The More, The Messier

Wanna Age Faster? I Know How!

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Wed, 04 Feb 2026 23:31:00 +0000

OMG, so it snowed here last week, 5 inches, no problem really, we shoveled that, and then it started sleeting. Who cares, right, it's just sleet? Well, it turns out that when the temps are way below freezing, sleet actually accumulates like snow

Who the heck knew that? Not me, for sure

Gratuitous photo of my completed January socks

But sleet is three times heavier than snow (another fun new fact for moi), so our 3-4 inches of sleet was the equivalent of shoveling 9-12 extra inches of snow, and there was one point on the second day when I thought, OMG, Larry and I are going to die out here, because not only do we shovel our front steps and our walk and the sidewalk fronting our townhouse, we have to shovel ALL THE WAY to where our cars are parked (3 times, we did this, THREE), and THEN we dig out our cars and THEN we shovel all the parts of the parking lot that the plow company claims the plow can't do.

Did I mention there was a lot of chopping involved because that top layer of sleet was just solid ice by Monday? By the end we were using garden spades to hack away at the ice, and the kids were building snow forts out of all the blocks of ice we were tossing to the side, and OMG my shoulder hurts and my wrist hurts and maybe we need to move.

Great snow fort material, though

Larry and I each spent at least 3 hours both days shoveling, and then we would come in and eat cookies and potato chips and dip and let me tell you, those were just the right things to stock up on before a snowstorm. I never did get around to the cinnamon rolls, because I was too tired to knead dough on top of all the shoveling, so those will just have to wait until next time.

Silver lining: all this ice made for some magnificently dangerous sledding on the golf course behind our house -- Larry went down the hill with Olivia on our plastic toboggan and they looked just like one of those cartoons of Calvin and Hobbes on a sled, just flying away, so hey, I guess it was all worth it.

Snowman by a budding Picasso, apparently

It has stayed cold (not complaining there, no mosquitoes are biting me when I walk outside), so the ice and snow still haven't melted, and maybe all the cold weather in the country has encouraged people to knit a red hat, because OMG we've raised more than $250K on this one $5 pattern alone.

I'm proud of my fellow knitters, is what I'm saying. I didn't own any red yarn myself, despite having an entire bedroom filled with yarn, so I had to make a trip to the yarn store Saturday for one skein of red yarn, which was less than $10, but somehow I managed to spend my entire $100 Christmas gift card from Larry while I was there. Yarn stores are weird that way.

Unexpectedly expensive $8 yarn, but hey

Theo and his wife (blog name? Not yet? Okay, Cathy), who generally work remotely, were missing their childcare this week, so they came to my house for three of the days to work while I played with Olivia. I knew I had to be ready, so I pulled out the old toys I saved, prepped some activities and games (turns out I still remember how to make homemade playdough!), and lined up all the fun books. I was prepared, I'm telling you.

[Shoutout to this lady on Instagram, she's a genius, by the way, for amusing young kids with cheap, easy-to-set-up activities]

Color-sorting fun for the win - she loved this

I mean, I thought I was prepared. But this past week has made me realize I've never hung out with "just" a two-year-old. By the time Theo was two, there was also Baby Anna and life was all about survival; after that, well, there were older kids running around to keep the little one amused while I did stuff. I have never, ever had to full-time amuse a two-year-old. Let me tell you, it is nonstop and tiring, OMG.

So, even with all the fun activities, I had to call in the cavalry (Rachel, the cavalry was Rachel) in the afternoons to take over while I held her baby Sissy. The cousins did somewhat interact, but mostly to pounce on the same toy at once and fight over the same square foot of floor space, which brought back lots of memories of my days/years spent raising kids, but really? I am finding it increasingly hard to believe that I was ever a mom. HOW DID I DO ALL THAT?

The one toy to rule them all, if your baby cousin is playing with it

Old, that's how grandchildren make you feel, very very old. Also? Shoveling ice, that makes you feel old, too. In one week, I've managed to age about a decade, so I guess watch this space for more tips on how to feel prematurely decrepit, I'm an expert now.

Fashion Tips, Quakers, Mutual Aid - All Right Here

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Fri, 23 Jan 2026 01:18:00 +0000

Hey, have I mentioned my two extremely cute granddaughters? Olivia (2) and Sissy (almost 1!) are running around and playing with the few old toys I held on to from their parents and aunts and uncles, and I'll have you know that once the baby of the family, ALWAYS the baby of the family, because my Susie came home from college for Christmas break, saw Sissy holding the little pink bear we've had for ages, and immediately said, "Hey, that's MINE!"

Almost as cute as the grandbaby who was holding it

Just FYI, it is way easier to read Goodnight, Moon 6 times in a row when you aren't chronically sleep deprived, who knew? Kudos to other grandparents who watch their grandchildren full time, though - I can make it about 2 hours and I'm dying, I seem to have lost my childrearing stamina.

Or maybe I just used it up? 6 kids will do that to you

I still enjoy working at Trader Joe's, even though it is killing me because it turns out I am old and not quite as fit as I thought I was. It's the local store, which means I see a lot of people that I haven't run into since the kids grew up, and it's always fun to say hi and catch up (or, in some cases, to scan frantically through my fading memory banks searching for someone's name). We change tasks in the store every hour, which keeps it all from becoming mind-numbingly boring, and we're encouraged to talk to people, which is interesting unless too many weirdos show up in a row, in which case I contemplate quitting, because OMG there are so many of them out there, WHY

Also, I can't quit, because the money lets me buy fun clogs, after all these years of being sensible:

I LOVE THEM

See those flare jeans? I'd been wanting this style for a while, because all the cool kids at work had them, while I was still wearing my fussy early 2020s jeggings. Unfortunately, it's really hard to find this type of pant if you're short -- you can't cuff them, and if you hem them you lose the flare. So in June I steeled myself to stare straight at the prospect of going to 10 different stores and trying on all the jeans and maybe ordering more jeans online and having to return all of them - I looked that monster straight in the face and said YES, NOW IS THE TIME, LET'S GO SHOPPING

But then I had a brainstorm while perusing sale items online and spotting photos of - what's this? FLARE CAPRIS? You know, those pants that come down to the top of a normal person's calf? Hmmmm, why not try it?

Reader, I'm calling it the Miracle of the Flare Jeans, and I didn't even pray to any saints first. Those silly capris fit perfectly on my midget legs, and did I mention they were on sale?

I'm a fashion icon now, look at me - only don't, because Larry still doesn't allow personal photos here

********

Anna (aka treasured eldest daughter) got married in November!

(Really, I should have led with this, but here we are)

Not only that, but her spouse happens to be a standup comic, which...I don't know...you know how the stereotype is that Jewish mothers are excited if their daughters marry doctors? That's how I feel about Anna's wife, it's just so cool.

Anna and her spouse (who needs a blog name, I dunno, um, Sally) learned that the fastest and cheapest way to get married in their city is to have a Quaker wedding, because no officiant is needed. Time was of the essence, you see, since Sally had a day job with actual health insurance and Anna's ACA premiums were about to go up dramatically, and I KNOW, IT'S SO ROMANTIC *swoon*

So all they had to do was pay $100 and the courthouse handed them the Quaker wedding document (which, unlike a Jewish ketubah, is NOT written in Hebrew, but I guess it still counts) and they just had to go have whatever sort of ceremony they wanted, with two witnesses to sign the not-ketubah, and ta-da, they'd be married.

I really have only the utmost respect for anyone who makes getting married NOT complicated and expensive, thank you, Quakers!

They refused to dress like this for the wedding, party poopers

Anna and Sally invited us and the other parents and a sibling or two and some friends to witness their Jewish Catholic lesbian Quaker wedding at an Italian restaurant near them in Philly. I felt right at home with the in-laws, because they were Italian and I grew up Italian-adjacent in northern NJ, and OMG they just kept ordering more food and passing it around the table, and Sally's mom at one point was trying to find out if Susie would be interested in dating Sally's younger brother.

I was eating dinner with a bunch of people straight out of Central Casting, and I was thrilled.

Trying to make conversation, I said to her mother, "The girls pulled this off really fast!" and she said to me, "I know! When Sally called me about the date, I said, 'Honey, why the rush? Did you get her pregnant?!?"

In case anyone was wondering where Sally gets her sense of humor from...

Anyway, the day after Anna got on the health insurance, Sally got laid off, so they split up

KIDDING

No, so now they are both without insurance, because the ACA rates are simply insane and Anna's job doesn't offer it and we can't have universal health insurance like a normal civilized country, but I guess they can just live on love, that's fine, everything is fine.

We had everyone here (including 3 - count them, THREE - kids-in-law) for Thanksgiving, and it was lovely, thank you very much. Sally tried to get away with saying she was useless in the kitchen, but we made her rice 10 pounds of potatoes anyway, which was a fitting welcome to our family holidays, I'm thinking.

Christmas was a much smaller affair, just the three youngest grown kids and one kid-in-law and little Sissy, and I pretty much worked my butt off without Anna here (she was at her in-laws), but at least I didn't get deathly sick on Christmas Eve like last year, so I call that a win.

Brian gave me a jigsaw puzzle of a New Yorker cover for Christmas, even though I haven't done a puzzle in years, so I decided to get back into it and, people, now I know WHY I haven't done a puzzle in years, I get OBSESSED.

This was MADDENING

I was late starting my January socks because I couldn't tear myself away from that stupid puzzle, but here they are, finally started (I know, you were worried):

Nice bright colors for winter, I need that

We have snow coming and it will be utter chaos with everyone buying milk and eggs and bread, because that is how we celebrate our rare snowfalls in this neck of the woods. We will probably end up with maybe 6 inches of snow and be left staring at ridiculous amounts of leftover cinnamon roll and French toast ingredients in our kitchens, but we will not learn, we will simply do it all over again the next time. It's sort of an endearing habit, IMO, because people are silly and I love that about them.

I also love people who are brave and care about their neighbors and the rule of law, so kudos to Minneapolis, for showing the rest of us how it should be done! If anyone cares to help these people help their neighbors, this article has a list of mutual aid funds that you can contribute to. Do it! You'll sleep better.

Any knitters here? You can buy this pattern off Ravelry, the proceeds all go to mutual aid in the Twin Cities. You'll feel good about helping, AND you'll have a hat, can't beat that!

Until next time, stay safe, stay warm, and stay away from jigsaw puzzles, they'll throw off your knitting mojo like you wouldn't believe...

More Travels With Old People

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Sat, 27 Dec 2025 05:28:00 +0000

Hi! Still here, still coping with the phenomenon that is 2025

No, really, it's FINE that a grown child of mine who has worked every day of their adult life can no longer afford health insurance. Totally normal and sensible and definitely NOT a sign of a society on the brink of collapse, no sireebob, we're good!

And you wonder why you haven't heard from me, hmmm? I feel slightly insane

BUT life goes on, even in a fascist hellscape, so let's talk about, I dunno, my trip to the Olympic Peninsula last July. As previously reported, David was not allowed to take us up any mountains, so instead we went to the beach, which involved a mile hike through woods and over some hills, because apparently there is no such thing as a simple stroll in the Pacific Northwest. The beach had humongous rocks scattered everywhere, as if a species of giants lived out there, a species completely unlike us ordinary mortals from the East Coast, with our cute little sand dunes on our accessible shorelines.

A tad intimidating, is what I'm saying

Oh, and our first night staying in Port Angeles, we were suddenly under a tsunami warning, so I texted David (who hadn't joined us yet), saying, "Ha, ha, tsunami warning, I'm sure nothing to worry about, right?" and he texted back, "So, how high is your Airbnb above sea level?" which was not exactly the reassuring response I had expected.

We don't have tsunami warnings at home -- no giant rocks, no giant waves, everything is human-sized.

We took a ferry one day to Victoria, which was very exciting, because I had never ever been to Canada, and man, they have real bike lanes and everything up there, and also universal health care, so I spent the ensuing months trying to convince Anna and her partner to move north, but no dice

Even the crossing signal has a bike on it, SO CUTE

We visited our not-so-newly retired friends for a few days while Susie returned to Seattle with David and climbed Mt. St. Helens with him, and no, I'm not sorry we missed out on that experience. Instead, we sat on our friends' deck looking out over Puget Sound and marveled at the lack of humidity and mosquitoes, just like last year, it was lovely.

No mosquitoes, NONE

We also went on a private tour of a submarine museum, AND we revisited the marvelous hotdog place, the one with curly fries and like 20 hotdog varieties on the menu. It was a very good time, and our friends didn't make us hike one bit.

Vacation dining at its best, IMO

I don't remember August. Like, literally, no memory whatsoever. I worked, I guess? Helped a bit with the grandbabies? I dunno.

In September, Larry and I took a trip (drum roll please) to EUROPE (the Baltic states, specifically). Larry had been to Europe many times on business, but I had never before set foot on the continent, so it was an all-new experience for me. We chose an organized tour, so if anything went wrong, we could blame Road Scholar and not each other (marriage hack!).

My takeaways:

1. Flying reminds me of surgery: I might die, but I have to do it.

2. KLM has very nice cheese snacks for breakfast, highly recommend

Unexpectedly delicious

3. The Baltic states have wonderful public bathrooms, individual little rooms, complete with real doors and their own little sinks, and maybe we should do that here and everyone can quit fussing about who is going in which bathroom, that would be nice.

4. I got to touch walls that had been standing since like the 1300s or something, which is sort of mindblowing:

These are VERY OLD

5. Seeing things in person is way more interesting than seeing them on YouTube. Maybe I should have known that, but I didn't.

6. There are people who travel A LOT, I felt like a rube compared to everyone else on the trip.

7. The Tallinn (Estonia) airport is impossibly cute:

Like landing at an IKEA, right?

8. I don't like strange (to me) food, so I subsisted on potatoes and yogurt and Magnum bars, I know, it's pathetic. Essentially, Larry was traveling with a 5-year-old.

9. We saw a beautiful church in Lithuania that had been designed and built by Italians, so essentially it was like going to Rome but cheaper (travel hack!)

Definitely NOT like an IKEA

10. Our country currently looks like a total basket case when you're sitting in Europe. The news coming from the other side of the Atlantic at that point was INSANE, to the point of embarrassing. All of us on the trip assiduously avoided talking US politics the entire time, until the last night at dinner, when the woman next to me said, "So, if you WERE going to try to claim asylum over here, which country would you pick?" and the entire table immediately chimed in with their answers, so obviously everyone had been thinking about it.

And there's a lot more to talk about, but I'm going to wrap this up, because it's late and this is long enough. Thanks for letting me talk at you and post vacation photos (I mean, if there is anyone left reading this - I know posting twice a year is not a good way to keep people engaged, but hey, 2025, you know? It's been nuts)

A Caveat, Plus MORE CHAIRS

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Mon, 28 Jul 2025 01:32:00 +0000

Oh, hi!

Really? After a 6-month absence, that's how I'm starting out?

Give me this, it's been a whopper of a 6-month period, okay? And I'll confess, part of my absence has been because it's been hard for me to balance giving cheerful little accounts of our family's day-to-day doings while also experiencing (along with everyone else) the societal/political turmoil and chaos that is affecting a lot of families, including ours. It just felt a little tone deaf, you know?

Flower box arrangement by Susie, who is glad she's in college right now and not looking for a job in this market

Still, I don't want to lose this record of our daily lives, either. I love looking back and remembering all the things I've jotted down over the past (OMG) 18 years. How do I keep that while not seeming oblivious to everything (waves vaguely) out there?

What did the 1930's Germans do about their blogs, I wonder? LOL, ROTFL, see it's just not funny, ugh

So I am back with my stupid, inconsequential stories, because skipping them isn't going to help anything or anyone. Hopefully they'll provide some respite from the horror, I dunno.

Am I mentioning this just so readers won't think I'm totally shallow and annoying? Probably.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming!

If you recall, last time we spoke, Larry and I were suffering a deficit of dining chairs (2 tables, 6 chairs), with Thanksgiving becoming a BYOChair event. Now, if you will believe it, we are the somewhat flummoxed owners of 16 (COUNT THEM SIXTEEN) dining chairs.

It started in February, when I took matters into my own hands to procure some used kitchen chairs that provided my long-desired pop of color:

Can't really explain the teddy bear as a centerpiece, oh well

They go well with the dilapidated chrome padded chairs and are a cheerful powder blue, which makes me happy but probably bothers Larry no end (remember, he doesn't believe in fun-colored furniture). We moved the 4 black kitchen chairs to the dining room, which really didn't look too bad with the wood table, but really, I just never wanted to think about chairs again. Ever. Larry also seemed to be happy not discussing this stupid topic anymore.

Total number of chairs? 10, a somewhat reasonable number -- not quite enough for holiday dinners, but hey, it was only February, we had time.

Fast forward 5 months (and really, where DOES the time go?!?): I came home from work (more on that later) last Sunday to find what we can only describe as The Miracle of the Chairs in my dining room:

Free table, $30 chairs, that only took 8 months

That's right, folks - Larry finally found the long-sought-after but discontinued West Elm chairs on Marketplace at a low, low price and brought them home. He is very happy with himself, even though we now own too many chairs, and I can tell he is eyeing my pretty blue ones as the ones to go.

SIXTEEN CHAIRS, that's ridiculous

In January I started a new job:

Susie worked at our local Trader Joe's for two years before selfishly going off to college and living her own life, and I really missed that 20% discount we used to get. Also? I was sitting around all day scrolling the internet (not good) and waxing maudlin while gazing at pictures of my kids when they were little (downright pathetic, okay?). NOW, I work about 30 hours a week and get a ton more done around the house, because I have less time to do it in, and there's a psychological term for that but I've forgotten it.

Also, I get paid. I like having money, because I get to spend it on my grandkids.

Was that plural? Why, yes, yes it was - Rachel (RACHEL) gave birth in February to a very cute baby girl and OMG I had completely forgotten what a trainwreck those first few months could be. But we're finally at the point where she (the baby, not Rachel) does all the cute baby stuff, giggling and blowing raspberries and snuggling, and seriously, I have no memories of my babies before 5 months, apparently. NONE.

Our empty nest has a bunch of this stuff in it again

Rachel and the baby stayed with us for a few weeks in June while her husband was away on TDY and Larry and I helped out (minimally) with the baby and were COMPLETELY EXHAUSTED. I have no idea how we did all that SIX TIMES.

This cutie joins her 21-month-old cousin, who has adorable little pigtails on top of her head (that droop in the humidity, and really, aren't we all just like those pigtails?) and I have never so badly wanted to post people photos on this blog, but Larry's rule holds firm (also, my kids wouldn't let me, either, oh well).

Let's start calling the older grandbaby Olivia and her little cousin can be Sissy, since I can't just say "the grandbaby" anymore. Wow, I haven't had to make up blog names in a very long time, that's weird.

This isn't the beach, it's THE SHORE, because New Jersey

Earlier in June, Larry and I rented a beach house for a week on LBI and several adult children consented to join us, including Rachel and spouse and newest grandbaby, and it was actually pleasant because I wasn't responsible for anyone's happiness but my own (which, after all those years of vacationing/camping with kids, still feels quite novel and refreshing). Also, adult children on budgets naturally tend to appreciate a free vacation more than dependent children/teens do, so that's nice

Obligatory sunset-over-the-bay photo

Next week? We are flying to the Seattle area and visiting Olympic National Park. This is happening because during one of our heatwaves in June, I pretty much snapped and dropped a boatload of money on airline tickets and an Airbnb, and I'm glad I did, because it gave me something to look forward to through all the subsequent heatwaves in July.

I cannot wait to leave this weather behind for a week, I feel as though I am living in the armpit of hell. Predicted weather for our vacation is 50s and 60s, so I guess I'll need to bring a parka or something, which is fine by me.

David is meeting us at the park, but we will NOT be doing the mountains with him, having learned our lesson last year. We're hitting the beach trails instead, and - considering the West is definitely another planet - I'm sure we'll find those challenging enough. Wish me luck!

In Which I Say "Chairs" Way Too Much

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Tue, 31 Dec 2024 04:21:00 +0000

Ah, let us chat once more before we close the books on this stupidly crazy year! Let's see, there was a plane trip, and COVID, and lots of failed job interviews, and new-boobs surgery and recovery, my discovery of the West, a typically humid summer, a trip to Acadia (wait, did Larry and I actually travel 3 times this year?), Rachel's wedding (still can't quite believe that one), and the advent of our empty nest.

Folks, it's been a lot, really. And to usher out the year in the appropriate fashion, some rogue virus decided to try to finish me off, so I ended up in bed on Christmas Eve, shivering and ache-y and coughing, while the merriment continued unabated below. A shout out to my girls, who stepped up and made sure breakfast was prepped and dishes were cleaned, etc., all while I lay upstairs and prayed I wouldn't die on Christmas Day, because wouldn't that be sort of a bummer?

What Santa brought me

I'm still coughing and trying to make sure this thing doesn't turn into pneumonia, but I'm doing better than I was. I'm disappointed, though, because the week between Christmas and New Year's is supposed to be fun, and all I have done is lie around and take Mucinex and Sudafed and cough a lot. No cold weather hikes, no trips to the movie theater, NOTHING - just me and my bag of cough drops watching Nobody Wants This on Netflix and scrolling through Instagram. Oh, and I read a book, so I guess my brain isn't totally gone yet, yay.

Also, the house is full of holiday cookies and candy and I don't even feel like eating them. If that's not alarming, I don't know what is.

*coughing break*

Halloween happened, do cast your eyes upon my Candy Charcuterie creation:

In November we found a beautiful (and free) dining room table on Buy Nothing, so we gave away our pockmarked old IKEA dining table and its five remaining rickety chairs to someone else and I would be lying if I said I didn't feel a pang of regret watching those decrepit but well-loved pieces of furniture being carried out my front door.

So many Thanksgivings and Christmases and birthdays celebrated at that table! I had to bid a fond farewell to the firmly entrenched family ritual of checking the chairs before everyone sat down - you know, to make sure the rungs were firmly seated and wouldn't give way? It was a treasured tradition, and honestly I sort of missed it this past Thanksgiving.

Of course, that left us down 5 chairs, and we were already short 4 chairs in the kitchen. You see, we had given away our other IKEA set (a black round table with self-storing leaf and six black chairs) to Theo and his wife last June, because I was tired of all that black in the kitchen and a neighbor had offered me her round white table instead. So we have the new (used) white table in the kitchen (with a leaf we have to lug upstairs from the guest room closet), along with 2 chairs that I got for free that are a style I adore (chrome with padded seats), only the padding is ripped on the sides.

I LOVE it, but yeah, the stuffing is coming out

Larry was probably wondering at this point why I had traded down on the kitchen furniture, and I really don't have an answer for that. Except I was tired of all the black, did I mention that?

Anywhoo, there we were, with 2 tables and 2 chairs, which wasn't an ideal situation, especially 2 weeks before Thanksgiving. So we started looking for chairs: Craigslist, Marketplace, all the online stores. But here's the problem - it turns out that Larry and I have very differing expectations for chairs. To sum it up, he likes ugly ones, and I don't. I could go into more detail, but really, that's it.

So, in the interests of preserving our marriage, we narrowed our search to chairs we could both tolerate (in the meantime borrowing a couple of chairs from Rachel to tide us over, chairs I found for her on Buy Nothing last year that just happen to go PERFECTLY with my new dining room table, but I digress). We did manage to find four bucket chairs locally, used, that we can tolerate for both the kitchen and the dining room:

And yes, they ARE black. I really wanted bucket chairs that would provide a fun pop of color, but it turns out Larry isn't a fun pop of color type of guy. Who knew?

Feeling sort of desperate at this point, we decided to bite the bullet, as it were, and buy brand new the same chairs Rachel has, but it turned out West Elm had stopped selling them. So we bought something somewhat similar from Wayfair and they arrived and neither of us really liked them and we sent those back (because when we're paying full price for chairs, we are way pickier than when they are free). Hey, at least we agreed on something, right?

What I am trying to say is that this stupid chair search CONSUMED us for two solid weeks (again, Thanksgiving was approaching and WE NEEDED CHAIRS), and we got sort of nowhere. We ended up borrowing the rest of Rachel's chairs and telling our neighbors that Thanksgiving would be a BYOChair event this year. They totally rolled with it, God bless them.

We were having 16 people for Thanksgiving, and I did my typical slow-roll holiday prep for the holiday, so things could be nice and relaxed and we could all enjoy ourselves, even if we didn't have anywhere to sit. I took it one step further this year by buying PRECUT bread cubes at Whole Foods, so prepping the stuffing was a breeze, comparatively speaking.

Best thing since, uh, sliced bread

Things were looking good: I got the desserts and cranberry sauce done on Tuesday (no apple(sauce) pie this year), and I rose bright and early Wednesday to tackle the stuffing, secure in the knowledge that only a natural disaster could wreck our holiday at this point. Planning is important. Planning prevents chaos. I'm a planner, and I had this down, chairs or no chairs.

So tell me, dear reader, does a broken dishwasher count as a natural disaster? Because that's right, THE DAY BEFORE THANKSGIVING, my dishwasher decided to stop draining. Larry - who's usually the "call the repairman" type - spent 2 hours watching YouTube videos in an attempt to fix it himself, because we both knew we weren't going to be seeing a repairman until after the holiday. But the dishwasher refused to yield to Larry's desperate ministrations, and we had to face the fact that our nice relaxed holiday was going to be replaced with one where I was haranguing the kids to wash dishes and not use any extra forks. Not quite the laidback vibe I was looking for, you know?

As a result, I'm not sure our neighbors will want to come back next year, even though I DID return their chairs. We've still got a couple of Rachel's, though. You know, just until we find something else. Yeah, that's it...

It's Finally Fall, Y'All

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Wed, 23 Oct 2024 00:00:00 +0000

I do not understand how we can be closing in on the END of 2024. I mean, what the heck?

Gratuitous Acadia picture, why not?

July and August here were typically humid and hot and full of mosquitoes and OMG someone shoot me if I don't come up with a plan to get out of here for at least 3 weeks next summer, okay? There's nothing like having to put on mosquito repellent as soon as you get up because a mosquito that sneaked into the house last night is still there somewhere and IT WILL FIND YOU while you try to eat breakfast and make some tea and just generally start your day.

September was less humid but still filled with mosquitoes, but that didn't stop us from holding a lovely and very lowkey outdoor wedding (YES A WEDDING) for Rachel, who - if you will just glance over at that sidebar there - is 22 now and legally allowed to get married, although I know you all will agree with me that that is just ridiculous because wasn't she just 9 or so?

Wedding cake, yum

Luckily, she grew into a young woman with a very sensible take on weddings - she opted to rent a local park pavilion and have food catered by a BBQ truck owner and order a reasonably priced dress online. Susie did the table decorations (flowers from Trader Joe's artfully arranged in mason jars) and created a playlist, and we dug up a working bluetooth speaker and ordered tablecloths/paper plates etc. from Amazon. Even more astonishing than the fact that Rachel has become a married woman is that absolutely EVERYTHING went as planned and the weather was lovely and all the siblings managed to show up for the occasion.

Seriously, where is the blog material in THAT?

Before the wedding Larry and I headed up to Acadia National Park and camped for a week on that lovely island or peninsula or whatever it is and hiked and biked (which was hell, because I hadn't really biked for two years, what with surgeries and such) and ate doughnuts and generally acted like the carefree empty nesters that we now are.

Another Acadia view, we had to work for this one

Empty nesters? Why, yes, yes we are - Susie (THE BABY) transferred to a state university this past August and left Larry and I sitting around our (now) reasonably spacious townhouse wondering what the hell happened to the last 32 years or so. Folks, it is simply shocking. Also? A relief, because honestly we are feeling quite old and tired at this point.

The house being full for the wedding mid-September, the delightful empty-nestedness of our situation did not hit us until a few weeks ago. And then I got to go cat sit for Brian in Philly, which was also delightful, because I essentially had a free Airbnb complete with HBO Max; and because I hadn't paid any money for my lodgings, I didn't feel as if I had to make the most of my time by seeing all the local sights.

Instead, I spent a few of the most deliciously carefree days I have had in over 3 decades, hanging out with a cat and knitting and (finally) watching Hacks, all while NOT feeling like there was something else I needed to be doing at the moment. Is this how everyone else feels on regular vacations? I'm jealous.

Everyone meet Truffle, my grandkitty

I also met up with an old college friend who lives in Philly and whom I hadn't seen in 36 years. Now, this could have gone sort of badly, so I braced myself for the awkwardness of meeting up with someone who could essentially have become a perfect stranger. But instead? It was a perfect afternoon, one where it felt that no time at all had passed since 1988; and it was made even better when he pulled out a photo album full of pictures of us and our friends from our college days.

People, I have absolutely zero pictures of myself between the ages of 15 and 27. Nothing. Zip. Nada. I didn't own a camera, most of my friends didn't, either, and also, in case you don't remember, people back then just didn't take a heck of a lot of pictures, not unless they were on vacation or at a special event. Seeing these photos was like meeting an older version of myself, someone I had pretty much forgotten over the ensuing decades.

Naturally, I scanned in some of the photos and sent them to the kids with a "See? I had friends and we all had FUN" comment; but truth to tell, our version of fun looks rather antiquated compared to what my concert-going, air-travel-savvy offspring are doing today. I mean, there were pictures of us dressed up for Halloween while serving food at the university dining hall (I had cat ears) and pictures of a birthday party we held for my friend one year, complete with a homemade cake and balloons and not much else. In my kids' eyes, we might as well have been having a taffy pull or riding horse-drawn sleighs, I guess.

What my kids picture my youthful fun to be like

But it was OUR fun and I am so glad to remember it, because sometimes I get too focused on the immediate present (essentially jobless, empty nest, getting older - have I ever mentioned I'm sort of negative?) instead of pulling back and getting a bit more perspective on my life as a whole.

(Anyone else mentally flashing to Clarence the angel saying, "You really did have a wonderful life, George..."? No, just me? Okay, I'm a bit obsessed with that movie, just carry on)

So yes, this month I went to a new city where I enjoyed a smashing do-nothing vacation AND reclaimed my youth. Pretty good for just the price of a train ride, isn't it?

Travels With Old People

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Sat, 24 Aug 2024 02:59:00 +0000

Well! I seem to have inadvertently taken the summer off from writing, but I blame the humidity. I've been blaming the humidity for pretty much everything the past few months, come to think of it.

For my birthday in June, however, Larry and I got on a plane (AGAIN) and flew to Seattle to visit newly retired friends and also to see David in his natural habitat.

I had THE nicest socks in the TSA line, thank you

Now, we all know that David is a typically taciturn engineer (although with a smashingly deadpan sense of humor, I must say), but he outdid himself this time. I carefully selected an Airbnb and sent him the location to see if it was a safe area and he texted back yes, that it was a decent location to stay in, and AT NO POINT in our discussion did he mention that it was a mere 3 blocks from where he lives. There was no "Yes, that's perfect, you can walk to my place!" or "Yes, totally safe, I LIVE RIGHT THERE," nothing like that.

So we were pleasantly surprised, is what I'm saying, when we reached our lodgings and figured things out.

But first we rented a car and drove west and north from Seattle to see our retired friends, who live in a place that felt as though it were at the northern reaches of the world. The air was so clear! The pines smelled so...pine-y! The snowcapped Olympic mountains loomed in the distance while water surrounded us on the other side! Having just escaped a typical DC heat wave, with its concomitant humidity, Larry and I kept exclaiming in wonder, "The sun is warm, but the air is cool!" over and over, like the pathetic climate refugees that we were.

Mountains! Water! No humidity!

I cannot emphasize enough the importance of having friends who retire to marvelous places.

We sat on their lovely deck, where we were NOT swarmed by mosquitoes, and they drove us to beautiful views of water and mountains, and we ate at a marvelous lunch stand that sold only hotdogs. It was as if we had escaped from the circles of hell (forgive the hyperbole, but OMG have you been in DC in the summer?) and found ourselves in the Elysian fields.

Confluence of Puget Sound and the Strait of Juan de Fuca, in case you couldn't tell

After a few days, we joined David in Seattle. David had planned a hike on Mt. Rainier for my birthday, which entailed our getting up at 4:30 in the morning -- on my BIRTHDAY -- and driving 5000 feet up to the visitor center starting point.

"Where's the trail?" I asked, getting out of the car and praying I wouldn't get a migraine from the altitude.

"There," David said, pointing.

"Um, where?"

"There, under the snow," he explained.

Snow. On my birthday. Which was sort of neat, considering my birthday is the first day of summer, but OMG have you ever hiked in snow? Luckily, David had some spiky things I could fit on the bottom of my boots, without which I wouldn't have made it more than 10 yards; still, I couldn't help concluding after an hour or so that he and his siblings had decided that 61 was old enough and it was time to just leave me on an ice floe somewhere.

My ice floe - at least it's scenic, right?

Also, apparently mountains out west are VERY HIGH. Even though we set out at 5000 feet, we still weren't going anywhere near the top. There were ridiculously majestic views everywhere, so I guess that didn't matter, but there was also nowhere to really sit down on our hike and take a break while enjoying those views. "Where are the rocks?" I kept asking, "I need to sit DOWN," and finally, about halfway back down, David explained, "They're under the snow," as though I should have known that all along, and then, seeing my confusion, he explained further, "The snow is VERY DEEP."

Folks, I thought we were walking on maybe 8 inches of packed-down snow that hadn't melted yet. But David took out some handy dandy hiker's measuring tool and demonstrated that we were walking on top of about 7 feet of snow and I cannot even describe what that did to my brain.

"So, there are BIG rocks under here?" I asked, trying to wrap my head around this new info and also trying not to panic at the thought of all that snow.

"Yes," he said, and then gestured to what I had been referring to as the tiny trees all around us. "Those are treeTOPS," he said, and then stared quizzically at me as I sort of flipped out. I swear to God, the West is simply a whole other planet.

Typical majestic view, ho-hum

So that was my birthday, and I survived, but I felt about 80 years old by the end of it. The next two hikes David took us on were progressively shorter, thank goodness, as he gradually realized that he had aging parents visiting him. Still, shorter is a relative term. First we hiked 2.5 miles UP (which means we also had to hike 2.5 miles DOWN) to see a mountain lake shrouded in fog and surrounded by snow-covered pines and looking exactly like the place Eustace turns into a dragon in The Dawn Treader (sorry, folks, IYKYK). Another day we hiked 2 miles UP (AGAIN) to some famous falls, the last part of the hike being about 9 flights of stairs, essentially, and even all my years of townhouse living did not prepare me for that sort of a test (see above re feeling 80).

Here there be dragons...

We also ate ice cream and wandered around Seattle and I did my best to act like a carefree tourist, but that really doesn't come naturally to me. Also, I needed naps. So it was more like Larry was hauling around a cranky 3-year-old half the time. Or a cranky 80-year-old, really...

The trip was marvelous and exhausting and went pretty much according to plan, which is a real shocker, actually, and boy we hated to leave that gorgeous weather and boy did we need to come home and just lie down for a spell. I think I like traveling, but it sure is exhausting.

And I'll leave you with that, even though there is more to tell (like all of July and August, but hey...), because I am currently suffering from a sinus infection and the medicine they gave me is making me feel puke-y and I need to go email the doctor and try to get something else, good Lord I sound old, don't I?

Checking In

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Tue, 18 Jun 2024 04:00:00 +0000

Many thanks to those of you who reached out wondering how things are going after my surgery! The procedure went smoothly, although the nice young medical tech who took me back to pre-op and asked me what I was going into surgery for looked a tad taken aback when I announced, "I'm getting new boobs!" in a manic sort of way.

Strawberry season! Takes the sting out of post-op, it does...

Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking this wasn't "real" surgery, because they were adding something, not taking something away like the last two times. This, my friends, was a really dumb assumption. Granted, things didn't hurt for as long as they did after last year's boobectomy, but I still couldn't use either arm to push myself up from a lying-down position, I couldn't knit for long because somehow that irritated the stitches, I couldn't do DuoLingo on my phone without ending up in pain, and - quite frankly - there isn't much else to do when you are supposed to be lying around and convalescing.

So I was pretty cranky for a while there. Somewhere along the second week post-op, I sat up most of the night crying because I was doomed to spending the rest of my life in unceasing discomfort; but then I went to sleep around 5:30 AM and woke up at 9 feeling just fine. It's always darkest before the dawn, I guess.

The week before the surgery, I intuited that our washer was about to break (something about the fact that we had to keep nudging it along during the wash cycle and it was taking us hours to finish a load), so I expeditiously ordered a new set from Home Depot to be delivered the Saturday before I got my new boobs, so everything would go smoothly. And I decided to save money: electric dryers are cheaper than gas dryers, so I ordered an electric one this time.

Sure enough, the next day our valiant washer gave up the ghost, as it were, but there was no need to panic - we could surely manage 2 days until the new one arrived. Good thing I was so proactive! Yay, me! Proactive and thrifty!

After 48 hours of my patting myself on the back, the delivery guys arrived with our new appliances and informed us that they couldn't hook anything up because they weren't authorized to disconnect a gas dryer. They also told us we needed an electrician to put the right type of outlet in for the new electric dryer.

In short, things were NOT going to go smoothly, after all.

Laundromat-core, it's our new vibe

So then we had to pay for our HVAC guy AND an electrician to show up, which means I was not really seeing those anticipated cost savings of going with the electric dryer. I'll give Larry some credit here, he has said NOTHING, but this whole situation? It is costing me an untold number of marriage points.

Theo and wife and baby have been here for the past couple of weeks, because they are between leases, and it has been fun to have a baby in the house again, especially when I am not the one obligated to get up all night to feed and change her. The baby does insist we pick her up and keep her on the move, though, as she cannot quite get around on her own yet. One day, while her parents worked from our house, I racked up 24,000 steps BY NOON, just walking her around and around the neighborhood, which excess of activity almost killed me.

Babies are adorable but exhausting, is what I'm saying, and I have no idea how I managed to raise 6 of them. I feel very, very old.

In other exciting news, I completely remade my bedroom by buying a new duvet cover and pillowcases. Cheapest makeover ever, highly recommend.

Colorful! Cheery!

Coming soon: Susie (MY BABY) will be leaving for college, making us officially empty nesters. Larry and I will fly to the Pacific Northwest to see David in his natural habitat. Peach jam-making is also planned, which I know makes for riveting copy. Stay tuned!

Boobapalooza

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Mon, 22 Apr 2024 07:34:00 +0000

Whew, 5 months! That's my longest gap yet - I guess this blog is slowly seeing itself out. That's okay - everything good must end sometime.

But not yet!

I'm up late tonight because I'm not scheduled to go in for my new-boobs surgery until almost noon tomorrow (well, now that's today, really). I figure it's better to go to bed late and sleep in, rather than get up with the sun and sit around and wait and NOT EAT ANYTHING. That makes sense, right?

Medicinal, guess why

New boobs, guys! I was scheduled for early February but lost that surgery date due to COVID, which was sort of a blow. But hey, it's warmer weather now, which means I'll be able to wear my wonderful pajamas during convalescence without freezing to death. Silver lining!

And Larry doesn't have a broken collarbone this time - bonus!

[My inner Pollyanna is obviously working overtime here. It's a compulsion of sorts, I guess.]

But enough about my boob surgery, let's talk about being unemployed, because that's fun, too. You know, you'd think it would be easy to remain detached while applying to one or two jobs a week for, oh, MORE THAN THREE YEARS, but after a while? The whole process does bad things to your psyche, zero stars, do not recommend. Still, in January, I finally landed 2 interviews, and I was all "Jackpot! Hurrah, my ship has come in! Persistence pays off!" and I was busy planning my schedule and eyeing my work wardrobe, because why not count ALL the chickens before they hatch, right?

Dear Reader, no one wanted me to work for them [insert sad trombone sound right here, thanks]. That, plus the surgery being postponed (THANKS COVID), sorta broke me, so I've been sitting here mostly moping and knitting for, oh, 3 months now. Also, buying more yarn with all the money I'm NOT going to be earning, which makes a heck of a lot of sense, I know.

Pictured: FIVE knitting projects, all at once

But hey, it's only a matter of time before me and my new boobs will be making our way back into the job market and I'm sure we will just be killing it out there, no problem. In the meantime, I've still got my one shift a week at the Container Store, which is more like being paid to go to the gym with friends, what with all the lifting of boxes and carrying of boxes and climbing ladders and talking we do -- so much so that I pretty much forget I HAVE a job of sorts.

It really is a ridiculous amount of fun, except for the getting up at 4 AM part. Yeah, 4 AM, ouch.

So what else is happening? Well, there's a grandbaby of mine out there who is doing an excellent job of getting fatter and learning to make cute baby noises, and aren't you happy now that this blog has always had a "no personal pictures" policy? No danger of my spamming you all with dozens and dozens of baby photos, whew!

Theo and his wife quite rudely kidnapped my grandchild to Florida for 3 whole months this past winter by using a combination of parental leave and remote work, KIDS THESE DAYS, so we didn't get to enjoy her much until they came back in March. Larry and I (thinking I'd be having surgery in February) did hop on a plane and fly down to see her for a few days in January, and as Larry buckled in he said, "This is weird - I'm not on business and no one is dying." And I said, "You know what is weirder? We've never flown together before, ever."

So there we were, Ma and Pa Kettle, getting on a plane JUST FOR FUN as though we were fancy folk or something. Seriously, it was hard to wrap our heads around the whole concept.

At least we didn't try to take the auto train, right? So that's progress.

Florida has weird signs

Florida was disappointingly chilly, but we stayed in a cute Airbnb walking distance to town and to a really good BBQ place, and we saw the baby, so we considered the whole trip worth it until I started coming down with COVID the day we flew home (apologies to the nice gentleman sitting next to my double-masked self on the plane).

Judging from the photos on my phone, it seems that Christmas did indeed happen here, complete with a tree and food (including cranberry bread, of course) and presents. I vaguely recall an unfortunate almost-incident between Anna's dog and Uncle Matt's dog, but things were otherwise festive.

Anna has no rules against posting doggo photos, I believe

I bought a gingerbread house kit for a Christmas Day activity but no one here wanted to be fun, so I hung on to it for 3 months until I could convince a neighbor to take it. I told her that she could tell her kids it was the Easter Bunny's house. I mean, sort of, right? Just squint a little...

Throw some jellybeans on that roof and you're set

Okay, great to type at you again, but it's already 3:30 AM, which is insane. Good night, all, and see you on the other side (I hope)!

A Rather Anticlimactic Reveal

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Fri, 01 Dec 2023 04:30:00 +0000

Random fall photo, why not?

For months, I have held a secret close to my (recently remodeled) chest, but I whiled away that time by devising with my writerly brain the best way to eventually tell you all about it. Bury the lead? Make fun of my age? Wonder at the passing of time? Or all of the above?

Yeah, maybe that last one.

But then everything went sideways, and this blog was the last thing on my mind, as I was busy cooking food and taking it to the hospital for a couple of traumatized new parents. Plus? I had no energy to write, since it was taking all that energy to suppress any thought of how the heck could I comfort a grown child of mine through the unthinkable, if things continued going sideways.

But they didn't, the world (or my world, anyway) righted itself, thanks be to God: Theo and his wife (no blog name, STILL?) managed - after a harrowing 19 days - to bring home a (finally) bouncing baby girl, who has the sweetest voice and prettiest eyes and seems to harbor no ill will toward them for all the poking and prodding and other indignities she was subjected to during the first few weeks of her life.

I'm a grandmother, y'all. How the heck did that happen?

No baby pics allowed here, so instead the blanket and hats I knit for her

Oddly enough, grandmother life feels largely like pre-grandmother life, so far, since the baby is too little to read Sandra Boynton books to or play at the park with; the most fun, instead, has been watching my own child turn into a dad who now walks around saying things like "I'm sure glad we have good insurance" and who spends all his spare time cooing at his baby and taking pictures to post on the family chat.

At some point the siblings are probably going to tell him to stop with the photos already, but not just yet - last month was too scary, so Theo gets a pass for now. FOR NOW.

A neighbor brought Larry and I a gift to celebrate our new status:

Subtle, right?

Whenever I see those mugs, I think, "What are those doing here in my house?" and then I remember. This whole thing is going to take some getting used to, folks...

And...Thanksgiving happened! Do I have photos of the entire family (minus Rachel, who went on a super-excellent girls weekend instead) gathered for the holiday? I DO NOT. Instead, mostly all I have are pictures of Brussels sprouts and pies and I think cranberry bread, because you know the first thing my grown grandchildren will say to their parents will be "Gosh, I hope we have pictures of baked goods to go in this family album I'm putting together for posterity."

And yes, my precious (and mostly theoretical) descendants, you will - a camera roll full, it seems:

Good ol' Uncle Cranberry Bread, showed up for every Thanksgiving

Insides were disappointingly mushy, total fail, no one wants applesauce pie

This is actually an action shot, as I was cooking them at the time

And that was our Thanksgiving, with most of the kids arriving last minute (which made it more exciting but left the cooking primarily to me) and staying briefly, since they have their own lives and their own pets to get back to and all that. I took Thanksgiving Day off and let everyone else finish the cooking, so the arrangement really wasn't that bad, actually. But I've already planned takeout and cookies for Christmas, that's it, no muss no fuss. I'M DONE.

Ain't No Sunshine When I'm Gone

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Thu, 05 Oct 2023 14:16:00 +0000

Nothing more terrifying than a blank page, people, which may be why I missed a September update. Or maybe it's because nothing happened here except more of the same, so why bother? Or maybe I just misplaced my sense of humor, for no particular reason. I mean, I misplace my phone and my glasses constantly, so it would make sense I could lose other things, too.

Also managed to lose one of the handknit mitts from this set 😢

Whatever, here's what's been going on, in no particular order:

Larry and I made our annual trek up to Acadia National Park in September. We dragooned Anna and Brian (self-sufficient adults who live in a different city, so obviously they were just humoring us) into going with us, promising beautiful views and magnificent sunsets and all that.

Or...maybe not

Please understand, Larry and I have been taking various members of the family up to Acadia for YEARS now, camping, staying in rental cottages, whatever, and it has ALWAYS been pretty much picture perfect weather, no matter when we go: August, September, October, maybe a rainy day here or there, but nothing to interfere with hiking and kayaking and biking.

Not that either of us was getting on a bike this year, but still...

This year, though, was true to form for 2023, I guess, as in not quite what we expected. Yup, it was cloudy and rainy almost the whole time we were up there. The rain was intermittent but frequent enough that anywhere we would want to climb to get to a view stayed wet and slippery (it's mostly granite there).

Wait, did I say "view"? There was no view, it was all gray sky and gray water, blending into each other in a very monochromatic way. We slogged through one wet hike near the beginning of the week and tried to ooh and aah over the misty non-vistas, but our hearts weren't really in it.

Yes, the rocks are pretty, but still...

Don't get me wrong, there was a lot to appreciate, but the mist and the drizzle just did not stop. I mean, you see one stand of pine trees shrouded in fog, you've seen them all, I guess.

Yeah, okay, this is pretty, too, I know

Midweek, in desperation, we took a shuttle bus to the top of Cadillac Mountain, thinking we could see something even if we didn't want to risk a hike on the still-wet rocks. But the only something(s) we saw were shadowy figures wandering around the ridge in the mist, looking for all the world like ghost hikers, haunting the foggy mountaintops and searching in vain for a view.

Hike of the Damned, amirite?

Reader, we joined them. We marched around in the misty drizzle, pretending we were having fun until it started pouring rain again and we had to share the shuttle back down the mountain with 10 very soggy and sweaty people who had managed to hike up before the downpour. Zero stars, do not recommend.

And then? Friday dawned, heartbreakingly gorgeous, bright sun and cool air and bright blue water everywhere you looked, true Acadia weather:

FRIDAY

But we couldn't take advantage of it, because we had to leave a day early to avoid

....*checks notes*...

A HURRICANE?

Yes, apparently a hurricane was heading straight for the distinctly nontropical little peninsula we were vacationing on, so that was that. Home we went.

And the above is probably why I couldn't write in September, I knew I would just whine about our vacation plans gone awry, which sounds so utterly spoiled, I know. Also, this is why I never want to spend money to fly all the way to Europe (which, judging from Facebook and Instagram, absolutely everyone else in the world has done in the past 6 months): what if the weather is bad, or I can't get over jetlag, or I JUST DON'T LIKE IT?

Also, I want to go see interesting places, but I also want to sleep in my own bed at the same time. This attitude presents a major obstacle to travel, I know. I'm working on it.

Earlier, in August, we held a birthday party for Rachel (Remember? Stuffed-animal decapitating Rachel?), who was turning 21 and does not seem to have retained any of her youthful terrorist tendencies. She likes dinosaurs, so we celebrated in an appropriate manner:

Filled with air, not candy - I never did like the pinata scene

Look, we tried, okay?

And at some other point in August, I gained an entire closet, because Larry loaded up the van with all of Brian's Legos that we stored for him all through college and drove them up to Philadelphia, where he somewhat unceremoniously deposited the zillions of plastic bricks in Brian's new apartment, which is very modernist in an industrial sort of way (it's in a refurbished munitions factory) and looks for all the world like he's living in a Chipotle.

When I say "entire closet," I am not exaggerating

I managed to stick the outdoor folding chairs and some bike equipment in my newly acquired storage space before Larry filled the rest with things like kayak and canoe paddles. I didn't really want to share, but I like staying married, and hey, at least they're not lying around my guest room or laundry room.

Also in August, Susie came home from her Americorps adventure (terrific FREE experience, highly recommend) and promptly moved into the basement guest room, so she could at least pretend she wasn't living with us this year while she does community college courses and plans her next steps. This worked out great for me, since she took all the junk Larry had been keeping in the guest room closet and unceremoniously dumped it onto the basement family room floor for him to deal with, something I never could have gotten away with (see above re staying married).

Susie also went back part time to Trader Joe's, so yay, we get to use her 20% discount once more. Happy days are here again, I hum softly to myself as I look upon our bounty of seasonal butternut squash mac-and-cheese and pumpkin biscotti. Combined with my 40% Container Store discount, we are living large, people, LIVING LARGE.

And, yay, I've gotten all the way through this post without whining about the boobapalooza I've been experiencing this summer! I feel almost normal, and I can twist lids off jars and pull out a heavily loaded dishwasher rack and do all the other things I never knew I needed my pectoral muscles for. No date set yet for removing the expanders and putting the implants in, but I've reconciled myself to the fact that, what with 2023 continuing to be 2023, the surgery is probably going to be messing up one major holiday or another.

Listen to me, being all zen about things! Maybe the surgeries this year have given me a fresh outlook on life, a new appreciation of the randomness of it all, a sense of carpe diem, as it were.

Or maybe I'm just prevaricating and am not zen about this at all.

Yeah, that's it, that's definitely it.

Not-So-Hot Girl Summer

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Thu, 10 Aug 2023 00:05:00 +0000

Hi! It's August! Time flies when all you're doing is sitting around in your nice pajamas and messing with yarn.

A commenter on the last post wanted to know the ONE NEAT TRICK to make your tomato plants not look spindly and pathetic. What I learned from somewhere on the internet this past spring is that when you transplant your seedlings (or, in my case, the plants I bought from the farmers market), you dig a shallow, foot-long trench and then lay the first 10-12 inches of your tomato plant right in it and cover it with dirt.

That's right, just bury that stem, even if you are covering up some of the bottom leaves. Apparently, the entire length of the buried stem is capable of growing roots, so the plant establishes a much better root system that can take in more nutrients and water.

IT WORKED

That's probably the most (the only?) useful thing anyone will have learned from reading my 16 (SIXTEEN) years' worth of blogging. YOU'RE WELCOME.

My recovery is progressing along in fits and starts, and yay I no longer have tubes coming out of my body, because those were really freaking me out. I'm doing my fun little post-mastectomy exercise routines I found on YouTube and walking to the store and running up the stairs so I can pretend I'm getting some aerobic exercise. Olympics, here I come!

I've also been pulling out all my yarn and strewing it everywhere, in an attempt to figure out what to make with it. The yarn situation could explain why I haven't blogged in 3 weeks, since I hate sitting at a messy desk and what do you know?

Yarn-covered desk

MORE yarn on desk

It's interfering with my muse, is what it is.

But I am working on socks (because, as always, WINTER IS COMING) and also my latest fave: the Stephen West Botanic Shawl. Now, Stephen West usually designs super-complicated, enormous patterns that take a lot of effort and brain power, so I have never knit anything of his, even though he is a very popular designer with the knitting community.

I'm a lazy knitter, is what I'm saying.

But this particular pattern happens to be simple, so I ponied up the money and bought the pattern and now I can carelessly say things like "Oh, I'm just working on my Stephen West shawl" like all the cool knitters do.

I'm a Stephen West knitter now

Let's see, what else have I been doing?

I've canned some peach jam

I've eaten my weight in these things, OMG, SO GOOD

I've also managed to cement my new 60-is-the-new-80 status by acquiring a handy little shopping cart to pull to the stores with me, since it's been too hard to tote a full bag of groceries over my shoulder lately:

Isn't it cunning? I LOVE IT

So really, that's all I've got for you: gardening, knitting, canning, pulling my little cart to the grocery store. It's been my Old Lady Summer, and I must say, I am ROCKING that vibe. But I'm returning to work this week, so I guess this weird little time-travel interlude of the past few months will have to come to an end.

I mean, unless I'm stuck here. Which, truth to tell, certainly wouldn't be the worst of all possible worlds...

60 Is The New 80

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Tue, 11 Jul 2023 19:16:00 +0000

Still staying alive and all that, but also staying away from the computer the last 3 weeks because all I would have written would have been a whinefest of boredom and lack of sleep and weird pain and steeling myself to look in the mirror in the morning when I take my shower.

Fun, right?

I also went through a weird phase where I stopped knitting and took up crochet, but I think that's all behind me now. I blame the anesthesia.

I cannot lie, I did this

Also? This. I know, it's alarming

Luckily, a friend thought to give me a very lovely and presentable set of pajamas right before this surgery, so I could lounge around and recuperate without feeling like total trash. People, this was the SMARTEST GIFT EVER, considering I really have to work to get myself showered by noon, and I feel way better than if I were sitting around in a ratty old shirt and some yoga pants. Seriously, GIVE PEOPLE NICE PAJAMAS.

Happily, now I'm at the point where - for a few hours at a time, anyway - I feel almost normal (or will, once the doctor finally okays taking the last two drainage tubes out of my body, ew, yuck), and I have put away the crochet hooks and gone back to knitting socks and baby blankets, as the good Lord intended. I even walked all the way to the store this morning (for more Tylenol, but still...), and I might attempt to cook dinner tonight, so Larry and I don't have to dip into the strategic lasagna reserve we now have in the freezer.

So many lasagnas, and we were grateful for ALL of them

My birthday (60!) came and went, and I'll admit it didn't feel as though I was at my finest, even while wearing my fancy PJs. Still, people dropped off cards and presents, and they also dropped off get well cards and presents, until it got to the point where I felt a tad miffed if there was a day when no one stopped by with a wee little giftie or some alluring baked good. Spoiled, I am, by this point...

Larry found the perfect birthday card, considering the circumstances

My knitter friends brought yarn, of course

And handmade knitting totes

And David came to visit for a week and assist with meals and help move Rachel into her new apartment, since Larry was still on the injured list. He seemed a bit disconcerted by how decrepit we both were but managed not to talk about assisted living homes or senior communities while he was here. No idea what he texted on the sibling chat, though...

Luckily, we got the container garden on our back deck up and running the weekend before Larry threw himself off his bike, so we've got basil and tomatoes and parsley and one very overachieving mint plant. We were a little puzzled as to why the basil plants at the top of our tower garden seemed a tad stunted, until one morning we caught a squirrel sitting happily in the watering trough up top and nibbling away at the leaves.

Squirrel breakfast buffet, apparently

I planted the tomatoes a new way this year that has made them look like other people's tomato plants and not like the spindly specimens I usually end up with. They are producing like crazy, and I go out on the deck every day in my fancy pajamas and harvest some more. Because I'm an old lady now and can be as eccentric a gardener as I like, I suppose...

These are quite yum

Last Saturday, Larry and I, determined to try to have some fun this summer, staggered out to the movies to see Indiana Jones. Now, I haven't been to the movie theater since March of 2020, and back then I just went to our local one that I could walk to, which was nothing fancy. So Larry and I were taken aback to see that there were...waiters?...who would come take food orders and such at our seats. And there were cards you could stick in the rail of the table in front of you if you wanted something or just wanted to rat out the loud talker in the row behind you (which, come on, maybe just tell him to shut up yourself? What's wrong with people?).

It was a bit disorienting, is what I'm saying. And then the actors we actually knew in the film looked SO OLD. Which sort of corroborated how old we've been feeling lately, so it was not reassuring.

Good movie, though, and then Larry and I had dinner outside at Big Buns, where he always orders a regular size burger and a beer and I get the kids' meal and we split my fries, and who's getting old, NOT US

Free drink with the kids' meal!

That's pretty much the most exciting day we've had lately. And then we went home and napped.

And, yay, the insurance company is paying to repair the car Rachel wrecked (there was a good chance they were just going to declare it totaled), and then Rachel had the temerity to suggest that - since now it's been in an accident - maybe we should lower our formerly agreed-upon price for selling it to her.

Kids say the darnedest things, you know?

Stayin' Alive

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Sun, 18 Jun 2023 18:27:00 +0000

Still here! The boobectomy was last Thursday, and I finally have enough energy to sit down at the computer. Up until now, any energy I had was directed at taking meds, deciding on where to nap, and thanking people for bringing food.

I get weepy with gratitude whenever someone shows up at our door with yet another edible treat. I think anesthesia makes me maudlin. Or maybe it's the meds...

SO MANY MEDS

Also, I keep having weird dreams about what my chest might look like now, because there is no flippin' way I am actually peeking under these bandages until I have to. The 4 (FOUR!) drainage tubes are bad enough for a squeamish person like myself to deal with at this point. Luckily Larry -- one-armed Larry -- is in charge of emptying them and writing down how many cc's of liquid are in each one, and if we were still homeschooling, this would totally be science lab for the kids.

Oh, and just to make sure that things were chaotic enough last week, Rachel managed to have a pretty serious fender bender 2 days before the surgery. With our car. Luckily she's all right, but Tuesday was pretty stressful, what with filing insurance claims, finding where the car was towed to, etc.

Maybe a little more than a fender bender

But hey, Rachel wasn't hurt and (Silver Lining Alert!) I didn't have as much time available to fret about the upcoming surgery. I said this to a friend, who promptly dubbed me "Pollyanna in Hell." She's not wrong.

And I am suddenly out of energy to sit up, so I am going to take myself to one of our napping couches and have yet another wee rest, delicate flower that I am...

Whoops!

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Mon, 12 Jun 2023 16:17:00 +0000

Hey! Still here, finally feeling back to normal, yay, just took 7 weeks post-surgery to get to this point. Of course it didn't help that at 3 weeks post-op, pretty much the day after the surgeon told me I could start resuming some normal activities, Larry decided to throw himself over the handlebars of his bicycle and break his collarbone.

OH YES HE DID

So, instead of easing back into the daily grind, I was suddenly the only person in the house who could do dishes, carry laundry (or at least drag it in a bag down the stairs), tie shoelaces (yes, it feels odd to be tying a pair of size 13 shoes for someone), and pretty much ANYTHING else you can imagine. Poor Larry's job was to hold his arm as still as possible in a sling for 2 weeks so he wouldn't make it worse and need surgery.

I'll tell you, it felt as if we had gone from two reasonably fit and capable middle-aged people to a couple of doddering senior citizens in what felt like a weird sort of science fiction time jump. And our grown kids got an all-too-clear picture of what would happen in another decade or two if they let us age in place in this house. I expect them to start taking us on tours of senior living communities any time now.

Anywhoo, Larry did a great job of holding his arm still, and he has mended enough that he can do dishes sloooowly and carry laundry in his left hand and manage to get it in the washer, so I am sure we will be JUST FINE when I have surgery again this week.

Yeah, that came up fast, didn't it?

But first Brian graduated from college (I got to drive while Larry sat grimacing in the passenger seat, trying not to be in pain), and then we had a family graduation party (exhausting) and then there was Susie's birthday but she got COVID so we postponed the party until last Saturday, which was the same day Larry managed to drive back down to Brian's college town so Brian could load up the car by himself with all his worldly possessions and then Larry managed to drive all the way back up, but guys? A broken collarbone, even one on the mend, is just exhausting and painful, and I sure as heck hope I never have to go through that myself.

We've managed to be festive, despite setbacks, we're so brave

SO FESTIVE

This would be the summer that we have 3 grown kids moving house, just when Larry cannot lift a single thing. Theo and his wife (SHE NEEDS A BLOG NAME, I KNOW) moved Brian to Philadelphia for us last weekend; Anna is rounding up her own crew of friends to move to Philly in July (look, that city is affordable, unlike most of the other ones around here); and luckily, Rachel will have her boyfriend and Theo and David (who will just happen to be visiting at that time) to help her move to her new place locally while I'm still laid up from surgery.

It's just...a lot, okay? I'm tired just thinking about it.

Susie departed for a summer Americorps program today, leaving Larry and I to our decrepit selves as empty nesters for 10 weeks. Will we have fun? NO. He'll be washing dishes sloooowly and left-handedly doing the laundry, and I will be recovering from surgery and trying to get used to having no boobs and I guess doing whatever post-op PT they tell me to do.

Oh, we had such plans! Even though we knew I'd be recuperating, Larry had joined a local paddlers association and was going to be out and about on weekends kayaking through the local waters; and then, at the end of the summer, we were going to head up to Acadia with the kayak on top of the camper van again, like last year, and he was going to paddle around up there while I would sit in peaceful solitude and knit.

Somehow, we don't think Larry will be up to lifting a 50-lb kayak over his head at the end of August, even if - as David suggested - he did want to paddle left-handedly in a circle.

David cracks me up sometimes.

I guess biking might be out, also.

This will most emphatically NOT be happening this year

So, yeah, the best-laid plans and all that, I know...at this point we just hope not to become any more decrepit, we're not asking for much, right?

In Which I Learn Surgery Is A Real Thing

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Wed, 26 Apr 2023 00:56:00 +0000

I kept meaning to pop in to drop a quick line saying I was okay after surgery, but every time I thought about sitting up and typing at the computer, I got tired, so here we are, 9 days later.

I'M OKAY

I guess I was just making this erroneous assumption that laparoscopic surgery wasn't "real" surgery and that I'd be bouncing around like normal by Day 4 post-op. In retrospect, this was really dumb. I think this is the first day that my core muscles feel as though they might be working properly again, and I have no idea why they were knocked out, since, well, it was LAPAROSCOPIC SURGERY and no one was slicing through all the muscles to get to the stuff they were taking out.

I just don't get it.

Vandals yarn bombed my home while I was in surgery

Anywhoo, I'm feeling somewhat normal now and a friend is coming by to take me for a very short real walk, now that I don't feel as though my stomach is falling out when I stand up, so that's good.

And everyone brought us food, which was really nice, because apparently anesthesia does a number on your brain and there's no way I would have told myself to eat without someone putting a plate of food right in front of me. Also, I kept repeating myself (FOR DAYS), to the point where my family would get worried looks on their faces while I was speaking.

Which isn't really fair, how am I supposed to remember what I said to whom? There were a bunch of people around and have I mentioned I had just had surgery?

Like, yarn bombed A LOT

The surgery itself was great, because they knocked me out before they even started rolling me out of pre-op and I had no idea and that's the way I like it, for sure. I did spend the next 3 or 4 days completely freaked out by the whole concept of surgery, though. I mean, it's weird, right?

I'M OKAY BUT FREAKED OUT

And, ha-ha, there's another surgery coming up. Yay. It's fine. Really.

Oh, and all the biopsies (because apparently they do those if your BRCA2 is mutated) came back clear/negative/however you say it. I feel very lucky.

I'M OKAY BUT FREAKED OUT BUT GRATEFUL

Also grateful for knitting friends who like to let me know they're thinking about me

And that's all I've got right now, because the brain is still somewhat addled and I still get a little tired sitting up, because apparently that is all core strength and who knew? Not me, that's for sure; apparently, I've got a lot to learn.

Surgery Eve, Yay

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Mon, 17 Apr 2023 02:38:00 +0000

Happy Surgery Eve! When next we meet, I will be missing a few body parts, but I wasn't using any of them anymore anyway, so there's that. I'm terrified, never having had surgery before, but I hear I'm unconscious during all this, so if I can just get to the point where they knock me out, things should be okay.

A bit of catch-up:

If any of you believe the adage "You can't go home again," I'm here to tell you that you are obviously NOT an aging Jew who is currently enjoying copious amounts of TempTee cream cheese slathered on matzoh.

Direct ticket to childhood, I swear

In other news, Theo and his wife (does she have a name yet here? WHY NOT?) were between apartments for a couple of weeks in March, so they stayed with us, which was delightful, but I still decided I needed a weekend off during all that (people are more likely to step up with the cooking efforts when I'm not here acting martyred), so I hopped into a car with 2 friends who were road tripping down to the Carolina FiberFest.

Because we knitters be crazy like that, I tell ya...

What with all the knitting I had gotten done during my stressful January and February, I decided I could justify buying new yarn. A lot of new yarn. SO MUCH new yarn. This was, of course, a lie, because there was plenty of yarn waiting for me at home, but hey, when in Rome (or, in this case, Raleigh)...

In my defense, I have plans for ALL of this

I won a door prize (that skein in front) and also another door prize (the black apron in the back). Apparently, my year of being lucky continues. For the knitters among you, from left to right, this yarn is going to become a Depth Cowl, a Bennet Sister Shawl (my planned post-op knitting), a birthday present (sshhh...), and another Pure Joy scarf, like the one I knit last month, only in blue.

See? Plans.

I enjoyed my own hotel room for 2 nights; I also enjoyed not worrying about what anyone (including myself) was going to eat, for 3 entire days. And I don't think anyone at home missed me one bit, which is good but which also made me feel a tad miffed.

I'm a complicated person, I guess. Or just plain fickle. "Complicated" sounds more interesting, though, doesn't it?

Spring did its thing in March:

Cherry trees showing off, as is their wont

But then the weather got really cold, so it was spring and winter at the same time, which was quite confusing.

Huh, I'm talking about the weather, which means it's probably time for me to sign off. Maybe go eat some more cream cheese on matzoh, I dunno...

Holding Pattern

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Tue, 04 Apr 2023 12:59:00 +0000

Hi! Still here, still alive, still completely intact - apparently, it takes longer than I thought to schedule surgery dates, etc. The first surgery (ovaries/tubes/uterus) won't take place until 17 April, and I swear, if I had know it would be that long, I wouldn't have posted so early about it! Now I just feel like a drama queen, oooh, everyone, look at me!

So, uh, sorry about that.

Spring happened, though, there's that

In the meantime, we've been busy here. For Valentine's Day, Larry and I went on a date to the plastic surgeon, where we were treated to WAY too much detail about reconstructive breast surgery. I went home overwhelmed by the choices and was up with anxiety half the night. And here, my friends, is where female solidarity comes into play: Did you know that apparently it is a thing for post-mastectomy/reconstruction women to immediately volunteer to show you their boobs if you are facing the same situation? It's sort of like men showing off a new car.

So I've seen real-life fake boobs and they look completely normal and NOTHING like the pictures the doctor was pulling up from the web during our consultation. At which point I calmed down and gave the go-ahead on the whole shebang (no idea where that word came from, but it's staying), and now I'm due to have that done on 15 June. My post-op appointment is on the 21st, which is not exactly how I had planned to spend my 60th birthday, but life is weird like that.

What's also weird is that crocheted bags keep showing up randomly
all over the house, as Susie is obsessed with her new hobby

So this whole thing has been a lot of hurry up and wait, which isn't fun, but yay, there is always knitting to do and also job applications, the filling out of which has become a new hobby of mine, apparently. I was laid off almost 3 YEARS AGO, and yeah, I'll admit that at first I enjoyed the break and the luxury of having all that time to do whatever I wanted, especially since I still had a houseful of COVID refugees. But my brain is screaming for something to do (something PAID), and not even the part-time Container Store job -- fun as it is -- can cure that.

Folks, I can't believe how many jobs I can be rejected from. It's staggering. Demoralizing, even. And I've learned that there are many, many wrong things you can say to a person who has been looking for a job for a while, because I have heard all of them. For your edification:

"That's weird - there's such low unemployment right now" translates to Wow, you ARE a loser!

"Have you tried looking online? There's lots of job sites" sounds like You're a loser AND you are stupid!

"You should apply to these!" while pointing to several job postings I am in no way qualified for/interested in becomes You're a stupid loser who isn't trying hard enough!

It's been fun, is what I'm saying. Also, don't give advice to job seekers unless you have an actual job to give to them. Thanks, good chat!

I did accomplish one thing the past few months, and that is this:

The surroundings look dreary because February is mud month here, fun

New equipment for our neighborhood tot lot -- the procurement of which fell to me even though I did the same job very badly way back in 2005 -- finally arrived! It looks great and only took me...let's see (checks calendar)...11 MONTHS.

Folks, this task was so stressful that I considered more than once the option of selling my beloved home and moving to a different town, just to get out from under it. But now, whenever I step out my door, I gaze upon this marvel and take a few satisfied breaths while I try to forget about all the other neighborhood HOA balls I am currently dropping.

Of course, there's also been knitting: a slow pair of socks, plus a pink version of Joji Locatelli's Pure Joy shawl:

Pink is my February color. My new sneakers? Blindingly pink

It felt very satisfying to finish this and wear it nonstop for a week, but you know what would also feel satisfying? A JOB.

The End

Sometimes? You Get Lucky

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Wed, 01 Feb 2023 03:29:00 +0000

Hi! How was your January? You know, that pleasantly boring month with nothing going on, so you can catch a breath after all the holidays?

Yeah, not so much. In late December, I FINALLY took a blood test to determine whether I have a gene mutation common among Ashkenazi Jews that predisposes us to ovarian and breast cancers, among other fun things. So, in January (calm, relaxing, boring January), I learned that I do indeed possess one of the magic mutations. I'm a winner! Come on down, Suburban Correspondent, it's your turn to play Genetic Roulette!

So the rest of the month was filled with discussions and medical appointments and decisions (decisions which weren't very hard to make, honestly), and frankly, I've seen more anatomical pictures and drawings and explanations than I ever wanted to. I'm really not a biological sciences gal, you know. I preferred physics, nothing to get squeamish about there.

Well! This is an unexpectedly unpleasant topic, isn't it? Let's look at some handknitted socks (I've done 3 pairs this month, because when there are medical decisions to make, I turn to yarn as a calming agent.)

You can't tell, but these are sparkly

Where was I? Oh, yes, so essentially, my body is holding a Fire Sale, in that Everything Must Go! Ovaries? Don't need 'em! Tubes? Ditto! Uterus? Oh, what the heck, while we're in there...

And, yeah, the boobs, of course, those too.

Oh, sure, we could watch and wait, but the medical consensus is YOU DON'T WANT TO. Which is fine by me, only I've never had surgery before. Ever. Remember that moment at the train station in October, where Larry and I had to decide to drive all night so we wouldn't miss the wedding, and everyone was all, "SURE! I LOVE this plan!"

That's me, right now, saying yes to two surgeries, one of which will produce visible results that I'm not sure squeamish me can handle. THAT will be interesting.

But, hey, this experience should be merely miserable and not horrible, to quote Alvie Singer in Annie Hall. Horrible would be having to change the tag line for this blog to "Kids! Vomit! Mice! Now With Chemo!" or - quite frankly - learning I have a good chance of dying before I even see any grandkids, since ovarian cancer is symptomless until too late. Barring the small chance the doctor discovers cancer when he removes the ovaries and tubes (yup, that thought does keep me up at night, thanks for asking), I consider myself to be pretty darn lucky.

Here, more socks:

knit while I watched a lecture series on the history of Ukraine

And, dear readers, if all goes well, I will become the proud owner of a set of NEW BOOBS, in a normal size for a change, and I will no longer have to spend $65 apiece for the engineering marvels that are my current bras and - OMG - I'll be able to wear pretty ones instead, with patterns and colors and I do not know what all. Also? I'll be able to buy shirts and dresses that fit me, instead of buying them one size too large to fit around my currently capacious bosom.

So I'm keeping my eyes on that prize - new boobs for my 60th birthday, with a wardrobe to go with it.

Yeah, all my kids have to get tested now. I feel strangely, terribly guilty about that. Let's look at the latest pair of socks, these are my favorite:

Not quite done, but I knit almost 3 pairs in as many weeks, stress will do that

You know, I never did get to meet my paternal grandmother, the one who died of ovarian cancer the year I was born and who unwittingly passed down this strange family gift. It was one of those weird eureka moments for me, getting those test results - they made me realize that, whoa, genetics really ARE a thing and she really WAS my grandmother.

I'm slow, what can I say?

I have more to write, about work and such (apparently, there is no limit to how many job applications of mine can be rejected), but I have to go to sleep right now, because tomorrow is my early morning shift at The Container Store. Before I go, though, a few ground rules for the comment section:

1. Anyone who uses the word "brave" will be banned (as soon as I figure out how to do that). Not brave, I just specialize in gallows humor

2. Please refrain from going into detail about the difficult recovery of someone you know who has had the same surgery. I need to pretend this will be simple. (And, yes, I have already experienced hearing stories like this IRL, SMH)

3. My hypochondriac self is convinced it is too late and I am already dying. DO NOT say anything to exacerbate that tendency, thanks! Larry doesn't need me to be any crazier than I am right now.

Ugh, this post is sort of a downer, I'm sorry! Couldn't think of enough jokes, and I'm in a rush. But stick around, I'm sure the next 4 months will be an absolute laugh riot...

Let's Fast Forward Through The Last Half of 2022!

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Thu, 15 Dec 2022 18:37:00 +0000

Hi! If anyone's still here, I've just dropped in to let you know I'm alive and well.

Well, except for this, actually:

But hey, life isn't perfect. And luckily, Larry got it first, so I was able to spend a few days frantically finishing up gift buying and holiday menu planning before I, too, was felled by this rapidly mutating virus from hell.

God, I'm so sick of talking/thinking about COVID.

So there's been a lot of knitting and cough drops going on here, plus also Theo and his WIFE (OMG, he's married, more on that later) have moved in for a few days between apartments, just to keep things interesting.

It's really time I gave that girl a blog name, as she does seem to be sticking around. At least, I hope she does.

We have a decent-looking Christmas tree, which is a huge relief, because when Susie and I went looking for one at Home Depot on Monday, it was slim pickings and we were panicking and I briefly considered spending a ridiculous amount of money on a tree at one of those expensive garden centers, and I also really regretted letting Larry decide last month to give away the FREE artificial tree from last year (look, he never really liked it and the Scentsicle trauma has barely faded). Susie and I came home treeless, clinging to the hope that the 60 trees the Home Depot guy assured us were arriving Wednesday would solve our problem.

Larry and Susie went back Wednesday (because I was sick) and returned with this:

Whew

So, yeah, it's sort of short. But it's got a whimsical little tilt to it that makes it look rather Seuss-ian, as if it were standing in the living room of a Who house, AND it only cost $30, so we are all happy.

My goodness, Christmas trees have gotten expensive.

We had a pleasant Thanksgiving, replete with the traditional stuffing preparation:

And a new tradition (oxymoron?) of decorating the turkey cookies:

Fall happened:

Which means there was the traditional making of the applesauce:

And bike riding, as Larry and I continue to try to convince ourselves that we are still fun:

Somewhere in Connecticut

We even took a bike ferry! See? FUN

And then there was the totally new experience in October of traveling to a grown child's wedding. We had to get to Florida, so I came up with the plan of taking the auto train instead of flying. For the uninitiated, the auto train travels overnight from the DC area down to near Orlando, and you can take your car on it. In my defense (for those of you who are already shaking your heads), in September the airlines were a mess and people were getting kicked off flights right and left, so it seemed like a rational decision at the time. Sort of.

And because I am efficient and cheap, I thought it would be a great idea to arrive the day of the wedding. Transportation and sleep - 2 costs rolled into one!

Okay, I can't really defend that one.

Looking back on all this, I'm not sure why Larry did not step in at this point and stop me. Because, really, I had it all wrong. First, I conveniently forgot that I do not sleep well on trains. Second, I read the arrival time wrong, and our "cushion" of maybe 4 hours (FOUR HOURS) between train arrival time and showing up for photos was really 3.

Did I mention the hotel and wedding were 1 hour from the train station? OMG, I am an idiot.

So we got to the train station and learned the train was running 2 hours late. So, let's see, 3 minus 2 = 1 hour to dress and get to the wedding. While I was doing this math in my head and trying to convince everyone it would work, Anna called, because apparently Susie had been texting her that I was not making rational decisions. Anna explained to me (all too gently, which made me start crying) that I was about to miss Theo's wedding if the 5 of us (me, Larry, Susie, Rachel, and - no joke - Rachel's boyfriend) did not get back in our car immediately and start driving.

"You can make it, Mom," she said encouragingly. "You just have to start driving NOW."

You know that scene near the end of Ghostbusters where Egon tells them they have to cross the streams (an hitherto unthinkable action) because that is the only chance they have to kill the monster they were facing? And the rest of the crew looks at each other doubtfully and then Bill Murray shouts, "I LOVE THIS PLAN!" ?

That's how everyone acted when I said we'd have to drive all night. They were like, "Yay, best plan ever!?!" and jumped in the car. You've got to give a lot of credit to Rachel's boyfriend, who did not bail at this moment. I mean, he could have just called an Uber and gone home. That guy really knows how to roll with it.

So then we drove. And drove. And drove. Larry and I took it in 4-hour shifts, with a brief stop to eat the fun picnic supper we had planned for the train, only we were outside a rest stop in North Carolina and it was really cold out and NOT FUN AT ALL. We got to the hotel at 5 AM and - God bless them - they let us check in early. I got 2 whole hours of sleep. Because who needs to look their best at a wedding? Not the mother of the groom, for sure.

I still haven't looked at the pictures. I'm scared to.

We were staying near Cape Canaveral, so naturally David (he and Anna had arrived by air the night before and were well rested, because apparently they know a lot more about travel and weddings than their mother does)...where was I?...Oh, yes, David wanted to go see a SpaceX rocket launch, so I jumped into his car with Susie and did that, and then we zipped back to the hotel to dress up and go to Theo's wedding, which made no sense at all, because when the heck did Theo turn into a full-fledged adult who can do full-fledged adult things like get married? I swear, they're letting kids get married these days - KIDS!

Okay, actually he's 30. But still...

I mentioned the 2 hours of sleep, right? I can barely remember anything from that wedding. I recall trying hard to make coherent conversation with the rabbi and to remember the names of all the bride's Canadian relatives who seem to have traveled just fine to Florida without any trauma involved, but really, my brain was not firing well at all. It's just a blur.

Oh, look, I managed to snap a picture of part of the dessert table, go me!

So there you have it. People keep asking me how the wedding was, and I draw a blank, because what I mostly remember is that desperate drive down an eerily empty 95, all the while wondering how a supposed adult (um, moi) could mess things up so badly.

So that was October.

In September, we took the camper van to our favorite campground in Acadia (the one with the marvelous bathrooms and pastries in the morning), and Larry got to strap his kayak to the top of the van, which made him super happy, because why keep things uncomplicated, right?

Although, I do have to admit it looked sort of cool:

Low overpasses make me nervous now

It was the first time we'd been there without any kids, which felt sort of weird but was also really relaxing because no one was crying or threatening to run away. A nice change, is what I'm saying...

We ate all the good food:

Colonel's doughnuts and Fox Farms potato chips - the height of gustatory excellence

And we went on hikes:

Oh, just another scenic rocky shore line, ho-hum

And generally enjoyed ourselves, which - again - felt sort of weird. I guess we'll never recover from the scarring experience of taking numerous children on camping vacations.

In August we had Anna and Rachel's birthdays and I annoyed both of them by insisting they sit in the Queen of the Day chair while opening presents, because I was very proud of myself for decorating.

See? It's special

Susie and I also made our trip to Lake Placid in August, and I managed not to get sick this time, so I guess I'm allowed to go back. Another friend and her daughter were also there, and the friend and I sounded like pathetic climate refugees the entire time, saying things like, "Oh, this is great, we can sit outside without wanting to die!" and "The air! It's so refreshing!" and "What do you mean you don't need to cover yourself in bug spray every time you step out the door?"

No humidity, folks - NONE

The July weather here traumatized us, is what I'm saying.

Oh, and judging from this photo, my lantana on the front porch did very well this year, because they are apparently not at all traumatized by hot, humid weather:

The only good part of summer around here

And a side note - THESE have been mysteriously reappearing in my miscellaneous drawer:

A sign of senescence for sure

And that's all, folks! Whew! Remind me not to let 5 months go by again, that's way too much to read about all at once, I'm thinking. But now those memories are saved for posterity, and if COVID kills me, my kids will be able to read this and remember just how bad their mother was at making travel plans.

That comforts me somehow.

Whole Lotta Nothing (But With Photos!)

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Mon, 18 Jul 2022 18:57:00 +0000

Wow, 2 months have gone by! Looks as though this blog is phasing itself out, which is a shame, since it is the only way I have to remember what is happening in our lives.

But since nothing much is happening, maybe it doesn't matter? I don't know.

After searching for a decent editing job for 2 years and coming up with nada, zip, zilch, NOTHING, I managed in June to land a part-time job at The Container Store (and I probably only got that because I had an employee referral from Rachel). I'm grateful, because yikes, I was bored out of my skull and needed something, anything, to do. So now I get paid $15 an hour (plus 40% discount) to move boxes, open boxes, empty boxes, discard of boxes, etc.

40% discount means I can afford to buy the special trash bags for my beloved, yay

The job is sort of soothingly repetitive. It's also a buttload of exercise (hello, 15,000 steps on truck day!), so that's helpful, too, in a self-care sort of way. I start early in the morning before the store opens, 3 days a week, and it suits me fine not to be waiting on customers for the entirety of a 6-hour shift. I mean, I'm sociable, but I'm not THAT sociable.

And then I come home and do not much again, but I don't feel guilty about it. Sometimes I even cook dinner. Also, I do yoga videos and such. And look for full-time jobs, of course.

I'm still bored, is what I'm saying.

Before I started work in June, Susie and I were able to take a brief sojourn to the Jersey Shore (courtesy of my friend and her lovely beach house with the scary rooftop deck). We ate the requisite ice cream and hoagies and pie, because who would go to the Jersey shore and not enjoy all the good Jersey food? That would be downright rude, IMO.

Obligatory ice-cream-at-the-beach photo

We also paraded merrily to the beach the first day with all our gear, only to realize that the Jersey shore waters in June (i.e., pre-Gulf Stream shift) are COLD. And, since it was midweek before school let out, there were no lifeguards. So, yeah, we didn't need those boogie boards we made Larry fetch out of the attic the morning we left and that we dragged 4 blocks to the beach (and 4 blocks back).

Still, it was the Jersey shore and it was lovely. 5 stars, highly recommend!

Obligatory sunset-over-the-bay photo

Here at home, however, the weather (OMG, am I reduced to talking about the weather? I'm sorry) has been - and will be for the foreseeable future - disgustingly humid, even when it isn't terribly hot. Larry made me go on a 2-mile walk Saturday, and I complained the entire way. Everything smells bad and the overwhelming amount of moisture in the air saps me of the will to live.

This is not hyperbole.

So Larry and I are planning to drive Midlife Crisis to a campground in the Catskills (upstate NY) next weekend, just to escape that circle of hell otherwise known as Virginia in July. We'll be gone only a few days, but hopefully that respite will be enough to get me to August, when I am driving with Susie to the Adirondacks (even further upstate NY) to visit friends who managed to escape this semi-tropical latitude by moving permanently to Lake Placid, which is apparently the land of cool summer evenings and moderate midday temps.

Upstate New York, that Shangri-La of no humidity

Those of you well-versed in The More, The Messier lore might recall that we visited these same friends at their place in Lake Placid almost 6 years ago, a visit during which I came down with the head cold from hell that turned into the month-long coughing fit from hell. Ever since, I've entertained the irrational notion that I will get sick and ruin the visit if we dare to go up there again. COVID didn't help, of course, because what more could a gracious host want than to be stuck indefinitely with a quarantined, plague-ridden guest?

But now - NOW - I will be bravely facing my fears, because I am a rational human being and of course I won't get sick and I want to see my friend and what are the odds, anyway, and...and...look, this needs to go well, just pray for me, okay?

Now I Whistle While I Work

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Sat, 14 May 2022 23:21:00 +0000

The vanity - the long-lost vanity - arrived while Larry and I were away camping and, to tell the truth, I had already assumed I would never see it. But show up it did, so Wednesday I managed to get it out of its box (NOT EASY) and stand it up in the powder room.

The prodigal bathroom cabinet

"That's it, huh?" Larry asked.

"YES, IT IS," I said, and he knew to offer no opinions, smart guy that he is, even though it looks as though the sink is too small to wash his hands in.

I called the plumber and set up an appointment for Friday. I called our handyman, and he came over the next morning to look at it and make sure it would be ready for the plumber to hook up. Also, to get the $100 I still owed him, in case you're wondering why I get such good service...

"Hmmm, no," he said.

"NO?"

And he proceeded to show me how the cute little shelf and drawer and soap holder inside the cabinet - the features I had so lovingly picked out and waited for - would get in the way of hooking it up to the plumbing. And the cute little legs were too narrow for him to notch out space for them to fit around the baseboard tile.

"Just pick out a different one, like this," he said, randomly pointing to one on the Home Depot website, unaware of the more than 6 HOURS I had spent picking out the first one. I'll admit it, I felt somewhat smug when he realized that the one he chose would actually be too deep.

"Oh, well," he said, walking out the door with his money, "just find one the right dimensions and call me when it arrives!"

I'm probably gonna get another pedestal sink and shove it in there, I don't know.

But let us stop dwelling on renovation failures and instead revel in the renovation success I forgot to mention in the last post: the handyman - in the middle of that whole painting the den and the powder room episode - managed to TRANSFORM my kitchen.

You see, last year I trash-picked the 4 deep kitchen drawers from our old house (2 doors down, same original cabinets) when the new owners there decided to redo their kitchen. I wasn't sure where I could put them, but our genius handyman thought to use the blank space between 2 cabinets (where we have always kept the large, big-family trash can) to build a cabinet for those drawers and somehow seemingly double the storage space in my vintage kitchen.

The miracle of the scavenged drawers

Also? It looks really cute. And vintage - did I mention vintage?

Finally I can store my aluminum foil and plastic wrap in a drawer deep enough not to get caught on their boxes every time I open it. Finally, I have the newly emptied shallow drawer for all my silverware (which has been hanging out in a silverware holder on my counter for a few years now). Finally, I have drawers deep enough to hold dish towels and napkins and also things like water bottles and salad tongs and whisks. No more rummaging in overcrowded cabinets looking for the "too fat" utensils or the lid to a water bottle. Everything has a home now, and it is a beautiful sight to see.

A place for my potato ricer - a dream come true

Having a drawer for the dish towels and napkins freed up an entire pantry shelf - you know, the shelf where the kitchen linens resided in old cloth Target bins that had definitely seen better days? So now that shelf in the pantry can hold a whole bunch of stuff that didn't have a place in the kitchen before or was hard to reach.

I used to have to excavate those bowls from underneath a pile of water bottles

Because installing the drawers took away the spot for our (huge, 20-year-old) trash can, the handyman installed - in the cabinet next to our sink - one of those Simple Human garbage/recycling pull-out rack thingies with the cute little trash bin and the even cuter little recycling bin.

OMG, I love this SO MUCH

Larry took one look at those adorable little receptacles and said, "THAT won't work. We have lots of trash. And stuff will get spilled inside the cabinet."

Because Larry thinks we still have a passel of feral kids living with us, I guess.

Folks, this overpriced piece of equipment has CHANGED MY LIFE. And no, nothing has spilled, and I no longer have to travel to the other end of the kitchen to dispose of a piece of recycling, and no more do I have to wrestle with the huge garbage can that never, ever wanted to let go of the full trash bag inside it. I feel as though animated little bluebirds are flying around my head as I stand at the sink and simply reach over a teeny bit to throw out trash and dispose of recycling, and then reach just a teeny bit the other way to put the compost in its countertop container. SO EFFICIENT.

Who knew The Container Store would have my happily ever after? WHO KNEW?

[NOT a sponsored post, and also, I had a nice coupon, thank goodness]

LOLOLOLOL

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Fri, 06 May 2022 04:21:00 +0000

Whoops, looks as though I missed April there! For good reason, though - you see, after that last post in mid-March, I was sucked into the hell that is household renovations. Oh, nothing major, really - just repaint the powder room, replace the pedestal sink with a small vanity, and repaint Rachel's old bedroom and put a sleeper couch in there. I had visions of a serene and cozy den and a freshened-up half-bath, and really, how hard is it to paint two rooms, pick out a sink, and get a sleeper couch from IKEA?

LOLOLOLOL

Before I could pick out the color for the serene and cozy den, I had to pick out the couch, and it turns out that "supply chain problems" happen to be a real thing. Essentially, we ended up with the couch color that happened to be available (bright blue), so my plans changed from "serene and cozy" to "whimsically cheerful," and I actually managed to pick out a vibrant yellow paint to go with it. ON THE FIRST TRY.

See? Whimsical. Also, Ukraine-themed, I guess

Awesome, I thought, I'm on a roll. The old me - you know, the person who would end up buying a zillion paint samples and painting a zillion stripes on a wall and still have to ask her handyman which color to use? - was obviously gone, replaced by a new, savvier person who could march into a paint store, say "I want that one," and walk out victorious.

LOLOLOLOL

The powder room, it turns out, has a tile floor whose color was apparently created in the bowels of hell. Try a bluish paint? The floor looked too green. Try a greenish paint? The floor looked too blue. NOTHING WORKED.

Blue? Green? WHO KNOWS?

Larry tried to help by pointing out that no matter what we chose, it was better than the rag-daubed paint scenario we had been living with for the past 15 years, but I was beyond rational thought at that time. Also, the kids were upset because they didn't want the old paint job covered up - turns out, finding "pictures" in the crazy pattern on the walls was an important part of their childhood. This also explains why they always took so long in that bathroom, I guess?

You don't see the pictures? Good, neither do I

I cried a lot and finally settled on a greenish paint that didn't clash with the floor too much but was still probably all wrong. And when the handyman started applying that paint, it immediately looked blue, so much so that I was checking the labels on the paint cans and the samples to make sure we hadn't mixed things up.

But then it looked green.

No, blue.

No, green.

Reader, I NAILED IT. That paint had the same chameleon-like quality as the floor and I still can't tell you what color it is, but it works.

That was over a month ago, and I would love to show you a photo of the finished powder room, I really would, but the vanity never showed up (because, I guess, supply chain problems are a real thing). And the handyman wouldn't hang the mirror before putting in the vanity, so really, can I even call it a powder room, if there's nothing to look into as one powders their nose?

So we call it the outhouse instead. This was maybe not so amusing to the houseguests we hosted for a week mid-April, but hey - the Hilton we're not. At least they got toilet paper and not a Sears Roebucks catalog...

We DID have a working dishwasher, though, there's that. Home Depot refunded me my money, as promised, and - by getting a cheaper version at Best Buy - I managed to lose only $200 on the whole deal. I love my dishwasher, because I was able to have it installed before the houseguests arrived and it washed all the dishes that entire crazy week and it hasn't even broken yet.

This pic makes me feel weepy with joy, it does

It was Auntie Kate and her husband who came to visit (which is what spurred the whole renovation thing in the first place), and David decided to fly in from Washington that week, as he hadn't seen either of them in 8 years. And then Theo changed his travel plans to be back in the area in time to see them, too, and then Brian started feeling a bit left out and came home from school for the weekend. Meaning, we ended up with all 6 kids here for Easter, which is why we really needed that sleeper couch in the new (whimsically cheerful) den.

It's an awesome couch, by the way. Sometimes I just go in there and sit on it and bask in the peacefulness of an (as yet) uncluttered room.

I can sleep on it, too! Whimsically, of course...

So all that is why most of March and April are a blur. After the houseguests left, Larry and I took the van for a 2-day trip - we went bicycling in a town 3 hours south of here and managed to eat at two different breweries during our travels (hey, beats slaving over a camp stove). I was also dragged on an unpleasant hike to a very nice view, which made me realize that Acadia National Park has spoiled me. Most hikes elsewhere (including this one) are just a slog through the buggy, muddy woods until you get to the top, where you finally get to look around, often perched precariously on some slanty, uncomfortable rocks.

Not really worth it, IMO

In Acadia, on the other hand, you get views all the way up, there are amazing rock formations and tiny trees and interesting plants to look at as you walk, and then the top is usually a nice wide summit with lots of flat rocks to picnic on. Also? Just unbelievable vistas.

Now THAT's more like it

At our first campground, the campsite - you know, the one that looked so close to the bathrooms on the (apparently inaccurate) campground map - was perched on a hill overlooking a ravine, beyond which were the flush toilets, so that was fun. At the second campground we again had a long walk to the toilets, which only made it more clear that Larry is angling for any insurance money he has riding on my imminent demise, because BOTH NIGHTS, when I had to venture out at about 3 AM to use the bathroom, he woke up, essentially said, "Good luck with that," and rolled back over to sleep.

Nice. I would have resigned myself to this lack of chivalry just fine, except BOTH NIGHTS, as I left the toilet and headed back into the dark, I was startled by the flashlight of another camper heading to the bathroom, and IT WAS LARRY.

I guess he figured I'd satiate any wild beasts out there and then he could go safely, I don't know.

Larry sitting by the campfire, thinking about how to spend the insurance money

Please do take a moment to note how Larry and I were able to just take off on a little trip like a couple of young, crazy kids, will you? That was possible because (drum roll, please) SUSIE GOT HER DRIVER'S LICENSE. That's right folks, for the first time in over 30 years, I am not tied to a child's schedule.

This freedom feels incredible, even though - to be honest - it's not even a freedom I need right now. You see, the theory was that by this point in time I would have a full-time job and Susie would need to be independent, transportation-wise.

LOLOLOLOL

No one wants to hire me. NO ONE. Not even with my new, younger resume. I have tried jobs in my field, customer service jobs a little lower down the totem pole, and - in a fit of pique - retail.

I am still not employed. I might just go insane with boredom. It's not as if I don't have hobbies and things to do, of course. But hobbies are only fun when you are really busy otherwise and have to fit them in. They're not fun as your entire life. At least, not for me. Something new, with new people to meet and new things to learn, is really what I need.

Also, spring azaleas. Everyone needs spring azaleas.

Oh, and I almost forgot the biggest news: Theo and his girlfriend have announced their engagement. Be aware, they've been dating (off and on again) since 2018. They currently live in the same apartment complex and see each other daily. A frequent topic of conversation among family members is when in the world will they decide to get married or at least move in together (hey, we've been bored, what with COVID and all that). But still, when Theo announced on the family group chat that they had become engaged, both Susie and myself - from opposite corners of the house - screamed OMG, as if we never would have thunk it.

Emotions are weird, I guess is my point. Weirder even than paint colors.

The Resumé Of Eternal Youth

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Fri, 11 Mar 2022 01:51:00 +0000

Oh, look, it's spring! Sort of...

Poor things will have snow on them by Saturday

The weather can't make up its mind, which is standard for March around here. I do not want to leave February behind without giving credit where credit is due: Larry (unlike last year) absolutely won Valentine's Day 2022. I don't have photos, so you'll have to just believe me when I say that he planned ahead, going to a specific deli in town to pick up authentic New York Italian bakery cookies, a box of fancy wrapped chocolates, AND (believe it or not) a Valentine's Day card with a camping theme, into which he glued a picture of our camper he had printed.

I KNOW, right? This all made me look particularly bad, since - even though I had picked up some sweets for him way ahead of time - I was reduced to rummaging through the junk in my desk the night before to find (amazingly enough) a Valentine's Day card (unused) from ALDI last year. Oh, he was smug! And I don't blame him.

Unfortunately, we've still got this going on, SINCE JANUARY:

Dishwasher remains broken

Home Depot has offered to buy me out (i.e., give me the original purchase price plus tax of my dishwasher), since one of the parts they ordered isn't expected until April and who knows if that will ever really show up, global affairs being what they are, and hey, I am NOT going through WWIII without a dishwasher, dammit.

...to buy a dishwasher

So I looked up what dishwashers cost now, and - even if I buy the cheap Best Buy house brand - I'll still be out about $200 anyway, once installation and haul away and a new protection plan are purchased. This is, to be honest, discouraging, but I guess I'll end up paying it. SOMEONE's got to keep this economy going, and it looks as though that someone? Is me.

After a month of handwashing dishes and trying to convince my kids that one of them should accompany me in the camper van to visit Uncle Matt in Florida, I set off on my own (with a promise from Anna that she'd stay at our house a few days to make sure Larry ate something other than roasted peanuts for dinner), and you know what? It was really fun! The camper is cozy to sleep in, and - since I can just lock myself in for the night - feels super safe, even when I am alone.

Woke up to a marvelous South Carolina sunrise

I haven't gone away in February since, oh, 1988, when I went to Florida for Navy basic training. So I knew intellectually that things are warmer down south this time of year, but somehow I was still pleasantly surprised to arrive in Georgia and see people wandering around in shorts and eating ice cream outdoors and generally enjoying life. IN FEBRUARY.

It's enough to make me a southerner, I'll tell ya.

I visited my brother's new house and marveled at the palm trees and exotic wildlife and went biking with him on the shore road that he swore had no traffic (but it did, PLENTY) to the park that he said was only 6 miles away (more like 10, I quit at 8.5 - I just wasn't used to the heat). I used the (blessedly car-free) sidewalk to bike back to our parking spot, a sidewalk populated by many geriatric pedestrians you couldn't just yell "PASSING LEFT" at without giving them a heart attack, so it was slow going, but I made it. Barely.

Susie calls these "Dr. Seuss trees," and she's right

And then I drove even farther south to visit some friends/neighbors who had moved to the Miami area a few years ago. The husband showed off his nifty solar system he'd had installed on the house, and I showed off my nifty camper van, and we were both suitably impressed by each other's new toy. They drove me to Key Biscayne, which was beautiful (do I have any good pictures? NO) and only reinforced my newfound notion that people down south really know how to live (at least, in February).

Also, their house was adorable and surrounded by the local wildlife:

Peacocks, loose, in the street - it's insane

All of this visiting and seeing new places was fun. The trip home? SO MUCH DRIVING. True, it wasn't any more driving than I had done on the way down, but somehow it seemed longer heading back. Maybe because I had no time left to stop somewhere else warm and fun. Instead, it was just a slow (and expensive - those gas prices!) slog back to the wintry north.

The most notable occurrence during the return trip was that I ended up in an RV park the first night, parked next to a miniature horse named Flash. I don't quite understand it. Georgia, I guess.

Luckily, you don't smell manure when you're inside a camper van

The second night I picked a nice quiet campground in North Carolina (with heated bathrooms, thanks be to God, because temps were dropping, and no livestock), and everything was perfect until the Boy Scout troop showed up. Still, I can't complain, as it was another comfy night in my camper van (have I mentioned my camper van?), with me all snuggled in with my heated mattress pad and my cozy blanket. Especially since there were those heated bathrooms...

My cozy nest (forgot my pillow, though)

I came home the next day to find the house still standing and Larry well fed, with leftovers in the fridge, so apparently I can get away with leaving home again. Which I might, since the dishwasher is still broken and prospective employers continue to not hire me (or even respond to my applications).

In an attempt to remedy the unemployment situation, I spent this past Sunday revamping my resume to remove any hint of my age, so now anyone reading it would guess I'm maybe 35. What's silly is that I FEEL younger whenever I look at it. I'm an honest-to-God millennial, now, albeit without the typical millennial problems, I guess.

Larry and I aren't far from looking like this, actually

So now I am busy reapplying to a bunch of jobs and planning my next getaway should I (and my millennial resume) remain unwanted. Not sure how I'll pay for that gas, though...

Even Rice Krispie Treats Can Turn On You

noreply@blogger.com (Suburban Correspondent) — Wed, 02 Feb 2022 03:08:00 +0000

Hi! Not sure what happened to January - I guess I spent the whole month still learning to cook for two and doing my daily exercise videos (because, sorry, I don't jog fast enough to stay alive in 20-degree weather) and scrambling frantically to find a new plow guy for our neighborhood (signed the contract at 10 AM the morning of our first snow, if you want to know how close I cut that one).

Seriously, I don't know why anyone lets me be in charge of anything around here.

All my snow pictures came out really Ansel Adams looking

Oh, and I've been washing dishes, because guess what? The dishwasher (you know, the one that is less than 2 years old?) is broken. I'll give it credit - it kept going for 15 whole months after the previous repair, through a houseful of people and multiple holiday gatherings (including 2 Thanksgivings and Christmases). It waited until a celebration-free month with only 3 people in the household to conk out on me again, and for that I will be forever grateful. The bar is really low around here, I guess.

Luckily, we had bought the protection plan (because, yeah, we've been down this road before) (MANY TIMES) and the service people told me that it should be only a week or so to get the parts they think it needs, which sure as heck beats the 6-8 weeks it took in 2020, so I can't find it in my heart to complain about that, either. Maybe I'm just getting mellow in my old age. Or beaten down, really. It's like raising too many teens. The first one you're all "You're not leaving the house wearing that!" By the last one, you're just sending her internet memes making fun of her pants.

And I just got lost down memory lane by searching on "dishwasher" in this blog and looking for the right posts to link to in that last paragraph. Turns out, I have practically an entire book's worth of essays detailing the havoc wreaked on this household by malfunctioning appliances. Appliance stories - is there a market for that? Maybe it could be a subgenre of romance novels? Lord knows my heart has been broken multiple times by the shiny false promises of these unpredictable machines.

Or maybe I should just get a real job. Lord knows I'm trying, but no one wants me. Which situation is particularly demoralizing in a time of record low unemployment, etc. I mean, they must REALLY not want me. I even persevered and earned the Google IT Support Professional certificate, which I found doesn't so much qualify me to be a true IT person as it makes me someone who can almost understand what the IT guy is trying to tell me. But it does look nice and new and shiny on my resume, so there's that.

I am most certainly NOT competent

We had an unfortunate incident with Rice Krispie treats recently, wherein the marshmallows congealed too much and we ended up with an inedible mass shaped strangely like West Virginia. Susie insists that this was due to the fact that she had to use the regular-size marshmallows and not the mini ones. I informed her that in my day we only had the regular-size ones and we had to melt them while walking to school uphill in the snow and they still came out okay. Susie was unconvinced, but what does she know?

Gen Z'ers can't HANDLE the regular-size marshmallows

Oh, and a bunch of you had questions about our new camper van! It's made by Recon Campers, which is owned by a guy who is trying to replicate what is apparently quite common all over Europe - a small van that will fit in a city parking place or a garage but which can also be used to travel and sleep in. I guess Americans tend to go for the larger type of RV, but he is still finding quite a market among US urbanites who can't park a bigger vehicle or a trailer anywhere.

One owner called it the "Swiss Army knife of camper vans"

There are some videos on the website, and here is a video made by a Recon Envy owner that is pretty thorough. I do wish I could tell you how it is to camp in it, but it's been pretty darn cold ever since we got it in November, so we haven't had a chance to do that yet. Larry and I take day trips in it on the weekend, just to break it in, and sometimes I'll park it in the sun somewhere so I can watch on my nifty phone app as the solar panels feed into the house battery.

Hey, everybody needs a hobby.

I'm hoping to take it south in February to visit my brother and am unsuccessfully trying to convince one of my grown children to accompany me. I mean, why would they not want to telework from sunny Florida for a few days, right? I'm trying not to take it personally that so far no one has taken me up on that offer. Trying.