Scattershot Saturday Thoughts

Will I ever write a single topic post again?

Some might say that I should make several small posts instead of grouping a bunch of small topics together in one post. I say, the heart wants what it wants and today it wants to jibber jabber about a bunch of random shit.

I am obsessed with my cat.

This is likely not a surprise to you. Lenny is The Best, and since I am at home a lot of the day, every day, he is my constant companion. I cannot tell you how much of my one wild and precious life I have devoted to looking up things to enhance his quality of life. Catios, toys, communication systems. One thing I read frequently about cats is that they love to be UP HIGH, and my cat has a cat tower in the kitchen and a window perch in my office and, of course, a balcony (surely the people who built this house had Lenny in mind). But I’m always wondering if we could do more. Maybe I need a floor-to-ceiling cat tower for my office or my bedroom or my kid’s room or the basement?

I mentioned recently that my cat has become obsessed with a grasshopper that attaches to his wand toy. Well, my daughter handed him the grasshopper and he absconded with it and now I have no idea where it is; either it’s gone forever, or it will show up someday under the oven or in my bed at three in the morning. Fortunately, I can buy grasshopper replacements! Which led me to these rabbit fur toys. How many toys does one cat need, Suzanne?!

Instagram is well aware of how much I adore my cat, and feeds me all the cat content. Lately, it seems like everyone is getting another cat, and oh how I would LOVE to have a friend for Lenny. My husband, who did not particularly want a cat in the first place and agreed to get Lenny purely out of love for me and our kid, is not on board. And I respect that. But also: I want a second cat. Much as many non-parents believe with their whole hearts that they will NEVER be the kind of parent to have toys lying around their living rooms, I was firm in my conviction that I would never have cat towers or cat toys cluttering up my space. And, just like those non-parents who do a complete 180 when they have a kid, I now spend long minutes staring at my walls, wondering how best I could incorporate a wall climbing system into our overall home design and daydreaming about teaming up with my dad to create a custom set of cat slash Other Things shelves – maybe this combined with this (or this or this)? – that would look elegant and natural on our walls but would also provide our cat with a new way to see the world.

“How can anyone NOT be obsessed with me?”

Longterm projects to complete with a partner

Okay, moving on from my cat! My mom told me about a local challenge – sort of like a pub crawl, but without the pubs. We went to our first non-pub yesterday and plan to visit another one next week. I love that she suggested this joint activity: it gives us an “excuse” to get together, it encourages us to visit different parts of our community, and it supports local businesses. This is exactly the kind of thing I’ve been wanting to do with her, but a) I haven’t really known how or where to look for this kind of thing and b) nothing has jumped out to bite me.

I have to believe that there are other, similar types of activities that we can do together once we’ve completed this one. BUT WHAT??? Everything I come up with almost immediately hits a non-negotiable.

Visiting local museums seems like an obvious idea. Although I tire of museums quickly. Plus, they often cost money and it would be ideal if this joint activity were free. Birchie has taken on a hiking challenge several years running, which sounds appealing. Unfortunately, my mom lives nearby primarily in the winter months, and hiking in the snow and ice isn’t at the top of her list of fun things to do. (Don’t you love how the prior sentence cleverly implies hiking in snow and ice IS on MY list of fun things to do?) Elisabeth visits lighthouses, but the closest lighthouses to me aren’t reasonably close to my mom’s house. A coffee shop or restaurant or ice cream shop crawl would be fun, but again with the spending money, not to mention that those types of places tend to be crowded and noisy, which cross them pretty firmly off the list. A dear friend of mine would be all about finding local haunted places, but I don’t think that’s my mom’s jam. Stephany recently did a reading crawl, which I find deeply appealing… maybe my mom and I could visit one bookstore or library at a time and spend an hour or so reading together? My mom doesn’t really enjoy shopping or live music, neither of us are that into group exercise classes.

Are there any options I’m not thinking of? Have you ever done a “challenge” or a multi-part activity, either on your own or with a friend or family member?

Favorite podcasts

Based on Engie’s enthusiastic recommendation, I binged the entire second season of “Adults in the Room.” It was compelling and thought-provoking, and I found myself staring into space after every episode, wondering about things like the knife’s edge balance between “protecting a victim and future potential victims from abuse” and “protecting people from false accusations”… the many, many ways people can inflict themselves and their desires on others non-consensually and whether “abuse/abuser” are the most accurate terms for every act/person on that spectrum… and how big systems, like school districts, can feasibly and reliably balance the need to employ staff against their responsibility to protect the people they serve. It was a heavy topic, for sure, and the podcast of course had limitations in its scope and viewpoint and ability to address the bigger questions, but I found it completely engrossing.

Last fall, I think, Nicole recommended that I listen to a podcast called “Beth’s Dead,” and hoo boy, THAT was a fantastic listen. It also touched on heavy topics, but it was mostly about the intensity of parasocial relationships and I loooooved it.

I am not typically a podcast listener, although I can’t articulate why I gravitate toward other types of media first. But I enjoyed “Adults in the Room” and “Beth Is Dead” so much that I would love something exactly like either of them. I just started “Scamanda” which might do the trick, but would love more ideas if you have them.

Initial thoughts on physical therapy

The other day marked my first physical therapy appointment to treat a case of tennis elbow. Reminder: I do not play tennis. My best guess is that I injured my forearm while lifting weights.

This was my second time patronizing a physical therapist; the last time, some seven or so years ago, was also in response to a workout-related injury. That time, I’d squinched my lower back doing ab exercises during a barre class. I don’t remember much about that PT experience, except that it was helpful. So I am going to try to write about this experience in more detail, for the benefit of Future Me.

When I arrived at the PT office, I had to fill out a series of long questionnaires – the kind that ask the wrong questions. (For instance, it asked “Does your pain interfere with your social life?” instead of “Does your pain interfere with your ability to work out the way you want to, which affects your mental and physical health on a daily basis?”)

After I’d filled out all the forms and handed over my insurance card for photocopying, my physio (Allison calls her PT a physio, so I am going to do that as well) called me back to a little office that looked like a doctor’s exam room: exam table, couple of chairs, cabinet with sink. The physio asked me a bunch of questions about my pain level and when/how I thought I’d injured the area. (He also noted that he had no part in designing the questions, nor has he ever, in twenty years as a PT, looked at any of the completed questionnaires.) (ARRRGGGHHHHHH, amirite.) Then he pressed on various parts of my arm and moved my arm around in a variety of ways and asked if anything caused pain. Then he agreed with the diagnosis of tennis elbow and said I would need to come to PT twice a week for six weeks. Ugh.

Then he showed me a couple of stretches to do, advised me to ice my elbow twice a day, and took me into the main space of the PT room, where there were exercise benches, weight machines, yoga mats, treadmill, and massage tables. I sat on a chair with my arm resting on a massage table and the physio ran an ultrasound machine over my forearm for what seemed like a long time. Then he massaged my forearm using a metal tool that looked kind of like this. He asked me if I could tell how tight my muscles were (or maybe he said “tendons”?), and when I said no, he showed me how the metal tool was unable to slide smoothly over my arm, but instead looked as though it were gliding over a bumpy road. Then he showed me how to massage my own forearm, using the elbow of my opposite arm (not easy or fun), and that was it.

I wasn’t really prepared for anything about the experience, because I had no idea what to expect.

Two things I wish I had known in advance:

1. That I would be a lot of pain after the appointment. My arm is sore, and in a new way than it has been; I would compare it to the same soreness I’ve had after getting a vigorous back massage, or even similar to the soreness of doing a rigorous exercise routine. Allison suggested that I take Advil before PT, and I will do that next time for sure.

2. That I would be expected to CHAT. My physio was lovely and friendly and talkative, and it turned out we had a lot in common to discuss. But chatting for A Whole Hour with someone I don’t know well is exhausting. There was one other patient in the office while I was there, and he looked at his phone the whole time his physio was massaging him… but he was on his stomach and she was working on his legs/feet, and I think it would be a lot more difficult/rude to stare at my phone while my physio massages my arm right there next to my face. I already dread going to the dental hygienist because of the chatting, and I only have to do that twice a year. HOW am I going to survive eleven more hours of conversation with this guy? (Who, again, seems lovely and friendly and kind!)

Wall art

My primary resting spot in this house is in the cozy armchair in the corner of my office. My view from the chair is of my bookshelves, but I am increasingly aware of how bare the walls are on either side of the shelves. Wouldn’t that be a nice way to display some family photos? We have TONS of artwork around our house, but very few family photos.

I have gone so far as to select a variety of photos that I’d like to display, but that’s where I get stuck.

What is the best way to display them? Gallery-wall style or on a series of floating shelves? Is there a way I could incorporate my decorative skiing tile, which I bought from Lauren years ago and LOVE and have never figured out how to properly display? (If you look closely, it’s sitting there on top of the Sue Grafton mysteries, but I would like it to be more visible.) If I have one non-photo, should/could I also add a small painting or a poem or something? How do I figure out how many [items] would look good and what sizes they should be?

I realize my success with gallery walls is zero, but this is MY office so I have more control over it than over shared spaces.

Ergonomic laptop holders

Speaking of my office sitting habits, I forgot to tell you about the part of my physical therapy appointment during which the physio scolded me about my computer usage habits. (He wasn’t mean about it or anything, more aghast that I was doing such constant harm to myself.) He suggested that I immediately stop using my laptop while sitting in an armchair (don’t let him know where I am writing this post) and sit instead at my desk, and invest in an ergonomic laptop holder so that I stop doing intense and ongoing damage to my neck and posture. He also recommended that I immediately cease using the track pad and keyboard on my laptop and get a separate mouse and keyboard.

What I want to know is, are there ergonomic laptop holders I can use on my lap? I really don’t like sitting at my desk.

How long is too long to sleep in?

Between the cat and perimenopause, I am no longer a sleeper-inner. My husband, who is chronically underslept, can sleep in until ten o’clock on the rare occasion the stars align for him to do so. My kid, who is almost-but-not-quite a teenager, has begun to sleep in more luxuriously than she used to; for years and years, she was an up-with-the-sun kind of kid.

My question is, how long do I let her sleep? I know she doesn’t get enough sleep these days, so I’m inclined to let her sleep until she wakes up naturally. But I also don’t want to start a Bad Pattern, and sleeping late often leads directly to staying up late. Ten o’clock feels decently decadent to me, but my husband says he remembers sleeping in until one or so when he was a teen.

When you can sleep in, how late do you sleep? If you have kids, how late do you let them lounge in bed?

Also me.

That’s all I’ve got today, Internet. I hope it is not snowing where you are. You know I love snow, but not in May.

Seven for Sunday

Thank goodness for Elisabeth: her F.I.G. Collective project is not only keeping my brain primed to find things to be grateful for this month, but getting me to blog when I feel completely sapped of post ideas.

Here are seven things I’ve been especially thankful for over the past week.

Sunday, February 15: Carla has the day off tomorrow (for President’s Day), so the three of us plus my parents left town for a mini ski getaway. We had great snow, great weather, and a lot of fun. I adore skiing, and I am so grateful to be able to do something I love, with the people I love.

The morning started out foggy but the snow was perfect and no one was there!

Monday, February 16: The grocery store still has a TON of beautiful Valentine’s Day floral arrangements – and they’re all half off! I snapped up this cute little planter.

Tuesday, February 17: Even though we hire a cat sitter to come take care of the kitty twice a day while we’re out of town, he acts as though we have abandoned him for years to fend for himself. He demonstrates his relief at our return through days of intense and unending purrs and Velcro-ing himself to our sides, and I’m not going lie: I love it.

Who knew purring could be so accusatory?

Wednesday, February 18: Guess what arrived in the mail today?!?! What a thrill to be able to experience Nicole’s writing in book form, and to have my own copy of her first novel for my home library.

Thursday, February 19: I had my annual physical with my doctor today. I am grateful that all my labs are normal. I am also grateful that my doctor listens to me and that she was happy to refill prescriptions and submit orders for my first ever colonoscopy. Am I looking forward to this procedure? Hell no. But I have a family history of colon cancer and I am grateful that I’ll be able to get some insights into my intestinal health.

I really would like to decline, but I am NOT GOING TO.

Friday, February 20: For the first time in A WEEK, I sleep through the entire night without waking up. I have been seeing many of the wee hours of the morning lately, and when I’m in a spate of poor sleep it’s easy to feel like it will always be that way. I’m so thankful that I am still capable of sleeping six hours in a row.

Saturday, February 21: Today is the bat mitzvah of a family friend, and it was such a joy to witness her confidence and satisfaction as she led the service in Hebrew. I’ve known this kiddo for more than half a decade now, and as I watched her recite the Torah portion of the service, I could see her little second-grade face superimposed over the face of the beautiful young woman she’s become. Being able to watch Carla grow up and into herself is, of course, such a gift, but I am surprised by how moving it is to watch her friends grow up alongside her. The entire day was joyful and celebratory and I am so thankful to have been part of it.

The cat is wondering why I am using him as a prop.

That’s all I’ve got for you today, Internet. Snow is falling quietly, the cat is waiting for me to play with him, my family is still asleep. I hope you found many things that filled your heart with gratitude and joy this week, and that the week ahead is similarly full.

Five for Friday

Perhaps you are wondering, what the hell am I doing?! Well, apparently I am participating in NaBloPoMo, although not here; I’m writing a post every day in November over on my book blog. And apparently I am also still posting in this space too (though not every day!), because I am… on the other extreme of the posting pendulum?? out of my gourd??? an asshole???? I don’t know. I don’t expect you to read any of it and I’m sorry. I have a problem.  

A warning. I made these amazing and delicious sugar-free, gluten-free – and yet legit delicious! I swear! although Carla and my husband disagree! – brownies again for Halloween. When I made them the first time, I bought a package of super expensive Medjool dates at my grocery store (the sweetness of the brownies comes from dates, spoiler alert) (I don’t even LIKE dates, but these brownies are good) and my only complaint about the brownies was that it is a pain in the rear to pit all the dates. But! THIS TIME I spotted a bag of Dole pitted dates that was, like, HALF the price of the fancy dates, so I bought that to save both money and time, am a genius. To make the brownies, you pulse chocolate and baking soda in a food processor, add dates, then add eggs and vanilla and pour everything into a pan and bake. Easy peasy, delicious. Halfway through making the brownies, my food processor started smoking and kind of stopped working. This is called foreshadowing. I have clearly not watched enough horror movies, so I just thought it was my food processor’s time. I’ve had that thing since 2008, and it’s lived a long and productive life. Time for a new one. I scraped the date mixture into my blender, which had no trouble turning everything into a nice uniform-but-very-sticky goo, poured the batter into the pan, and baked. The brownies were delicious and soft and I frosted them by pouring some chocolate chips on top while they were still warm, and then spreading the melty chips all over the top. My husband gamely agreed to try one, and bit into it… and right into a DATE PIT. So. This very elaborate and somewhat boring story is in service of warning you to still inspect all of the dates, even if they are supposedly PITTED. I suppose this is the baking equivalent of “never trust a blinker.” Never trust a pitted fruit claim, folks, you heard it here first.

My orchid is reblooming! I got this orchid as a gift way back in 2017. It has rebloomed a few times since then but for the first time in my memory, it has THREE blooms instead of one. I think it’s very happy in its new spot on my mantel. 

My kid attended her first b’nai mitzvah of the season last week. When I first posted that she has six to attend this year, a couple of people had questions. Suz wanted to know, “Does that mean six different dresses and six different gifts?” and Eli wondered, “I want to know what one wears to a b’nai Mitzvah! And what kind of gifts is one supposed to give?” Well, first of all, I am a Mean Mom and I only allowed Carla to get two dresses. (And please understand that “only” is in giant scare quotes because that is PLENTY OF DRESSES, she is very spoiled.) (And also, it’s really FOUR dresses, because I bought her two appropriate-for-synagogue dresses as well, that she can wear to the ceremonies.) What girls wear to the party portion of b’nai mitzvah in our area are short fancy dresses and sneakers. Yes. Together. It is my understanding that the dresses are of the same style as those girls are wearing to homecoming. They are very short, sometimes very form fitting. They do not, in my opinion, seem at all appropriate for a middle schooler. And yet they are The Trend. All of us seventh grade moms have been fretting together about the dresses and how uncomfortable they make us, and reassuring ourselves and one another that it’s The Trend and it’s Just A Dress etc. Much as moms have done for time immemorial, I’m sure. For gifts, we are doing cold, hard cash. It is apparently standard to give money in multiples of 18, which is a significant number in some Jewish traditions. 

I made aloo gobi last week, and it was delicious. (It was not, my husband pointed out, much like aloo gobi one would get in a restaurant, but it was still flavorful and tasty and warming.) In the comments, Jenny asked: “That Aloo Gobi looks good- but I looked at the recipe and it has some unusual ingredients- mango powder? Coriander leaves? Do you have those things or are you making a substitution?” I did not, in fact, have mango powder on hand. But I do NOW; I went to the South Asian grocery store and they had multiple varieties of mango powder so I bought some. I also got some Kashmiri red chili powder. I did not, however, get fenugreek leaves, mistakenly believing (and failing to look up until later) that the leaves are the same thing in my container of ground fenugreek. Oh no. The ground fenugreek is fenugreek seeds, and has a totally different flavor from the leaves. Oh well. Next time. The rest of the ingredients – including coriander leaves (cilantro) – I had on hand, and now I can make aloo gobi any old time I want. 

My CPAP machine comes with an app and gives me a daily score. This is very effective for me, because I like to get an A. Right now, I have a B, which is apparently due to the number of times I got up at night and removed my mask. As Allison noted, “I still don’t really understand them giving you a CPAP when I thought your problem was more insomnia-based, but I hope it helps!” I also still don’t really understand it either, Allison. And now I’m getting a B on my CPAP score because I get up too many times in the night and remove my mask. Am I not supposed to pee, CPAP App???? Or what if my cat is scratching the bench at the end of the bed? Am I supposed to just let him shred the upholstery???? And if my legs are twitching uncontrollably, am I just supposed to lie there and NOT SLEEP? Doubtful; you’d probably dock me points for being awake, too. Oh yes, look: hours of sleep do in fact earn points, and I got a score of 58 out of 70 for wearing my mask “only” 5.7 hours. FUN FUN FUN. 

    Okay, that’s all I have today. If you prefer to go check out today’s nonsense over at the book blog, I will see you there. (This is probably Way Too Much Suzanne, and I get that.)