Tag wawa

Super blue moon mercury retrograde car repairs

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

I bought my 2015 VW Jetta turbo in November of 2019. She had about 25,000 miles on her and I bought her for about $15,000 from my local Kia dealership.

She has been good to me– and even with my occasional road trips I only drive about 8,000 miles a year. And then my daughter’s car died, so for the last year she’s been more or less using my car full-time.

She’s put almost 20,000 miles on it. I used to take her in for service, an oil change and inspection every August and not think about her again until the next year. Not so now. Two oil changes this year. The kid blew one of my new tires hitting a curb.

Yesterday, I arrived at the garage at 8:15 a.m. for my 8:30 appointment. I had a large Panera iced coffee and a clif bar (brownie flavored) and brought one poetry book and my laptop intending to pound out a rough draft of my profiles of Milou Mackenzie and Miriam Sabih.

Which I did.

At 10:30 a.m., I received the video regarding the results from my inspection (all good) and the service coordinator came over to discuss which preventative maintenance would be best before Atlanta.

I knew going in my car needed a daytime running lamp and two new tires. We also opted for the complete tune-up since according to all my service records it had never had one and we now have more than 75,000 miles and I’m heading to Atlanta in two weeks.

When we get our next oil change, we’ll do the coolant and transmission fluid flushes.

At noon, the guy who supervises the actual technicians stopped by. They had replaced three of my four spark plugs. The last one was stuck. He said I could take the car home and return after my trip to finish the job. Great, I thought, I’m getting really hungry and would like to go home and have a real meal.

At 12:30, the service coordinator returned. He gave me a bottle of cold water. Which was great because all I had to drink so far was coffee. He wanted to get the car fixed before Atlanta, and preferably he didn’t want me driving it. So, after some looking at scheduling, they opted to keep the car with the promise to get it to me today or get me a loaner for Wednesday.

And they said they could have the shuttle take me home. The shuttle returned at 1 p.m. and disappeared before offering me a ride. Eva got down with her lunch clients and offered to come get me a little after 1:30 p.m. She arrives– and I kid you not– an old man with a walker lumbers up the ramp and takes up the door. After almost six hours in the room, I could not get out the door.

When we got home, the frazzled energies continued: my eggs were frozen, I burnt my toast, and the cat we are fostering tried to steal the bacon out of my sandwich (he did, but I wrestled it away from him) and then I sat down to watch TV and my Netflix account wouldn’t load, but Eva’s did. I watched hers.

And everyone kept talking about a blue supermoon and I was so confused because a blue moon is the second full moon in the month and it’s the middle of the month. Then Eva explained, “no, Mom, it’s literally blue.”

“Then they should say the blue-COLORED moon,” the editor in me replied.

The dealership called a little after three. There were two Ackermans in service that day. The person who handed me my paperwork gave me the wrong set. I almost signed for the wrong car!

I got my car back. Adjusted the seat because I have little legs and cringed at the fact that somebody put the country station on in my car. I drove over to Wawa for happy hour to treat myself to a cafe con leche because it’s been a long day. (Though I did do a draft of my Sex Down South slide show!) The young man doing the barista work burned my milk. Bought Eva some Mountain Dew because CVS has no Adderall.

And came home.

Random Thursday nonsense: a trip to the neurologist, strange items brought home from a warehouse, the start of goodbye… and caramel apple coffee.

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

I feel a little guilty right now because The Teenager has a sore throat and what appears to be the start of an ear infection. It’s a common occurrence for her and nothing says “back-to-school” like an ear infection on a 95-degree September day.

I had a good day, and despite my ongoing sensation of exhaustion (none of us who work at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy sleep well these days) I am experiencing an emotion I think I recognize as joy. It is bittersweet as I had to say goodbye to two work friends today, and many more will go tomorrow.

Speaking of the warehouse closure, I’m starting to feel unsure whether we are closing a business or a preschool. Today’s free pile included lanyards, insulated branded lunch bags, gift bags, inflatable guitars, bingo cards, and raffle tickets. Yesterday I brought home stickers, pipe cleaners, serving trays made out of cardboard-ish, egg carton material and I almost had a collapsible storage cubby but a random elderly colleague came over, took it out of my hand and said, “excuse me, that’s mine.” I handed it over because 1. I’m not acting petty over free things and 2. I was taken aback (but not surprised) by the gall.

My neighbor whose nickname I can’t recall had the other cubby and she offered hers to me, but I declined. She picked hers up fair and square. And really, I don’t need more random stuff.

I’m going to bounce around in this blog post, but I’ll try to use subtitles.

Sharing my words

So I went to my neurologist/physiatrist today and I gave her one of the Parisian Phoenix books, Not an Able-Bodied White Man with Money. We had talked about it the last time I saw her and she told me to email her the info because she wanted to buy it. No one has ordered that book since the last time I saw her, therefore I thought it was safe to bring her a copy.

She started flipping through it right away. She teasingly chastised me for distracting her, and I told her that next time I would save books for the end of the visit. She also mentioned she had a patient whose wife was considering approaching a breeder about a mobility dog prospect for her husband, and she (my doctor) wanted to know the name of the program where I am on the wait list.

My doctor believed it would be too much expense and too much of an undertaking for this couple to buy a dog and have it trained as a service dog, especially since they don’t even seem confident that a dog is right for them. My doctor suggested looking for a program, and I offered to speak with them if they so desired.

When I left the office, I discovered organizers of the Artful Dash on the Stirner Arts Trail here in Easton reached out via Instagram to ask if they could use photos from my blog to promote this year’s 5K. I, of course, gave them permission.

Medical stuff

Today was my last specialist appointment before my benefits change. My team and I seem to be on the same page, and they appreciate the fact that I pay attention to my body and try to implement lifestyle habits to counteract any health issues.

My gynecologist, primary care physician and my neurologist/physiatrist all agree that some of my current stiffness and bladder issues may stem from a combination of stress and change in exercise habits. Now that my increased sodium intake seems to have eliminated my orthostatic hypotension and decreased my fall risk, I am working on losing weight (ten more pounds off by Christmas I hope) and paying more attention to my urination issues. My current management of my potential incontinence symptoms includes using a toilet every time I see one, and honestly, unless I start having recurrent issues in public I’m not concerned. It could be, my neurologist said, that my theory that my days of bad spasticity means my bladder might be having spasms, too.

And the random tingling limbs so far is not a cause for concern. But, as always, I have a list of symptoms to watch for.

Random Caramel Apple Iced Coffee

We received Wawa gift cards at work last week and I stopped yesterday and got a caramel apple iced coffee. Now, I don’t normally like Wawa’s iced coffee. It’s too weak for me. But the cold brew was a $1 more and I’m cheap.

It was delicious, though I do wish the coffee were stronger and they never put enough ice in there so it’s always warm by then end. Because I don’t normally drink sugary coffee I was buzzed by the time I got to the gynecologist.

Chicky… and a puckle schmear, and a visit to Miller’s Hardware

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Yesterday was a gorgeous Saturday morning and my coupon to Dairy Queen to get buy one, get one free Blizzards for my birthday was set to expire. The Teenager asked me if I would accompany her to the hardware store, and I said sure, if she would force me to go to Aldi for half and half, and she said, “Sure, then I can get more creamsicles with the popsicle outsides.”

It was 9:30 a.m.– The Teenager was on a morning break between pet sitting clients. She wanted to visit our neighborhood hardware store, Piscitello’s Home Center, for our first visit since the store changed hands. But first… I suggested we visit the other local hardware store in the small town a mile away from us, West Easton.

Now if you’re local to the Lehigh Valley of Pa., you might already know where I wanted to take her. You see the Teenager loves hardware stores, tools, doo-dads, mops and sponges. The Teenager took woodshop, engineering, and home repair in high school, all the hands-on, doing useful things kind of skills that she did not inherit from her father and I.

When she was about six, my brother had gotten a chain stuck on the pick up truck and Poppop on the Mountain was crawling around on the gravel parking lot trying to remove it. The Teenager– then the Wee One– crawled under the truck and gave it a yank with everything she had. Poppop laughed, and gruffly made the comment, “there’s my grandson.”

My father told that story, with such pride, at least once a year.

The Teenager doesn’t hesitate to tackle household projects so it was time to take her someplace special: Miller’s Hardware. It’s been around for more than 100 years, and our local television station even did a feature on it, click here. Most of us in the borough (Wilson) and in West Easton have homes that are 75 to 100 years old. So, to think that this little slice of living history with the bits and pieces we need to do things around our homes still exists is amazing.

They didn’t seem to take credit cards, and the cash register was very old, and Mr. Miller, whose grandfather started the business on Butler Street in Wilson and had been known for the in-house chickens, is a thin man who seems a tad slowed by age though he moves about the cluttered maze of rooms with precision.

I found some cash in my wallet that I keep for emergencies, and The Teenager bought a pair of safety googles, one of those long mixer drill attachments and some double stick carpet tape will dust glued to the box and graphic design that screamed of last century. I honestly encouraged her to buy it because of the box. The total came to $17.50.

We’re not sure how Mr. Miller did his math, but I think he sets the prices when he acquires the inventory and doesn’t increase them with inflation, because many of the prices were drawn on with marker and seemed way too low. But if it’s been on the shelf for twenty years, I think the merchandise is paid for.

I sent a photo of the tape to Gayle and asked her to give a guess when this product was made.

“1970s,” she said.

So is this double-stick carpet tape as old as I am?

Miller’s Hardware is an overwhelming and amazing gem.

But then we did have to go to the new Piscitello’s, where at one point, the Teenager almost had a part-time job if only she hadn’t worried about it conflicting with marching band season. We got a new hose, a hose splitter, some new hose nozzles and even some hose gaskets.

And then we went to Dairy Queen for blizzards. Now, with my recent health issues, I pee a lot. And even though I peed before we left the house, I had to go again already. So, The Teenager pulled over to Wawa and ate her blizzard while I ran in to use the restroom. Here is what we learned: Getting ice cream at Dairy Queen and people watching in the parking lot of Wawa might be our new favorite hobby.

And then on the way home, on the side street, right by our house, there was a turkey vulture in the middle of the road with a dead possum. And he made it quite clear, dragging that carcass around, that it was his and he was keeping it. We didn’t want to disturb him, so we sat and watched for a while, afraid to scare him away. But others didn’t share our special consideration for the vulture.

We made a video:

We did, by the way, get the half and half and popsicles so all is right with the world.

And today, The Teenager was chatting with me about her sudden appreciation for plain, old yellow mustard to which I said, “best thing on a hot dog, mustard and a puckle schmear.”

I really want my brain fog to lift. And then I offered her a piece of “chicky” because apparently my half-brain thinks chicken is too fancy a word.

Birthday, day two: Off to the races!

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Yesterday was my official birthday and the festivities exhausted me so heartily that I have waited until this morning to write about it. Since the medical establishment has not discovered rhyme or reason about my recent health issues, I made the decision earlier this weekend to eat what I felt like consuming, have a good time and return to my disciplined habits tomorrow.

Currently, I am sipping my peppermint coffee, while combating a vague lightheadedness and lower blood pressure and taking my beta blocker. I miss the robustness of my strong Supercoffee dark roast and had I known my blood pressure was low, I would have made some, but I feared it was high from my diet of Sheetz spicy chicken sandwich, jalapeno poppers and a premium sampler of salty fried snacks, pastries upon pastries, and sugary candy galore… because it was my birthday.

Little Dog stayed with us for a few days and her mother returned for her yesterday, bringing with her the largest pastry I have ever seen which I later discovered was an elephant ear and what I am eating now, which appears to be some sort of blueberry scone with a touch of lemon if I am not mistaken. But someone must tell whatever bakery Jan is visiting that the term “elephant ear” is not meant to be life size.

The Teenager wanted so terribly to take me for a nice meal of my choice, but I told her– you know what I want? Some decadent road trip snacks to eat on our way to Pocono Raceway for the Sports Car Club of America Road Racing Northern New Jersey Region Joe DeLuca and Linda Gronlund Freedom Major. (scca.com)

One of my high school peers works as an official at the track, so he invited the Teenager and I to come sit in the pits and watch as many classes as we wished and potentially stay for the cookout at the end of the day.

But I get ahead of myself.

The Writing Stuff

Little Dog and I slept in until a delightful 5:30 a.m. yesterday and then I copyedited the text for the next title in production for Parisian Phoenix Publishing. (We have 11 titles out now, one a tad delayed but due out as soon as we make the final tweaks, and this new one is #13, which since it is a tarot journal seems apropos.) Anyone who wishes to make my birthday even more exciting should consider buying one or several of our books. Here is the whole list on Amazon, including one book that’s not ours but shares a title and confuses the algorithm.

I finished the text of the tarot book, sent it to Gayle to mock up some design while we wait for the author to approve the text, and then headed to a meeting at Panera Bread with Larry Sceurman to retrieve his final proof on Coffee in the Morning. As it was my birthday, Panera gave me a free pastry after I already ordered my asiago bagel with chive cream cheese and Larry paid for my refreshments due to my day of birth.

I am happy to report that the changes to Coffee in the Morning are minor, and very good catches on the part of Larry and his wife, Barbara. The team spirit at Parisian Phoenix creates an atmosphere where we all really are putting our best foot forward and making sure we all look good in the end.

From there Larry and I attended the Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group to surprise Darrell Parry, who was giving the morning presentation and afternoon workshop on poetry. I may have left with an invitation to be the October speaker and a nomination to serve as the group’s president. More on that here.

With my commitment to attend the races, I could not stay for the afternoon workshop. I went home and collected the Teenager and we drove over to Sheetz to gather our road trip snacks, redeem birthday points for gas ($2.92 a gallon) and head to Pocono Raceway with a Spotify playlist The Teenager carefully curated.

The Racing Stuff

I have not visited Pocono Raceway in 30 years. This area used to have two major racetracks, Pocono and Nazareth, and Darrell lived about a mile from the Nazareth track. It closed shortly after we graduated college, which is also damn near 30 years ago. I am not a NASCAR or Formula One fan, but my life tends to intersect with motorsports. My dad was a diesel mechanic known to race microstock, participate in tractor pulls and ride his Harley, anything to tinker with an engine.

When the Teenager was a year old, we went to the dirt track every Friday night to watch him race and when his racetrack closed, he told me not to attend his new venue as he deemed it too dirty and not family-friendly enough for the baby. I also have vague memories of going to drag races in New Jersey during my own childhood.

Once we found Bob and Erica up at Pocono, we settled in for our first class, Ford spec. Next came I believe a GT Lite class. Then the little min-formula one type cars with the small engines. The last class we saw was the Miata spec class, with three Minis and a Chevy Aveo sharing the track with them.

I definitely enjoyed the spec classes, as the cars are so similar that the race relies more on the prowess of the driver versus the classes where the cars have so many differences. In the mixed classes, the gaps between cars are much wider and that makes the race less interesting from a spectator perspective. The slow cars tend to be less interesting to watch also as they take so long to go around the track that you almost forget they are out there.

We stopped at Wawa on the way home for water and due to sale prices I ended up with fancy Hawaiian volcanic water for the same price as Deer Park.

And the special thank you goes to Santander Bank for making me feel ancient by sending me an email to remind me that my oldest account with them dates back almost 24 years and that they wish me a happy birthday.

Christmas Eve Phase 2: A Trip to Bethlehem and Nazareth

Angel Ackerman 2 Comments

My mother-in-law mentioned that she was making fried chicken and potato salad for Christmas Eve dinner, so I of course said I would come. If there is something I love, it’s her fried chicken and potato salad. She also made ham and a honey glaze. And stuffed shells. I put honey glaze on my chicken.

My brother-in-law made figgy pudding. That was tasty.

My mother-in-law always has a heap of homemade Christmas cookies and the family fruitcake recipe is unbelievably tasty. And the goofy sugar/coconut/strawberry JellO crystal cookies are one of my favorites.

The Teenager says she likes when I come to family functions, because I liven them up a bit with my big mouth.

My mother-in-law makes a LOT of cookies

The kids opened presents– the eldest great-grandchild received a learn-to-tie-your-shoelaces wooden shoe (The Teenager received the same but in book form at that age) and “The Old Lady Who Swallowed The Fly” finger puppets (as The Teenager also did as a child, except the Teenager received a creepy old lady doll with a creepy gaping mouth). I tried to engage the whole family in a sing-along of There Was An Old Lady Who Swallowed The Fly, because all the children in the family, I believe even back to my husband and his siblings, were raised with that morbid song.

No one went for it.

If you don’t know the song, here’s a version on YouTube.

I’ll give you some nice holiday photos of the tree and The Teenager opening her exciting new clamps from her uncle, who always knows what she needs for her growing tool collection. And she also kept swapping out the baby Jesus in the manger for first a goose and then a turkey.

With our bellies bursting with cookies and figgy pudding– so yummy, I do love figs, we left Bethlehem to travel to Nazareth to visit one of my former Target colleagues who now works there. We exchanged some Christmas hugs. I put gas in the car. And The Teenager got a salted caramel hot chocolate.

This low-key holiday is working out perfectly.

The ordinary adventures

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

So, if you’re a friend of mine or a regular here, you know that I have asked my employer, Stitch Fix, for a short-term disability/ FMLA leave to deal with my ruptured tendon (mallet or baseball finger) and its impact on my right hip.

This means I’ve made a commitment to work with my family doctor, my chiropractor (Nicole Jensen at Back in Line Chiropractic and Wellness Center) and Andrew, my personal trainer at Apex Training.

And to keep my hands warm and not use my finger.

Yesterday, I saw Nicole and we discussed the state of my body and the trade-off I seem to be making— working in the Bizzy Hizzy warehouse keeps me active but causes pain, but not being in a physical job makes me stiff and makes it difficult to move, even when I take the same amount of steps I do at work.

Andrew and I are working on strength, mobility, stability and range of motion.

I had lunch with my mother yesterday, who upon her return home had her dog pass away.

In the afternoon, I spoke with my disability claims examiner and gathered paperwork for her. My eligibility confirmation came through this morning, and I think the actual leave is just a matter of paperwork now.

But paperwork sure is sucking the life out of me right now.

So this morning when the weather looked sunny and conducive to a perfect spring day, Nan and I decided to surprise the teenager and retrieve her hearing aids from the ear doctor. Then, we could grab some cold beverages and visit Bethlehem’s Monocacy Park.

The park is quiet, easy to navigate and has a creek. The birds, geese and fishermen would offer entertainment for Nan, as between the water and the animals there would be nature to hear as well as see.

It was a fantastic way to bring some stress-free moments into running errands.

After a modified upper body workout with Andrew, Joan stopped by and brought me an early birthday gift from the residents of Plastiqueville.

A hat!!!!

The hat was not for me but for my mallet finger.

And for dinner, the teenager made Hungryroot meatballs and cauliflower linguine. We used ShopRite tomato and basil pasta sauce. It turned out so lovely I had to make a slice of butter bread to sop up the sauce.

Small pleasures.

A day in the life— medical update, meal plans, sunshine, animals and publishing

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

I make a lot of lists.

Sometimes my journals are nothing but to do lists and shopping lists. But I like lists— even if I never refer to them again, the act of making a list allows me to stop thinking about things.

If I want to refer to it later, I know where to look, but I no longer have to worry about forgetting as if I want to remember or revisit items from an earlier day I can but I am not staring at a list focusing on what needs to be addressed versus what I actually did.

Many people make lists to receive the satisfaction of checking off the things that are done. I don’t do that. Sometimes I do, but now it’s more like I am acknowledging the list versus trying to conquer it.

I used to finish my list every day or stress over the things I didn’t get to, and on top of that— the list never made me feel better or more in control.

It just exhausted me.

Trapped and the Cover for the Anthology Arrive

Parisian Phoenix’s first contemporary romance has arrived and it looks great. Read more about that here.

But I also received the cover for Not An Able-Bodied White Man with Money, which I will be blogging about on the Parisian Phoenix site this weekend.

And I have a 4 p.m. meeting today with another author who I have been hoping would join our family.

Now if only I could finalize some of our business documents to really move the projects forward.

Yesterday (Voluntary Time Off) and evaluating my health

Life at Stitch Fix’s Bizzy Hizzy has been odd lately. We’re shipping something like 8,000 fixes a day and having the opportunity for voluntary time off.

Last week, I performed at pretty damn close to 100% without pain or significant mobility issues. This week, issues started mildly during my Sunday shift and deteriorated Monday & Tuesday, leaving me at 80% and crying myself to sleep. I talked about this here.

I’m very much wondering if my menstrual cycle has something to do with it, as the Mirena IUD has done miracles for my pain and issues in that department but has made my cycle irregular. I think my body is trying to menstruate later than usual.

I was taking inventory of my recent balance, mobility and functioning issues as today I had my annual “wellness visit” that the office rescheduled from last week.

I took VTO yesterday to allow myself some rest and some time as life (and grief from my father’s death two months ago) has gotten chaotic and overwhelming.

And I made the teenager and I grilled cheese as I had promised to do, and the child acted like I had prepared filet mignon for her.

I have a feeling I will be repeating that after school today.

We also watched Miranda Sings Live on Netflix. The teenager went through a time when she watched the show, so that was weird. It always amazes me how much talent it takes to perform badly.

The doctor today

I have spent more than a decade assembling a talented and caring medical team, so now I can confidently say any issues with my medical treatment stem from the system and not from my doctors.

The doctor and his resident agreed with my assessment that it’s time for me to get into the physiatrist and that their office will advocate for me on that as well, and that my instincts and approaches are correct.

I learned that women more so than men tend to favor one side when they move or stand. As women age, this tendency can create problems. That means this is a problem normal people have and not just a result of cerebral palsy.

And most interestingly… I learned that women more so than men tend to favor one side when they move or stand. As women age, this tendency to let’s say ‘lean’ can create problems, just like what I am experiencing now with my right hip and right leg/foot. That means this is a problem normal people have and not just a result of cerebral palsy.

I reiterated to them that I do know I need to lose 20 pounds, but that we have some issues to address before that.

The psychology of emotional and physical pain

When I was turning 40, I embarked on a journey to lose five pounds and gain muscle. I inadvertently lost 30 lbs and ended up a skeleton and regained some weight to look like this:

That was about 30 pounds ago. I have no need to be that lean again, but I’d really like to see 135 lbs again— which means I need to lose 20 lbs.

I told my doctor and his resident— I know I can’t eat an entire bag of cheese puffs or Wawa bowl of mac and cheese and brisket after dinner. But I’m struggling with depression from my body pain and my father’s unexpected death.

I’m grateful I haven’t turned to alcohol like many in my family, but I have “given in” to food as a psychological crutch.

I pay almost $300 a month for a personal trainer, but I can’t work as hard as I want to because I hurt and I feel like I need answers as to how to move my body so it doesn’t hurt. Because if I could exercise more and move more, I wouldn’t sabotage myself by eating garbage (or if I did, I would be active enough to balance it).

But right now, when I come home from a ten-hour shift with my body twisted and aching badly, and wishing I could call my dad so he could make me laugh and tell me how much it sucks to get old, I grab junk food because it’s the last pleasure I have.

I can’t move without pain so if I’m going to be forced to get fat and lazy I might as well enjoy the process.

These are ugly thoughts and I know that, but I’m being honest.

The fun stuff: errands with Nan

After leaving my primary care doctor, I called Nan as we were scheduled to do some errands together. We stopped at Wawa for some hot caffeinated beverages (cafe con leche for me and vanilla chai for Nan).

Among other stops we visited Park Avenue Market and Deli, one of our favorite haunts known for its deli, salads and meats.

Although I am once again contemplating more of a vegan diet, which will make the teenaged carnivore wince, I am not ready to commit until I feel better. We must achieve discipline before we enact change.

I never got around to meal planning yesterday so I didn’t have a list. I ended up spending $36.89 and I think the results will work.

I purchased: two packs of beef jerky, one small box of minute rice for the teen, three or four teeny tiny bags of Wise snacks from popcorn to potato chips, meatballs, the biggest damn carrot I’ve ever seen, frozen vegetable medley with potatoes and garlic herb sauce, sweet potato crinkle cut fries, pork roll, Lebanon bologna, liverwurst, turkey, olive salad, a store-baked pig ear for the dog and something called “hot pepper shooters”— round hot peppers stuffed with prosciutto and provolone.

Rough meal plan

My rough meal plan for the next week or so is:

  • Sandwiches
  • Meatballs and green peppers, either as a sandwich or in pasta
  • vegetable lasagna still in the freezer from last week
  • Burgers and fries, using ground beef from the freezer and the sweet potato fries
  • Cold tortellini salad with roasted carrot, olive salad and seasoned broccoli (broccoli is in the freezer)
  • Pork roll and egg sandwiches
  • Chicken and the frozen vegetables and rice or other grain

PS— we also welcomed a new foster into the house. Her name is Babs. Meet her in this video. I need to make her a page.

Welcome 2022

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

I can’t believe it’s 2022.

The teenager graduates from high school this spring. My baby is graduating in 2022. My baby.

It’s been a good start to the year.

My great grandmother was born January 1, 1900. So every year I think to myself that my great grandmother would be X years old. 122. She died in the 1990s.

I woke up at 4:30 a.m. and cuddled cats until 6ish. And believe it or not, I had a cup of coffee and starting doing chores— dishes, meal planning, updating the wall calendar.

The teenager came home from work around 9 a.m. She and her dad brought my favorite coffee, café con leche, and a Sizzli: pork roll, egg and cheese on a bagel. I have wanted to try the pork roll Sizzli for a while and it was delicious. 19 grams of protein and 400 calories.

The teenager and I went to the gym, where we goofed around during the official Boot Camp class. She loaded 188 pounds onto the leg press! When Boot Camp was under control, we started barbell squats and then Romanian deadlifts.

The teenager squatted 135 pounds! I made it to 115, but I wasn’t comfortable attempting 135. It’s too close to my body weight.

I love to watch her lift.

Then, I went to get Nan as we were scheduled to work. After we finished her writing, I prepared a chicken bone-broth soup and a cheese and pierogie casserole. My Hungryroot is stuck in transit so I rooted through my pantry to see what I could prepare. I had a long overtime shift yesterday and don’t want to spend my day off grocery shopping.

And then we starting reading the upcoming Parisian Phoenix anthology, Not An Able-Bodied White Man with Money. And meanwhile Joan is shooting more photos for Trapped.

I have received several beautiful messages today— from current and former colleagues at work, strangers on my blog, and my psychologist.

And another good thing— I got to laugh heartily with my daughter. Mostly at the expense of her dog.

And this is Bean trying to make friends with Khloe. Video

** P.S. I haven’t done my Cobra pose physical therapy. My spine is hurting. Is this why?

Day 1 in the books

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

My day started with an unfamiliar alarm at 5 a.m. I haven’t used an alarm to wake up for quite some time, and I’ve noticed recently that the iPhone’s “birdsong” no longer gets my attention. Though it does get the attention of foster cat Khloe and my Goffin cockatoo.

I quickly and silently crept from my room as to not wake said cockatoo. She needs her sleep and the last thing the teenager needs is a grouchy Goffin yelling for me.

I got dressed in the bathroom.

I had even worn my “Monday mood” socks with the coffee on them from my adult days of the week socks, because even though it’s Sunday, it’s Monday to me. I think this new work schedule renders my days of the week socks obsolete.

I went downstairs, made a cup of coffee and while waiting for it to brew, loaded the dishwasher. I had no intention of feeding cats at 5 a.m.

But you can’t sneak with cats around.

Most of them watched me drink my coffee.

I got in the car and discovered the teenager forgot to put gas in it. 85 miles to empty.

I made it to the Bizzy Hizzy by 6:05, greeted by my favorite security guard.

And I was assigned to Stitch Fix Freestyle QC. I stayed there until 3 p.m. so I guess that means I did a whole shift in that department.

The Big Boss of the Warehouse stopped by, I believe around 7:30 a.m. I overheard him ask our supervisor if everyone showed up.

I enjoyed freestyle today. And I really like the break schedule— it makes a 10-hour day feel like an 8-hour day, at least emotionally.

At our first break (8:55 to 9:10), Stitch Fix served us catered breakfast.

Meanwhile, the teenager and her dog hung out with Nala. The Goffin.

My phone would not track my steps today, leaving me to add them manually.

I had a good meeting with my new supervisor and process lead because they wanted to get to know me. And to introduce themselves. And this is one of the corny parts of Stitch Fix corporate culture that I like— they encourage everyone to connect with one another as people not just as cogs in the wheel.

Honestly the rest of the day passed quickly. Just before last break (3:10 to 3:25) I received word that my estranged husband crashed his car.

And after break, I was walking back to my station in women’s returns when I looked at the time clock at 3:27 p.m. — the time I normally clock in.

At 3:45 p.m., we all looked very confused as the loudspeaker walked us through our first stretches of the day.

Around this time, I received a call that Em was probably going to be adopted tonight. This was after hearing that Shady went home with her new family yesterday.

And we looked confused again when the 5 p.m. safety message played as we clocked out.

The teenager drove her father home. We then stopped at Wawa for gas and dinner. I got a black bean bowl with grilled chicken, spinach, carrots, lettuce and I’m not even sure what for sauce.

The first few bites were the best thing I ever tasted, but by the end I was very sick of it.

I ended my night trying to keep Nala the Goffin from attacking Khloe the foster cat.

Another whirlwind and even less answers

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

This post will be a mishmash of the last 48 hours and will discuss some of the frustration of dealing with my cerebral palsy, life as Midnight Society comes to a close at the Stitch Fix Bizzy Hizzy, a brief mention of the new Wawa dinners and a thank you to the amazing teenager for her thoughtfulness in hiring a cleaner to help get the house under control.

The supply chain issues still create work shortages at the Bizzy Hizzy warehouse so as Midnight Society prepares for it’s change to day shift in December, some of us are only working about 20-25 hours a week.

I’m using the time to edit manuscripts and make more plans for Parisian Phoenix Publishing and deal with my mobility and pain issues.

The last few nights at work have been good (and last night was my one year anniversary)— I performed at 98% last night in QC folding those Stitch Fix parcels and tonight I think I surpassed 100%. But bending is still troublesome and what I believe are my quads burn the entire time I am standing.

These photos try to capture my one year pin.

So today was an emotional day. My sweet, amazing teenager hired a cleaner to deep clean the house. The cleaner did the upstairs yesterday and the downstairs today.

The house looks incredible.

And it was fun to interact with someone who wanted to help, loved our crazy animals and commented about how awesome my kid is.

I noticed early today that my X-rays had arrived in my St. Luke’s Hospital portal. I read them and they said my hips were fine, and the only findings on them (other than my new IUD and tampon) mentioned items in my spine.

But when the doctor’s office called at 2 p.m., he just wanted to ship me off to physical therapy. And I’m not sure that’s the whole answer. I work out. I have had physical therapy for my lumbar region already.

Two important questions physical therapy can’t answer:

1. How does this impact my ability to keep doing my job?

When I mentioned this to the person on the phone from my doctor’s office, she asked me what I wanted, mentioning that they could sign me out of work. I said no, I am looking for a more permanent answer than that.

2. How does my general crookedness factor in? The doctor’s office made this sound like no big deal, but I hurt. More often than not. So does my imperfect gait add more stress to this problem?

I’m going to talk to my trainer tomorrow, and my chiropractor Friday. I think there are more questions that need to be asked and I’m not sure what they are.

And in final ridiculous news… I tried a Wawa burger.

It was cheaper and heartier than I expected.