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Haha.  Still avoiding hanging pictures that haven't been hung for don't ask how long.

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From a philosophical point of view, perhaps you don't really want to start that "household project" (hmmmm) as much as you think you do?  And then you "allow" yourself to be distracted?

 

No no.  It's always AFTER I start, when I'm deep into it.

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My building has apparently decided that the way to promote health in the building is to crank the heat up to the max.

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Husband has been flying around the ceiling for three weeks of house arrest, moving pictures room to room, tearing through drawers, organizing his office.   He finally took himself to the country for the week.   Sure, many of the projects he addressed were valid, but they also fit the category of "if it's not broke, don't fix it".

I SO wish your husband could come over here. He could hang all the pictures I haven't gotten around to hanging over the years, and I'd given him all the breadcrumbless pasta with bottarga that he could eat!

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I changed a light bulb today. Saving hanging a picture for the weekend. Trying to pace myself.

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My building has apparently decided that the way to promote health in the building is to crank the heat up to the max.

I've been complaining about too much heat since we moved into this building 17 years ago.

 

I got smart this winter, and left my air conditioners in.

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Husband has been flying around the ceiling for three weeks of house arrest, moving pictures room to room, tearing through drawers, organizing his office.   He finally took himself to the country for the week.   Sure, many of the projects he addressed were valid, but they also fit the category of "if it's not broke, don't fix it".

I SO wish your husband could come over here. He could hang all the pictures I haven't gotten around to hanging over the years, and I'd given him all the breadcrumbless pasta with bottarga that he could eat!

 

He's not too keen on bottarga so you'd have yourself a pretty cheap handiman.

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I need to renew my driver's license, but the DMV won't let me do it online because of my advanced years.  So, I have to make an appointment to go to the office.  But the offices are all closed due to 'rona.  Sort of a Catch-22.

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Yesterday should've been great all day. Lovely spouse and I left our building for the first time in three weeks for a medical appointment. We're fine. The clinic was great, social distancing was easy on wide Eastern Parkway's median, and it was nice to see trees up close. And after all that sheltering we were ready with doubly layered masks, great hand-face discipline, and efficient stripping/showering/laundering once back in the apartment. And we've lucked out with lots of delicate greens from a suspensefully delayed Instacart delivery. We're eating so well. And now that we have limes I can make caipirinhas again.

 

But last night was also my time to reshelve the incoming pop-top cans of herring (sardines, kippers, etc), trout, smoked oysters and mussels and clams, octopus, and squid -- the last, "in their own ink," turning out to be a disappointing tarry mess of more ink than squid; everything else I got was top quality. These are part of more than a month's worth of boxed and canned soups and beans, Jyoti brand stewy Indian dishes, and canned tuna, all to be nibbled on but mostly saved in case we can't cook. Our neighborhood had blackouts last summer, and I'm leery of what demands our huge building might have on its own and area infrastructure, and how slowly stuff might be repaired, under the circumstances.

 

I decided to shuffle the rectangularly packed fish and shellfish into evenly distributed variety. What a gorgeous mosaic of neatly stacked, canned cornucopia that would be, their colorful cardboard sleeves making their pantry shelf best in show. No. After sorting by brand, and randomly opening some sleeves to make sure the pop tops were indeed on top, to avoid the slightest chance of an oily leak over the months to come, I found that only those cheap-ass Goya squid tins had been packed randomly up or down in their cardboard.

 

Aided by a zin/syrah blend that would normally have calmed any annoyance, I had to rip into every damn Goya sleeve to see which can side was up, stack them accordingly, and settle for rows and columns of packaging with regular tears and shreds sticking out, like an array of Aliens eggs with some burst open. The wine was not enough.

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And now fate has dealt a new nuisance: moths.

 

I didn't decontaminate the living room quickly enough earlier this week. So last night I found a small insect explosion there in the folds of a thick wool blanket. And this morning we found both bedroom closets with many new pets, the kind you never have to feed.

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