So, I survived COVID with mild symptoms. The worst part was feeling so fatigued and losing my sense of smell. I was diagnosed after two saliva tests. Our household of four all had it, though it was mild for us all.
Now I am in the midst of an extremely busy retail season. And I’m still wearing a mask for 9-10 hours a day which makes me hot and sweaty.
In a little more than a week, my daughter and her boyfriend are coming for Thanksgiving. At least I have the day off in which to cook and since our new house is so much smaller, we’ll all be in the same vicinity while I cook which seems more fun.
We have a little bit of snow on the ground. The wind blew so hard today that my husband’s hat blew off his head when he got out of the car. He was so discombobulated that he left the car door open when we went inside the restaurant. After we’d ordered, an employee came to ask if that was our vehicle with its door wide open.
This week, my pantry shelves collapsed. I’m not sure if I’ve even mentioned it, but if you are keeping score at home, so far the following items have broken in our “new” house:
- Glass shelf in the “built-in” cabinet in the tiny dining room (that happened in the days while I was unpacking my extreme collection of dishes and pottery);
- Bedroom closet shelf (just after I’d finished putting the final things in);
- Office/spare bedroom closet shelf.
The pantry shelves were the kind with brackets and a rail. The entire rail pulled out of the wall, so three of the shelves collapsed. In a shocking turn of events, only one jar broke. My son was the one who heard the food avalanche, and thus, he was the one to clean up shards of glass mixed with spaghetti sauce. I felt sorry for him but I was at work.
I feel like gravity here in Minnesota in stronger than in California. How else to explain the fact that items that I’d easily stored on shelves in California are suddenly too heavy for shelves? (I know. The shelf installation here is shoddy. I like to imagine a problem with gravity instead.)
So today, I went to Costco and bought a heavy duty metal wire shelving unit to keep in the garage. Voila! A pantry that isn’t convenience, but which will be sturdy. (And I am going to have someone come and fix the shelves but who knows when.)
My friend, Diane, told me years ago that it takes five years to feel settled in a new place. That thought always comforts me when I feel like I’ll never have any friends here and that I’ll always feel like a stranger in a strange land where shelves cannot withstand all the stuff I own.
(Also: Do not recommend moving during a pandemic. It’s so hard to get to know people, alas.)