So… quarantine. Someone who doesn’t wash his hands around here got sick, surprise, surprise. But I hadn’t been stuck indoors due to that, not quite. But because my right shoe broke in such a way that part of it rubbed slowly cut into my foot. And thus I couldn’t walk outside.
Gawd, it was good to get outside again. Hobbling in the process of buying new shoes wasn’t great… and worse that the shoes we bought were awful dress shoes that did not match the display shoe (face-palm). (Going back, I found none of them matched that shoe!) But I got the idea to tape some paper towel into my broken Air Monarch shoe, and got back out walking.
Looking-like-a-dork-with-a-mask-on aside, I was grateful for the sun and fresh air.
With all this pandemic and complications from it, I’d almost forgot that everything had been blooming.
Oh, the places you’ll go after moving to a city with so many stores within walking distance. And so many firsts. And not just the Firsts of the day program I attended, such as visiting a fire department and a police department, or the Firsts of the new residence, such as the first snowstorm, or first long power outage.
Or first frozen hard-boiled egg because I put a salad too far back in the fridge; or other more trivial things like first nosebleed, or first ant; it was no April Fools joke to see that a-hole ant in my room the first of this month.
But firsts like restaurants I’ve never visited before, from greasy burger joints (sometimes those hit the spot), to a Chinese buffet of many types of food, to a native-Spanish-speaking Mexican restaurant. My mother and I had gone out less and less over time until it was rare that we ever did, but ever since I moved out, we’ve gone out twice a week, for lunch or a movie. I’ve now had more pizza and lasagna in months than I had in years. And on one part of my desk sits a pile of tickets. 🙂
Often, we’d walk thru the Mall, and eat at the food court, even if the food we got didn’t come from the court.
And… then the economic struggles hit home. Across the country, stores and whole malls have been struggling for years.
Well. I’ve been gone long enough that you may be wondering what happened to me. What can I say? I’ve been busy and distracted. I’ve settled in the group home, and for months it’s been one change after the next, in staff, and loud laughter, and spontaneous clapping by a roommate who revolves around the living room TV, most often channel surfing music videos. (It didn’t take long for him to wear out the batteries in the Roku remote.)
And then you count the chores we’re all used to—e.g., doing dishes… but then cleaning up others’ messes, which is not something I signed up for. And that includes staff leaving plates and utensils in the sink. Sometimes people don’t learn to not put utensils in the garbage disposal sink; they fall in. To top it off, some areas are never cleaned despite the obvious warning of mold and ants come summer unless I bother. Can you sense my frustration?
Oh, and now the staff knock on my bedroom door to “check up on me” at times, even if it means waking me. And on program days, I’m awake anyway for the unpredictable Logisticare service that’s so awful one of its drivers, who was already late, pushed his hybrid car so hard it broke down on the highway, Friday, with fumes entering the car. Other out-of-the-ordinary things have been happening in the last few days; I lost a receipt as if it disappeared out of thin air.
So I’ve been pushed and pulled around in many little different ways that add up, and it becomes not only frustrating but time-consuming on top of that day program I’ve been too timid to end. (Still, what do I do if I end it? Always out of the loop, I don’t have ideas.)
One plus: I’ve learned to cook pasta pretty well.
Nevertheless, peace and quiet is harder to find. And without good ideas and new ideas, or fulfilling relationships, I’m not satisfied enough to rest. So after a share of social media and informative videos, I don’t get enough sleep and can’t find my voice or be bothered to write a string of words longer than a tweet or two. But surely I could have posted here, right?
I blame Twitter. Again.
It’s addictive or seemingly welcoming but to the point of being oversaturated, and in a way apathetic towards thoughtful blogging, even though the platform was intended for micro-blogging. Today, you can find endless retweeting of one-offs that serve the warning that quality is not appreciated nearly as much as retweeting among tribes. Like any social media, the more you stand out in the “wrong” way, the less you will be heard. And it all happens in real-time, further manipulated by Twitter’s popularity algorithm.
But I digress.
The rush of the holiday seasons was rather pronounced at the Goodwill in Biddeford. Christmas trees and decorations were on sale over a week before Thanksgiving.
The year’s gone by too fast. It’s already well in to summer. So on top of the year feeling like it’s gone by too fast, the days are getting shorter again.
Before summer came, the trees were sprouting, and seedlings fell from the trees. Once summer hit, hard winds and rain began to knock leaves from the trees— and it can be harsh, some days. But there always seems to be some kind of flower patch somewhere throughout the seasons.
And when the flowers shrivel up, the stems just continue to rise. Plants will take whatever they can, and adapt however they can.
Humans, however, don’t even like being out in the rain. (Okay, some do sometimes.)
Which makes it odd that many of the tree leaves near home are still in early development or just budding, whereas trees in Biddeford and Portland have already bloomed.
Of course, snow makes everything take longer. (Not to mention, planted trees, flowers and grass are treated differently.) It’s been cold for May— temperatures in the 40s (°F) versus “normal” numbers in the 60s.
It had been many a year since I visited this beach.
I remember visiting the Old Orchard Street— lined with stores, rides on the side… and pizza. And more pizza. I remember playing at the arcade. The last time, however… I sat in my mother’s car parked along the street, and didn’t get out due to self-consciousness.
On Wednesday, most everything was closed, and will remain closed until summer, of course.
Yeah, it snowed again, about a week ago. But that’s Maine for you. It can snow “unexpectedly” in Spring. That isn’t to say we’re the only state that gets snow in April. Some parts of the U.S. got blizzard conditions. (And Texas got a dust storm.)
But, with rising temperatures and rain, it soon began to clear up. The white stuff vanished in two days, save a few patches.