"Did you have a good run?" our friend asked her husband.
"I did!" he answered.
"Was it nice to be away from your baby?" she cracked.
"Sooo nice," he sighed. Then he looked at us. "To be clear, I love my child, but..." His eyes widened, and he shook his head.
"She's all-consuming right now?" I suggested.
"So true," his wife nodded.
"We have entered the baby zone," agreed her husband.
"As vast as space and as timeless as infinity?" I asked.
"Definitely," he laughed.
I shifted my weight from foot to foot and scanned the retail shelf idly as I waited. We were at a local pharmacy for Heidi to get her COVID booster. "Those kids are disgusting!" she had said when I picked her up from school this afternoon. "If they can? They will make me sick for sure!"
Now, as she waited behind the partition to receive her shot, the particular section I was standing by was dedicated to sleeping. It was an exhaustive inventory, to say the least, spanning the shelves from bottom to top for at least half of an aisle. It included melatonin, chemical sleep aids, face masks, earplugs, electronic monitors, sound machines, and even some sort of smart alarm clock.
When did sleep, or lack of it, become such a big business? I wondered. Has it always been such an issue and we are just now addressing it head-on, or has insomnia escalated? Does it vary by region or nation? What is keeping so many people awake?
"All done!" Heidi interrupted my thoughts. "That's one less thing to worry about."
This little one has hairballs.
This little one has diarrhea.
This little one has poop stuck in her fur.
This little one has a cough.
And this one cleaned and saged the house today.
Hopefully? They will all be on the mend soon.
"We're having a quick stand-up staff meeting," my former principal joked when I walked into bowling yesterday.
I laughed. "Is Ellen here?" I asked, and in response, she lifted her chin down the lanes.
I went down and wished my friend and former colleague good luck on her first official day as a member of the Ladies Executive Bowling League, and as we chatted, we were joined by other retired colleagues-- a Spanish teacher, attendance secretary, science teacher turned principal and assistant superintendent, and of course our principal and assistant principal. The only one missing was our director of counseling, because she was still on summer vacation in Maine.
"Wow!" I said to the principal, "It really is a staff meeting!"
I like to eat mints when I'm bowling; they keep me sharp and, coincidentally, curb my appetite, so all I do is bowl, bowl, bowl, bowl, bowl.
My favorite brand is Ice Breakers. I stumbled upon their pleasing hockey puck-sized packaging last December when a teacher I was supposed to observe canceled when I arrived at the school. I had an hour or so to kill before my next appointment, and a big-box home improvement store sat next to a big-box general merchandise store right down the road, so I stopped at both. I bought some fun new holiday lights at the first, and then, while I was browsing the aisles at the second, my eye fell on Candy Cane-flavored Ice Breakers. Considering my next observation was in 45 minutes, breath mints seemed like a good idea.
Wow! Were they good! I tucked them in my satchel and slipped a couple in my mouth before every observation from then on. Candy Cane was no longer available when I needed to restock, so I settled for spearmint, which wasn't as good, but better than peppermint and much better than wintergreen.
The habit first transferred to keeping a tin in the car, then to keeping another in my bowling bag. They are good in many situations: substitute teaching, testing, before working out, etc. Lately, though, spearmint has been in short supply, and I'm running low. Recently, it occurred to me to order them online, maybe even in bulk, and when I sat down to do so yesterday, there was just enough crispness in the morning air to make me wonder if it might be time to switch back to... Candy Cane!
And sure enough? It was! Eight little pucks full of mints arrived at my door this afternoon, and I don't think its a minute too early to start celebrating.
It wasn't that long ago that I was complaining about how deserted the neighborhood seemed after the federal government radically revised its teleworking policies. Then, I missed seeing my neighbors as I walked Lucy each early afternoon.
Well, that attitude has shifted. The three of us saw well over a dozen other dogs and their walkers on our 45-minute jaunt this afternoon, and maybe it's that my little neighbor dog, Berto, is a little more reactive than Lucy? At any rate, my shoulder wants to know where the hell they all came from and why they weren't at work.
Lucy has been suffering from a particularly nasty bout of bad belly; she even had a rare inside-the-house accident that prompted me to replace the living room rug. Heidi carefully curates her diet and supplements, but none of the usual interventions have been effective.
"I think it might be time for a visit to the vet," I sighed this morning, but after some discussion, we were still on the fence about spending hundreds of dollars on the usual inconclusive diagnosis and treatment plan.
"There is a last resort," I said. "I can cook her favorite meal: hamburger and rice, and maybe we can get a can of pumpkin, too."
"Do we have any butternut squash?" Heidi asked. "She LOVES it when you steam that for her."
We did indeed have several squashes fresh from the garden, so I went ahead and peeled, diced, and steamed one of those, then I sautéed some organic 93-7 ground beef, and cooked a batch of Jasmine rice.
"She licked the bowl clean!" Heidi announced after dinner. "Fingers crossed it will take care of the problem."
Yet another testimony to the power of a home-cooked meal!
