Faire mon Steinberg

"Grocery shopping" sounds so boring -- not the kind of thing I'd want to do on a regular basis. I still think of it as "faire mon Steinberg" -- what many women called grocery shopping back in the 1970s when we shopped at neighborhood Steinberg markets in Montreal.

The last time I was responsible for the task my primary focus making sure I had supplies for nutritious children's meals and school lunches. Bob took over the job sometime in the late nineties and I've always been somewhat critical and decidedly ungrateful.

When asked to contribute to the grocery list, I usually declined, knowing perfectly well that Bob wouldn't even know where to find hummus, goat cheese or farro. Turns out I am really good at targeted buying (a few ingredients for a specific recipe) or wandering through the farmer's market, buying until I my arms are full of delicious fruits and vegetables.

I realized over the first six weeks or so following Bob's surgery that I had to learn to shop for meals rather than simply pick up items that appealed to me. I gained new respect for the job Bob had done all those years.

Now I've got the best of the old and new worlds. Bob has resumed management of the grocery list but I go along and am the "go-fer" in the store, finding coupon items, specials and promotions. I also pick out my own favorite foods and drop them in the cart. I've become an expert at unloading; bagging, not so much -- that's Bob's job.

I now know where everything is in the fridge, a surprise benefit. I'll crack open that classic hummus container when I make lunch today.

The $83 Jigsaw Puzzle

I finally finished the hummingbird puzzle about a month ago and couldn't bear to take apart this new piece of art. Rather than take it to be framed -- an expensive proposition -- I decided to do the job myself. Turns out  18" X 18" isn't a standard size. This is what I've spent so far:

Audubon hummingbird puzzle

$10

Sticky backing for puzzle - 2 boxes so I can do this again for the next puzzle (ruined a few sheets)	$12
Clear contact paper - why use glass for a cheap puzzle? (unusable)	$10
Frame - 6 hours to find the "right" one	$22
Mylar - 3 colors to use as a mat, bought at art scraps store (unusable; 2 sheets hopelessly ruined)	$8
Mat - incorrectly measurements taken by me (probably unusable)	$21
Total	$83

The backing worked fine, though I had to flip over the puzzle (quickly and with great competence) to glue it on. The contact paper effort was a near disaster that wrinkled too much to use, and I had a hard time getting it off the puzzle without ruining the picture.

I used up so much time finding a frame that I could have made one (maybe) in less time. The mylar was intended as a mat substitute, but to my surprise it was much like the sticky contact paper and my first attempt resulted in a sticky mess on the back of my puzzle. I ruined one sheet, saved a nice gold one for a future project, and had to use the bright pink. It was totally wrong for the puzzle and I ended up ruining it when I ripped it off.

I don't know how on earth I under-measured the height of the puzzle. Must have been battle fatigue. I had it cut at Frameworks in Highland Village and ended with the perfect shade of dusty green (ironically named "wise green"), so the final product is almost right. Unfortunately, the space above the mat at the top looks like hell.

Bob asked me if it was a hundred dollar puzzle yet. "Yes", I answered, but I guess it's only $83, plus gas. My time is free.

Working up a Sweat

Mowing the lawn is getting easier, now that I've been doing it for six weeks or so. My right hand had been hurting quite badly for most of this time, mostly repetitive stress from mousing and keyboarding, but much worse since I started mowing. Fearing some kind of fracture, I finally saw a hand specialist last week: no break, and only minimal osteoarthritis. However, the light bulb went off as I talked with the doctor. I've been using hand rather than arm muscles to pull the starter, and until today I squeezed much too tightly on the drive lever. This is the case with a lot of other activities too, so in only a few days, my hand feels better. Today I started the mower several times with a nice, long pull and had no pain whatsoever.

Another insight as I worked on this warm, muggy morning and sweat was dripping from my head onto my glasses and into my eyes. Minutes later, my eyes were burning I could taste salt on my lips. I reflected that I have only very rarely worked up a sweat in my life. The few times stand out: lifeguarding on a hot day with too few breaks, being overdressed while cross country skiing, cooking Christmas dinner wearing a heavy holiday shirt, inline skating in 90-degree weather, helping my brother and his wife unpack after a move to Memphis in the brutal heat of late August. And now, mowing the lawn.

I really enjoy the finality of shutting off the lawnmower and closing the garage door. Water tastes delicious and the cool shower feels heavenly. But since a lawn business is not in my future, I'll have to find some other way of "breaking a sweat" the other six days of the week.