I Got Nothing

Nother other than having spent the entire weekend indoors, catching up on recorded TV programs, working on that never ending needlepoint project, and watching my new superpower wane as it didn’t bring in any lottery winnings.

Heading to this morning’s workout, I saw our Outside Neighbor was no longer occupying space on the sidewalk. She’s moved on.

Sneaking a peek into the Community Room after this morning’s workout, I saw all the furniture had been moved to the far side of the room but, other than that, the room looked sparkling clean, no crack in the ceiling, no sign of earthquake damage elsewhere in the room.

However, there was the strong smell of paint.

From that, one can assume last week’s earthquake caused the previous earthquake crack in the ceiling to reopen, and management has once again painted over it.

I hope that doesn’t mean the room will reopen in time for the next scheduled bingo, Friday, February 9, because that’s too soon for me to get out of the responsibility by just fading away, being forgotten.

I’ll probably have to put on my big girl panties and just say count me out.

Be Careful What You Wish For, Part 2

I yearned for more time, and the cable box was mysteriously turned off, resulting in no TV for an entire day.

A few days ago, I was telling Trainer how I sometimes wish the Community Manager would tell us we can no longer have bingo, so I can get out of the responsibility of having to show up to do the photos and manage the residents’ webpage.

I went so far as to tell Trainer, I know residents will be upset should that happen, I’d be completely disingenuous on the surface — pretend to be upset as well but rejoicing inside.

Red Light called last night to say Manager has deemed the Community Room "unsafe due to earthquake damage".

The 3.4 quake we had in 2021 left a long crack in the ceiling, which I think was just painted over. So, having not seen what damage this 4.4 caused, I can only assume the crack has widened or parts of the ceiling have come down.

At any rate, the room has been declared unsafe, today's bingo cancelled for now and for who knows how long in the future.

I am not a good liar, so it was difficult to keep the joy out of my voice when commiserating with Red Light.

She’s hoping management doesn’t drag their heels on getting repairs made, wants the room up and running again soon.

I’m hoping the opposite — drag those heels long enough for residents to forget about me, not be surprised if I don’t return.

I’m not so vain as to think my wishful thinking brought about the cable box snafu and an earthquake, but you have to admit it is odd.

Just in case my thoughts are in some kind of 4th dimensional pocket where thoughts become reality, I’d better focus on being the big winner on the $1.64 million Powerball or $285 million Mega or $18 million SuperLotto or all three.

I’m not greedy, I’ll share.

And now this ……

Ugly Clothes Day

It’s raining, it’s pouring the old man is snoring the weather girls are dressing poorly.

I rarely sleep in later than 7 a.m,. because I enjoy turning on the TV and hearing George, Robin and Michael say, "Good Morning America".

Tuning in just as Eyewitness News was ending, with the weather girl showing rain rain and more rain, I was taken by how ugly her dress was.

It appeared to be made of the same kind of fabric as those old Elvis Presley paintings — velvet.

Some people used to like those velvet paintings because of the way The King and his surroundings appeared to change colors, depending on the angle you viewed the painting from.

That effect looked great on a painting, not so much on the Eyewitness News weather girl this morning, as the result was to highlight her headlights.

Then here comes GMA’s weather girl wearing a top I’d love to have for next Halloween, as it would go well with my skeleton leggings, but was all wrong for this morning’s broadcast.

I wonder if I was the only viewer to have noticed these fashion atrocities and/or to have made snarky comments.

The weekend once again sped by at the speed of light, even though I went nowhere did nothing. While it was rain rain and more rain outside, it was needlepoint needlepoint needlepoint while catching up on recorded TV programs inside.

One program I started catching up on was Worse Cooks in America. More like getting back into it, as I’d stopped watching seasons ago — for no reason other than I just lost interest.

The only reason I was taping this season is because I saw Darnell Ferguson was to mentor a team.

My first introduction to Chef Darnell was on Grocery Games, where his physique, compared to other chef types, and backstory was so inspiring that I began taking interest.

Having spent time in jail, being homeless, living in his car, he now runs several restaurants, has had many appearances on Food Network in other competitions … winning, occasionally losing and now is known as Celebrity Chef/Super Chef.

I was interested to see how he’d be co-hosting a show with Chef Anne.

Turns out he's invigorated the show, as does the contestants coming from Tik Tok, making this, in my opinion, the best season ever.

I think I’m two episodes behind, but the episode I saw last night had me giggling, when I probably should not have been, because a contestant being mentored by Chef Anne became so overwhelmed in getting the right knife cuts on mushrooms for a veggie burger that he had a meltdown.

You know what they say about "If you can't stand the heat".

At any rate, this season is so full of LOL moments that I’ll ride to the finish with Chef Darnell and, if he’s brought back, ride again.

Then there was the new season of Miss Scarlet and the Duke, which sent me to bed thinking oh oh!

William sent out feelers as to Eliza one day wanting to settle down, have a family of her own and was dashed when Eliza, thinking he was teasing her, said something to the effect having a family wasn’t what she wanted out of life.

Enter Arabella who owns a restaurant, who is more the settle down with a family type, can obviously cook when Eliza cannot, seems to be looking at William who, in turn, seems to be looking back at her. Oh oh!

My luck with the weather held up again this morning in that the downpour paused just before I had to head for the Pain Cave, giving me time enough to make a run by the market after and make it back to the unit before rain rain and more rain began again.

Thank goodness someone finally won the Mega pot. I didn't have to pop into the liquor store for tickets and I'm done with lotto fever until the next time.

Family Heirloom?

A few days ago, my heartbeat skipped a little when I heard the announcement on TV that a lottery ticket worth $4 million was purchased at a liquor store in Southern California. Alas, looking up at the screen, the pictured liquor store was not the one where I purchase my tickets.

At least I won $20 on a scratch off and $4 on two Mega tickets. It isn’t much when one considers the pot was $1.35 billion at that time; but I’ll take it, roll it over, try again.

When Twin 2 dropped in on Tuesday, it wasn’t to meet Bear but to return a workout tee that’s been in use some 30+ years, saying she was "working on detachment, starting with tangible things".

Sounds very Zen of her.

At any rate, I said "Don’t donate or throw it away. Give it to me to be added to the t-shirt quilt I’ve been one day planning to make from my race shirts".

The tee in question is one I purchased and began wearing in my late 40’s. I don’t know how Twin 2 came into possession, but she’d sent me a photo in 2013 of her wearing it.

Twin 2 just celebrated her 55th birthday, so the shirt having served the both of us well all these many decades, it’s fitting to retire it, add it to the t-shirt quilt stack.

Once I get around to working on that quilt — which won’t be until I finish this never-ending needlepoint project, I’ll make this tee the centerpiece of the quilt.

I looked for similar tees for when I was pushing 60, then 70. There were none then, but there are a few out there now.

Seeing this tee reminded me to take a stab at one saying "Pushing 80 is enough exercise". I found one had been available, but was discontinued some time ago.

I could make one, but I’ve enough crafting projects on my plate.

So, anyway, as I was moving containers around to get to the t-shirt quilt stack so I could add this one, I ran across my own stuffed buddy — a horse I'd stored away a few years ago.

Ride ‘Em Cowboy

Along about 2:00, Bear and I spotted Yazzy, her grandma and another neighbor sitting on the walkway's bench.

How dare they, I thought. Bold a brass sitting there while I'm still Bearsitting (Thanks commenter).

I yell down to Talker, "Doesn't she want Bear back?"

"Oh, I forgot to tell her".

Sigh!

Once told, Yazzy couldn't get up here fast enough.

She missed Bear just as much as he missed her.

Yazzy loved the book, grandma Talker and the other neighbor gushed over it, talked about how creative it was.

So, there you have it folks. A happy ending.

End of the saga.

Bear has left the unit.

Rainy Days and Mondays

Another weekend gone in a blur. It's Monday and it's raining, but I’m not down. Feeling well rested, I woke up ready to seize the day and the week.

I’m also ready to buy more Mega tickets after this morning’s workout, because the pot is now up to $1.16 billion.

I don’t have to shell out cash for tickets this time because, with a total of $23 in winnings on four tickets, I’ll just roll that over into tomorrow’s draw.

Hopefully someone will win, so the pot will empty and I can stop playing until the next one.

I’d had an epiphany on Saturday.

You know how it is that when kids leave their favorite stuffed buddy at the airport and airport personnel adopt the stuffed buddy ─ take it on adventures in the airport, capture those adventures in photo form while waiting for the buddy to be reclaimed?

That’s what I should do with Bear, thought I.

So, I began setting up scenarios as to what Bear would be doing in my unit and snapping photos.

I printed the photos out on cardstock and affixes to a mini scrapbook album that’s been kicking around for a least 25 years — almost tossed it several times.

Glad I didn’t, because it worked out perfectly and though old was in great condition — pages not yellowed, binder not cracked, which is the beauty of working with the Creative Memories Scrapbooking system. Their products are meant to survive for generations.

Essentially, instead of purchasing a book, I made one, LOL.

Having now sent a text to Talker saying Bear really misses his little friend and wants to go home, I'm now expecting a little knock knock.

BTW, Talker took it well, sent me a laughing emoji, said she’d tell granddaughter.

Hopefully, Bear will be rehomed by end of day. However, on the off chance Yazzy does not pick up Bear in a timely manner, I’m continuing to take photos as I go along — just in case there’s a sequel with further adventures of Bear and because it’s gotten to be kinda fun.

I didn’t think to take Bear to the Pain Cave this morning, or grocery shopping when I popped into the market after. However, I did think to capture Bear making pizza this afternoon.

Fun though it's turned into, I won’t miss Bear when he goes home.

Knock Knock

"Who’s there" said I around 2:30, as if I didn’t already know because I’d heard the tiny footsteps coming up the stairs, recognized her knock.

This time it wasn’t just a hug Talker’s granddaughter wanted to give me. She also wanted to give me her stuffed bear.

She’d introduced me to her bear — a Christmas present, last time she’d knocked. So, not wanting her to give her bear away, and not wanting to take it, I stuck my head outside the door to see if Talker was downstairs monitoring the child.

She was.

"She wants to give me her bear", said I.

"That’s why she wanted to come upstairs", said Talker. "To give you a hug and the bear".

I didn’t feel right about it but, to not disappoint Talker’s granddaughter, I accepted the gift, said I’d take good care of the bear, give it honey.

Talker’s granddaughter seemed happy as she bounded back down the stairs — with the last of the Christmas chocolates I’d set aside.

Since she will undoubtedly be knocking at my door again, I’ll tell her, when she returns, the bear was crying because it missed her. See if I can get her to take it back without hurting her feelings.

Do you not think it strange for her to give me her Christmas gift, and do you not think it odd for Talker to okay the transaction — not discourage her from giving it away?

Talker did say, some months ago, that she might be moving out in March, move in with her daughter to help with the kids. I’m now kinda sorta hoping she does move, so her granddaughter won’t be hanging around.

A break in the rain and a few hours of sunshine today sufficiently dried up the Christmas patio decorations to where I was able to put things back into storage, prepare for rainstorm phase 2.

None of my Mega tickets yielded a return but, with the pot closing in on a billion dollars, I have to keep playing because the price of goods and services have spiraled out of control.

Stopping into the market after this morning’s workout I walked out with very little in the nature of real food, other than eggs, uncured bacon, tomatoes. The remainder was cleaning products, paper products and the total cost was $106.06!

Then came news that something weird is happening with SoCalGas. Bills are going to double, which means somewhere in the neighborhood of $300 a month to heat my little unit.

It's insane!

Speaking of insane ....

UPDATE: Round 15 ... You finally ARE the Speaker.

Pizza Tuesday

The verdict is in on the new Activity Director — she gets an F.

Patio decorations newly drenched by yesterday’s rain, I’m still not able to put things away. In the interim, I’ve been going through all the containers in the patio storage area, reorganizing and discarding what I’m finally able to let go of.

While busy doing so, I get a call from Red Light that the new Activity Director was having bingo today 1:00.

For purposes of clarity — every Tuesday is called Pizza Tuesday because it’s the day every Activity Director, since 2014, brings in full sized pizzas and sometimes side dishes for any resident that wants/needs and then the AD’s duty is either to provide us with bingo or crafts.

"If it’s not raining, I’ll join you guys", said I in response to Red Light.

It was only sprinkling outside when the time came, so off I go to the Community Room.

First off, the prize table was insulting.

"This is what they seem to like at my other properties. It saves from having to buy it", said AD.

Looking around for bingo cards and chips, all I saw was one small container of little plastic rings and tiny cards.

Evidently, this is what she offered last time for us to play with. Told that it wouldn’t work for us, she allowed Red Light to bring down the equipment we usually use and everyone present today, including AD, was expecting Red Light to do so again, but she didn’t show up.

The Baker called Red Light to check on the equipment coming down, but was told by Red Light, "I’ll have to call you back".

After a 15 minute wait, no call back from Red Light, no equipment and prizes not worth the effort, I got up and headed for the exit.

"Where are you going? We’re going to play bingo", I heard the Choker say (Choker being the resident who fell to the floor choking on food stuck in her throat at the surprise Birthday party for the Baker back in September).

"I’ve waited long enough", said I as I exited the room knowing I had better things to do.

Before heading back to the unit, since I was out, I jumped in the car, drove to the market for eggs and Mega tickets — now up to $785 million.

Hell will freeze over before I ever again waste my time going to the Community Room to participate in the new AD’s bingo or craft activities.

Didn't take long for her to prove herself to be just as bad as the last one.

Funny You Should Ask

Finally had a good night’s sleep. Slept all the way through and woke up with a song in my head that I can’t shake — Ding Dong the Witch is Dead.

Right away I’m thinking of Henrietta, Jane, Joyce — the three witches that made my working life so traumatic years ago.

None of the three are popping up on Legacy’s obituary site. Too soon maybe?

The song is still in my head, so hopefully which witch is which will be made known to me somehow some way.

Of course, there’s the Black Witch — the resident who tried to bully me, called me the B word at bingo.

She’s done no damage, is not important enough for a song to be in my head but, if by chance the song is about her, I’ll know soon enough.

There was a ping on the phone at 8:21 this morning. It was a message from the dental office — "Thank you for being a patient. We would really like your feedback. Rate your experience with us here and we’ll enter your name into our raffle to win a $200 gift card".

How’s that for timing.

The plan was to hold off firing the dental office until AFTER I’d found a new dentist, hopefully before January 19 — the date scheduled for me to return for the necessary crown and additional unnecessary work they’d planned to scam me for.

Cats out of the bag now because my reply was — "Funny you should ask, as I’m currently in the process of seeking dental care elsewhere".

As of today, I have two options, both with great reviews and both who appear to focus on quality care, rather than quantity.

In retrospect, I think that’s why so many dentists are scammers. With these dental conglomerates that have offices in many locations, there is the need for each dentist in each location to earn his spot, bring in as much money as he can. Whereas, with the two I’m looking at, they’ve been in business for many years, same location with focus not on becoming bigger and better, expanding, but maintaining patient loyalty.

No. 1 is an all-female dental office. No. 2 is a "holistic" dentist.

Needing a crown ASAP, the all-female office is problematic as they are on holiday until Monday, January 2nd.

The holistic dentists is reading as expensive, but can schedule me for a consultation Tuesday, January 3rd.

The deciding factor will be if I hear from the all-female dental office on Monday and how soon they can schedule me for consultation and the crown work as compared to how soon the holistic dentist can do the work.

No one won the Mega Million last night, so here we go again with my feeling compelled to take my chances until someone finally wins.

I had invested $10 in last night’s drawing, won $4 back. The pot is up to $640 milliion now, so I’ll be purchasing more tickets after this morning’s workout.

Can’t win if you don’t play.

Pizza Tuesday

Thinking less and less about family members not getting along with each other — it is what it is, and feeling better about the dental situation — I’ve decided to fire the current dentist as soon as I find another dental office, I was close enough to being back on center yesterday that it was back to baking shows — starting with The Kids Baking Competition.

When one of the young bakers was asked the name of the spice she’d sprinkled on top of her macaroons, she’d answered "Canine Pepper".

"Canine" as in dog.

Of course, she meant "Cayenne", but her blooper reminded me of an expensive blooper that occurred in 2010, where 7,000 copies of the Pasta Bible had to be reprinted because a recipe for Spelt Tagliatelle called for "Freshly Ground Black People" instead of "Black Pepper".

Many years ago, a girl working in a branch of the office where I worked — called the Public Affairs Department, submitted for publication a citywide booklet that omitted the "l" making it the Pubic Affairs Department.

She was terribly embarrassed and, because she was such a nice person, I was embarrassed for her. As far as I can recall, she did not get fired for the snafu, but the booklets had to be recalled and reprinted at considerable expense.

Looking at the news this morning about people freezing to death, I won’t be complaining about the cold any longer. Especially since, up until today — when it’s beginning to look like rain is coming, we’d been blessed with sunshine while others are dealing with such miserable and deadly conditions.

Today at noon was Bingo with the new Activity Director.

I decided to go down to the Community Room, get a feel for how she's going to work out.

She’s young, seems personable enough.

She arrived on time, but seemed rushed to stick to schedule so, at this point, the jury is still out, time will tell.

I was glad I went because today was my lucky day. I won the Blackout game, covered the card.

Blackout Card

My Prize, Epsom Salt Gift Set

Today was also Pizza Tuesday. So, while we were playing Bingo, residents came in, quickly selected a pizza from the kitchen counter and quietly exited the room.

One of those doing so was our Karen character.

There were at least a dozen or so full-sized pizzas on the table. She opened every single box, stuck her face in, took her time looking closely at each pizza.

I didn’t see her touch them, infect them with her DNA. She just stuck her head in close.

The former Activity Director would never have allowed it.

She'd have told her to stop opening the boxes, just pick one then stay or go.

This young Activity Director could have cared less.

At any rate, Karen's Dream Lover was in the room, so it’s possible her actions were more a stall tactic — hoping he’d turn around, make eye contact so she could engage him, but it didn’t happen. So, she eventually opted to take the very first pizza she’d inspected and exit the room, with one last over the shoulder look back at Dream Lover.

Inasmuch as no one has won the Mega Million and the pot is up to $565 million, feeling lucky because I won the Blackout Game, instead of heading directly for my unit after Bingo, I walked down to the gas station played my numbers.

Hope springs eternal.

Now What?

Believe it or not, Measure EE — that would allow the San Bernardino County Board of Supervisors to start the process of seceding from California, looks to have passed by a narrow margine.

The plan is to turn this county into a new state with the possible name of, not "Shirleyville" but "Empire".

Now what?

Your guess is as good as mine as to where we go from here, but I'm sensing a lot of chaos coming down the line.

Stay tuned.

No. 45 reportedly is "livid and screaming at everyone" over the big up your nose he got with his bully boy Oz losing to Fetterman.

Inasmuch as that errant quilting needle was inserted up the nose of 45’s voodoo doll, can I once again take credit for this one?

Yesterday was my lucky day …………… and NO, I did not win the lottery. Instead, a break in the rain allowed me to head back to the craft store, get my hot hands on this ....

Someone up there likes me, because it was the last one on the shelf. Possibly the last in the store, as I walked around to see if I could spot another and did not.

And what a difference shopping on Tuesday — even on a wet Tuesday with other shoppers in the store, than what I experienced on Saturday when the lines went all the way to the back of the store.

In line at 11:06, I was in the car headed home by 11:15.

So that’s done.

Also, today is the first day in weeks I don’t have to pop into the liquor store, after working out, to buy lottery tickets because someone finally won the Powerball Game — one winner at Joe’s Service Center in Altadena, $2.04 billion.

I’d Like to Speak to the Manager

Preparing to get out of bed this morning, my hand landed on something sharp. It didn’t stick me, just felt sharp.

Having recently replaced my denim quilt with a new denim quilt, because the old one had become somewhat faded by sun seeping through the bedroom window, knowing the new quilt had a polyester fill, I’d assumed that maybe one of the decorative accent pillows that came with the quilt had been filled with feathers and the end of one of the feathers had poked me.

If you’re familiar with those feather filled decorative accent pillow types, it’s not unusual to feel the tip of a feather poking though fabric. Because my practice is to pull those feathers out by the tip and discard, I tried to pull out and discard whatever was poking me.

It wasn’t budging.

Turning on the light to get a look at what I had ahold of, I could see the tip of whatever was not poking out from a pillow but from the quilt itself.

Getting a firm grip, I pulled and I pulled and I pulled and, as I was pulling, a long white strand of something I didn’t identify at first began to appear.

What the hell is this? thought I to myself thinking it was some kind of cord and I was destroying the structure of the quilt.

Taking focus off the long white strand, putting focus on what I’d grasped and pulled on, I realized it was a needle, which made the long white strand some kind of thread.

I remember once reading about disgruntled auto workers leaving sandwiches, etc., in the engine of cars being put together on the assembly line, but I can't imagine leaving sewing equipment in the quilt was deliberate but rather a seamstress losing track, so I got the scissors and salvaged the needle because it’s a good strong quilting needle I might can use in the future.

But WOW! — A quilt, two matching pillowcases, two decorative accent pillows AND a quilting needle — what a deal!

In other news, would somebody win the Powerball already!

Now up to $1.9 billion, I’ll be buying more tickets this morning, but the lottery officials need to come up with a solution to the obscene amount of money in the pot and come up with a solution soon.

Mildred’s challenge today (Day 29) is "A song you remember from childhood".

Other than the song from the Mickey Mouse Club, I honestly don’t recall a single song from childhood. There was no music in the home.

Don’t ask me why, because I don’t know other than mom was one of those overly religious (i.e., hypocrite) types.

My earliest memory of music was when, in my teens, my Aunt Faye — who was much more hip and fun than mom, gifted me with a Johnny Mathis album.

So, to meet the challenge — and maybe because the name of the song will bring me luck when I pop into the liquor store for more lottery tickets, I submit Chances Are by Johnny Mathis.

Lotto Fever and Bad Penny Part 2

And yet again, no one matched all six numbers to win last night’s Powerball, so now the pot has rolled over for like the umpteenth time to raise the pot to a massive $1.5 billion.

I wish someone would win it already so I can stop wasting money buying tickets in the hopes I’d be that someone.

Can you imagine that, when all is said and done, someone will win more money than they can ever want or need.

If I won that much money, I’d keep it anonymous and would be like secret Santa — paying off people’s mortgages.

I’d set up trust funds for nieces, nephews, grandkids, the great grand baby; do something for my twins — purchase homes, set up a business, whatever it is that they want.

There’s a guy in a rickety old wheelchair that I see pushing himself around the area of the market and Pain Cave with his feet.

It hurts me to see him struggling to get across the street and around the area peddling backwards with his feet.

Once, as I was driving back to the complex, I saw he’d gotten stuck on a curb and I didn’t see anyone around on the ground to help him get unstuck.

Not wise for me to stop in the middle of traffic, I drove on, turned into the complex driveway, drove out and went back to help, but saw someone had fortunately helped him out of his predicament. Probably someone driving by on his side of the street, that could just pull over, assist and go.

I’ve often expressed to Trainer that, if I had the money, I’d gift him with an automatic chair. So, that would be on my bucket list for the $1.5 billion.

As for myself, I’m satisfied with my life as is.

Inasmuch as the win would be anonymous, I’d try to stay put where I am, but I would get rid of my current medical provider, have money enough to find myself a caring private doctor, preferably one knowledgeable in the area of holistic cures.

Are you throwing your hat in the ring, buying tickets?

What would you do if you won?

So far, the many tickets I’ve purchased have resulted in nothing, nada, not even a $1 win in return, but a bad penny did turn up yesterday.

Remember that dental office I’d asked to take me off their patient list a while back?

Persistent money hungry buggers that they are, they ignored my no longer wanting to be treated by them and, months later, left a message on my phone to "schedule an appointment to continue your treatment plan".

They must be seriously hurting for suckers, I mean business, because the phone rang along about 5:00 yesterday and "dental office" popped up on the call list.

Thinking I must have messed up and forgotten about an appointment at the new dental office, I answered the phone but, instead of the new office, it was the bad penny turning up again, asking "How are you?"

Irritated, I snapped "I’m fine and I’m no longer a patient at your office".

"Okay. I’ll make a note of it".

No she won’t. If they are so desperate as to reach out soliciting business, they’ll continue to reach out soliciting business, but they won’t reach out to me again because I’ve blocked their number.

Mildred’s Day 25 challenge is "A song you like by an artist no longer living".

I’m in sync with Mildred on this one ….. Janis Joplin.

Coming back from a trip in San Francisco back in the day, I actually saw Janis.

After I was seated on the plane, and just before the door closed there was a big commotion at the door and end waltzes Janis Joplin.

Being a fan, I was like "OMG! It’s Janis Joplin" while those around me only saw what they saw — just another hippy dippy with hair dyed in various different colors, looking like it hadn’t been combed in days, wearing layers of clothing, which made her look fat, topped with a heavy beaded and embroidered coat.

She looked like she might smell bad, but I never got close enough to get a whiff because I was in the cheap seats while she and her crew were led to First Class.

Two weeks after that sighting, I read that Janis was dead from an overdose.

Janis’ Piece of My Heart is raw and gritty.

Faith Hill’s cover of the song is a little easier to digest.

A Hard Pass

Trainer was making good natured fun of me yesterday. Calling me a human pincushion for having taken the Covid vaccinations and continuing to go masked in the studio. This is something he often does because he’s an anti-masker/anti-vaxxer.

When I said I had an appointment for the 2nd Booster this Saturday, he rolled his eyes, called me an addict and told me the story of how the grandmother of one of his clients is now experiencing ailments she never had before being vaxxed.

Trainer’s taunts and anti-point of view doesn’t bother or worry me. It takes all kinds to make a universe so, just like I tolerate my buddy Apache’s support of No. 45 — because I enjoy Apache as a person, I tolerate Trainer’s views because I like him, and his training is worth the risk of being in his non-vaxxed non-masked presence.

I humor him, continue to wear a mask, wipe down with disinfectant wipes at the end of the sessions and, yesterday, I poo pooed that grandmother story.

THEN, catching up on blogs last night I saw where Catalyst, over at Oddball Observations, experienced neuropathy after his 2nd Booster — which he described as “Severe nerve pain, coming/going in his feet leading to prolonged moaning and occasional screaming and cursing”.

That’s twice in one day. First the grandmother story and then Catalyst’s story.

Taking them as signs, I cancelled Saturday’s appointment.

I’m taking a hard pass on this 2nd Booster and any future vaccine shots. I'll take my chances on coming down with one of the variants, which doesn't appear to be as severe as Covid or vaccine side effects.

Speaking of cosmic signs, I’ve been dreaming quite a lot lately. My subconscious is working overtime.

I think I know what the dreams are alluding to, how they relate to what I’m experiencing in daily and family life — like that dream/nightmare I had a week or so ago about the dentist.

I’d surmised it was the result of being traumatized by that lying dentist, fearful now of future dental visits.

Wanting to verify I’d interpreted it correctly, I attempted to dig my dream manuals out of patio storage but, seeing that particular container of books is buried deep behind Christmas decorations and other heavy containers, I decided it wasn’t feasible until December — when Christmas decorations are moved out of the way for display.

When out of the area on Tuesday, passing a Barnes and Noble, I popped in, purchased 12,000 Dreams Interpreted. The book interprets it thusly: "To dream of a dentist working on your teeth suggests that you will doubt the sincerity and honor of someone you have dealings with".

BAM!

Pretty much what I thought that, because of Dr. C, I now have trust issues with dentists.

Last night’s dream/nightmare was a doozie.

It involved waking up to find that lamp, mentioned in the last post, had been moved from the window to right next to my bed so that, when I awoke, I bumped it, and it fell across me. No harm to me, but placed as it was to let me know someone had been there during the night.

My queen bed in real life was twin beds in the dream, with the lamp placed nearest to the bed I was sleeping in.

The dream continued with my grabbing a weapon, in case the intruder was still in the unit as I cautiously made my way to the front door and outside. Banging on Next Door Neighbor’s door, I had her call the police. They searched the unit, the closet, found no intruder but did see the patio door had been breached and shoe prints indicating someone had exited the unit through that area.

Would you believe that out of 12,000 Dreams Interpreted not one covers the topic of "intruder".

Seems I’ll have to wait until December, dig out my other manuals to figure that one out.

I’m also still waiting to see if those lottery tickets I purchased on double egg yolk day will pay off.

I had a Power, Mega, Super Lotto, paid $5.00 and won a whopping $5.00 back on two of the three.

Breaking even, I rolled the $5 into a scratch ticket which yielded nothing, but has been entered into the Second Chance Draw. So, there's still a slim chance the double yolks may yet pay off.

No sign of that Karen character since the day she saw me see her. Don't know if this is because I've not been fortunate enough to catch her when she's out, or whether she's not been out.

Maybe she's embarrassed at being seen scrounging for tree droppings.

Body Language

I woke up this morning to double yolks in my eggs which, according to mysticism, is a symbol of good luck.

Thing is, research tells me chances of coming across an egg with double yolks are around 1 in 1000, so imagine my surprise, because I’d experienced that same luck three weeks ago, when I cracked an egg for breakfast and out came double yolks.

Twin 2 told me to buy lottery tickets but, comfortable inside, I didn’t venture out to do so.

Given a second chance at luck this morning, this time I did pop into the liquor store, after working out, bought two $5 scratch-offs.

Then, I drove across the street, but not to the market.

Your girl has been doing a good job of staying away from the corner market where resides the security guard, who she’s sure is coming onto her, gives her the heebie jeebies.

The market in the other direction has all I need, except for Ben and Jerry’s Chunky Monkey ice cream. For some reason, they just don’t carry many of the B&J flavors altogether, but not a problem, thought I, because the corner drugstore, also with a limited selection, does carry Chunky Monkey.

So, completely out of Chunky Monkey, the only ice cream my sensitive stomach will tolerate, I popped into the drugstore only to find not only no Chunky Monkey, but no refrigerated ice creams period, because the section was out-of-order due to a refrigeration problem.

What to do?

This was supposed to be my double yolk lucky day, but the Universe appeared to be working against me OR leading me.

Did my desire for Chunky Monkey outweigh my desire not to be looked at by that security guard?

Why yes, yes it did.

Driving to that side of the shopping center, I saw him standing outside, far enough away from the entrance that I surmised I could slip in without crossing his path.

Getting out of the car, walking towards the doors of the market, I saw he’d spotted me and, I kid you not, he left his outside post and quickly walked inside.

When I walked inside, he was leaning against a structure, trying to look all cool, like he’d not just rushed in to strike that pose, LOL.

I had my phone in my hand and pretended to be intently focused on something on the phone so I’d not have to look up at him or engage.

I hear him give me a cheery, “Good afternoon”, but pretended not to hear because I was engaged in what was supposedly on my phone as I rush by him.

THEN, to get my attention, he says, “That mask is blinging”.

Oh for Christ sake! It’s the same mask he’s seen every time I've popped in after a workout, but this time he just had to comment on it.

Can he not read body language?

My body was clearly saying, “Leave me alone. Don’t look at me. Don’t talk to me.”

I still didn’t look up from my phone. Instead, I signaled a thumbs up and kept on steppin.

The plan for getting out of the market was, after picking up the ice cream, to once again pretend to be engaged in something on my phone, but he wasn’t at the door, nor was he outside. He’d thankfully disappeared.

So, seat belting myself in the car, I look up and see his big gray truck parked under a tree. I know it’s his, because that last time, when I saw him on the lot and, when the coast was clear, did my grocery shopping, I’d seen him get in that truck.

So, anyway, seeing his truck in my line of vision, the windows of which are darkly tinted, it suddenly crossed my mind he’d disappeared from the market because he was in the truck …. watching. But just as quickly as the thought crossed my mind, I dismissed it thinking it a ridiculous thought, that I was just being paranoid.

Maybe ridiculous, maybe not. Certainly no more ridiculous than his rushing back inside the market to pose his body to say, "Look how cool and alluring I am". LOL.

Well, maybe I am being a bit paranoid because, when road construction prevented me from turning into the complex driveway, I had to pass the complex, make a quick turn into and around in a side roadway, then wait until I could get across traffic, drive back to the complex driveway.

I didn’t think anything of it when a big gray truck made a quick turn into and around that same roadway, stopping just behind me. I didn’t think anything of it until, after I crossed traffic, got to and turned into the complex driveway, I saw that same big gray truck had turn when I turned, drove same direction as I, but passed the complex driving in the direction of the market.

Did he follow me from the market?, thought I.

No, it wasn’t he. I checked the footage on the Drive App, saw it was a different big gray truck.

So maybe just a tad paranoid.

At any rate, at least I’ve got the freezer stocked with four pints of Chunky Monkey — all the market had in stock. That should take me into the next two weeks, long enough for the drugstore to sort out its refrigeration situation.

If you’re wondering how lucky those lottery tickets were …. they weren’t, but all is not lost as both have been entered into the lottery’s Second Chance drawing.

To top it off, though the Tyrant got rid of all the cats, new cats are finding their way here, just as I figured. Heading back to my unit, I came across one, a Black Cat, as it crossed my path.

Some lucky day this turned out NOT to be.

I don’t want to see any more supposedly lucky eggs.

Maybe I tossed the luck away, when I scraped the egg out of the pan, tossed it in the trash, because I saw what looked like blood and couldn’t eat, what I felt to be, an almost baby chick.