge…

First person to suggest a topic in the comments— I will write it.

You can take an idea from my list OR suggest your own.

Some of my ideas:

  • Anything related to Tarot
  • My parenting philosophy regarding teens and behaviors like drugs & sex
  • Eminem
  • My daughter’s observations after having her adenoids removed (hint: she “regrets” the surgery)
  • Cute cards with cats
  • Cats vs dogs
  • My stuffed animals
  • an overarching review of Gordon Ramsay’s television shows

Ready… Get set… GO!

My new floor

So, after the kittens spilled charcoal lighter all over the floor in the mud room last week, the teenager became adamant she was going to lay a real floor in that area.

It’s had only a subfloor since my husband and I bought the house more than 17-years-ago.

Last week, I took her to the independent hardware store to get the supplies (and I also got copies of my house keys, drain clog stuff, a plunger and wasp killer— and when your backroom absorbs an entire bottle of flammable liquid because you have no floor out there, those items all count as necessities).

She worked on it three hours today and actually laid it twice. And now some of our friends keep pointing out that she didn’t stagger the interlocking laminate.

Well, the room didn’t have a floor for 17 years and it has one now.

I’m proud.

She did it all by herself.

Whipped coffee and Facebook connections

The right doses of caffeine and sugar shoot me into the heavens like a rocket ship.

This was the best use of Nescafé instant coffee I ever encountered.

A new acquaintance I met at a Christmas party posted the link on her Facebook page and I bookmarked it.

I decided today was the day.

I was just about to make this when another friend, one who used to be in my writers critique group when the teenager was a small child, called for a long chat. This spirited woman moved away a few or more years ago and as it goes when you’re older than 30, life zips by and five years feels like five minutes and you realize you’ve lost touch with people who meant a lot to you.

This particular person participated in some sort of virtual writing workshop and posted a video of herself reading the opening of her manuscript. I watched the video and remembered this character from our time together and commented how far her voice as an author had come.

That’s how we reconnected.

And if that person wants to share her video, she is welcome to post it in the comments.

PS— I made the recipe as directed but poured *all the servings* of coffee into about 10 ounces of milk. So you may want to be smart and NOT do that. Because my heart is racing.

My green breakfast, beer bribes, and not so good food choices.

I am sipping a matcha latte (a Tazo concentrate and it’s very sweet) and about to enjoy a pistachio muffin.

The last thing I need right now is a 400+ calorie muffin but I went to Weis yesterday because they have beer. And wine. And I like to have beer on hand to “pay” my neighbor when he automatically cuts my front lawn when he cuts his.

When my husband and I bought this house— almost 20 years ago—we intentionally picked one with a small yard. If you’ve read some of my earlier posts, you may have seen my backyard and never even realized how small it is. Just enough for a small garden and a clothesline.

That’s more than half my yard and my huge detached garage—split level

This is the post that photo comes from: Perfect Day from the Home Office

My husband used to cut the grass with a weed wacker. But it died. I used an old 100-year-old manual push mover. The one with the rotating blades. A gift from a friend who once lived in a similar neighborhood.

But my neighbors usually do my front yard. Our front yards are small and I think they figure if you have the lawn mower out might as well keep going.

My neighbor who currently cuts my grass has a habit of opening a cold beer when he’s done. So if I see him cutting grass, I bring him a cold beer. If he does it while I’m not around, I leave a beer on his porch.

So, if I want to continue to foster this good neighbor behavior, I need beer.

At Weis, they have this display right inside the door with preboxed muffins. I go to Weis for three things: pistachio muffins (why are they the only local store with the sense to back them????), their store made fried chicken (which they don’t appear to be making right now), and craft beer mix and match six packs. (The damn store is in a trifecta triangle with my gym, my bank and Dunkin’ Donuts.)

I walk into the store and there it sits— two very troubling decisions. There are two four-packs of muffins that include pistachio.

  1. Do I buy muffins? Oh, so nutritionally void. But delicious.
  2. Do I buy the four pack of pistachio or do I buy the four pack that includes three pistachio and one corn? How did that one corn muffin get in there? Why corn?

I had to buy the one with the corn. Who else would buy such a bizarre combo of muffins? And do the pistachio muffins bully the corn muffin?

I also bought a six pack of Yuengling and a six pack of Brooklyn Brand Sour Raspberry Ale. And a strawberry parfait.

The parfait was amazing. It was a strawberry shortcake with pudding and mountains of whipped cream. I thought it might have yogurt in it but no, it was pudding. I can’t even pretend that was healthy.

Weis Strawberry (Shortcake) Parfait

Throughout the day, I ate an entire bag of Sweettart jelly beans. I’m not disappointed in myself for eating 1300 calories of jelly beans. I’m disappointed in myself for binge eating jelly beans I didn’t even really like.

Yes, jelly beans and a diet A-treat

And then finally for supper, I made spinach feta sausage patties from our local small grocery, butcher and best deli ever Park Avenue Market. More on my shopping trip yesterday here: The Uplifting Side of Pandemic Days. The teenager was mmmmming and smacking her lips.

Meat courtesy Park Avenue Market

The sausage tasted fabulous on the day-old deeply discounted bakery rolls I picked up at Weis.

And the ale was good. The fruity sour taste was a tad off putting at first because I wasn’t quite prepared for it. But it was refreshing and smooth overall.

I have to do better with my eating today.

Sidewards glance you the huge, nutritionally void pistachio muffin next to my latte.

The Uplifting Side of Pandemic Days

There is just something about life in these pandemic times that I find uplifting.

Maybe the sense of nowhere to go or a certain carefreeness that reminds me of being on summer vacation as a teen.

Our grocery trips focus on the present more than ever. I normally only grocery shop once every two weeks but find that now I’m going once a week, buying less and rotating stores.

Today I went to a local small independent grocer, Park Avenue Market, where they are known for their amazing sandwiches and in store meats.

I treated the teenager to her first taste of olive loaf from the deli, slab bacon and their own feta spinach sausage patties. I also bought some stew beef and a small steak.

I discovered, in the middle of the store, with my order and my blind friend’s order, that I did not have my wallet. I found myself staring straight at a local cop and wondering where my wallet at fallen out of the back pocket of my jeans.

I told the teen to keep shopping and went home to look for it— it had fallen out of my pocket when I used the toilet before beginning our journey.

After the market, I took Nan her items and took the teen home before heading to Weis. There I got bananas, muffins, some discounted chicken and frozen vegetables. Half off fresh bakery products that weren’t so fresh any more. Milk, eggs, half and half and two six packs— one of Yuengling and one of a raspberry ale with a name I don’t recall.

We got some other items between the two trips: broccoli and cheese whipped into something akin to mashed potatoes, bread, mini shoo fly pies, A-Treat soda and lord knows what else.

Because suddenly life is shorter and the carbohydrates and sweets provide a taste of celebration.

I ate a vat of spaghetti squash when I arrived home and helped my daughter design a marching band show for her music assignment. Her dream has long been to play Cake’s Short Skirt Long Jacket in band. So she was ecstatic when the web sure her teacher posted had the music.

It was hard to unify songs since we didn’t have enough Cake songs to do a Cake theme. She found a lot of Green Day and thought maybe she should do all Green Day. But I couldn’t let her dream die.

She found the theme from Die Another Day— which I believe is Madonna performing in the James Bond film. I didn’t think mixing a movie theme and alternative would work. And her band director has done a Bond show.

Finally I researched early 2000s alternative rock in a Google search and we decided on Nickelback. Green Day’s Basket Case for the Opener, followed by the Cake song, closed by some Nickelback song that I’ve forgotten already.

So the theme would be alternative rock from the era in which these musicians were born.

And here’s Nala, my Goffin’s cockatoo, rocking out to Green Day.

Nala rocking to Green Day