The Great Reveal

4 years … 4 months … 3,391 hours, not counting time spent prepping the piece in 2021, cleaning week before last, framing yesterday.

I can now hear myself repeating the words of Olivia de Havilland, in the closing scene of her 1949 film the Heiress as she placed the finishing stitch to her canvas … "I shall never do another".

There was a snafu in delivering the frame, which is why there was no delivery on Friday as notice indicated or on Sunday, as a revised notice indicated.

Going into tracking, I found the package was stuck because, at some point in the shipping process, the Apartment Number had been left off the address.

Once I added the Apt Number into the system on Monday, the snafu cleared and the apt number then appeared twice …… once because it was already correctly listed in the system, twice because I’d reentered it.

Go figure, but whatever works, and it did work as there was a successful delivery yesterday.

The week started off with a hug from Ernie on Monday …… even though I was wearing the "Look but do not touch" top and even though he saw it, read the words out loud before he pulled me into a hug.

I’d had to leave my sanctuary that morning to pick up photos that had been developed at the drugstore.

While in that area, I drove through the Starbucks down the street and, driving out, spotted that Nazi car again …… the one I’d spotted outside of that same Starbucks near a Dental Office a few months ago.

I get excited every time I see one of these abominations, am able to capture a pic. The feeling is much like hunters must feel at having caught big game in the wild.

I'm easily entertained, LOL.

Arriving back at the complex, I stepped out of the car, heard Ernie’s voice teasing, "Where’s my coffee" as he walked towards me, opened his arms for a hug, paused, read my shirt out loud, hugged me anyway, LOL.

With coffee in one hand, a package in the other, I was pretty much at Ernie's mercy, couldn't straight arm him.

Ernie is friendly, sweet, incorrigible, and I suspect may be a bit of a perv …… that all this hugging is his way of copping a feel.

Hopefully he’ll one day get a girlfriend, so he can rein in all this random hugging.

Today, I’m off to the medical center in Redlands for a blood pressure check to get the doctor off my back.

She’d been requesting a BP check, have people calling me to take it, even went so far as to schedule an appointment for me to take it at a facility I never go to for BP checks because parking is problematic and, once checked in, it takes too long to get the check.

Once, they left me sitting waiting for a full hour. Whereupon, I was too upset, BP surely off the chart from aggravation, so I walked out, only to get a threatening call later that if I didn’t get a BP check, the medication would be withheld.

What the hell, said I. I showed up for the scheduled check, it was you people who dropped the ball.

At any rate, I’ve been going to the Redlands facility ever since, where the process is easy breezy.

After that’s taken care of, who knows what wonderful adventure today will bring.

Show Me

I’m not from Missouri, the show me State, but I don’t take things at face value, I dig deep and have to prove to myself.

Thus it was that when, in early October, I’d posted the neighborhood Starbucks was up/running but, due to the cost of a Venti ($4.75 plus $1 tip and quarter change/$6.00), it would be a rare treat, a reader led me to a site that demonstrated a $3.95 plus $1 tip/$5.00 Tall was the same amount of coffee as the more expensive Venti.

My next trip to Starbucks was on the 22nd, where I purchased a Tall and kept the cup.

Then, yesterday, I purchased a Venti and, using water, ran an experiment to see if the Tall was indeed the same as a Venti.

Tall comes up short in filling a Venti cup.

I don’t know how the guy on that site managed to trick my eyes into seeing otherwise but just goes to show, like they say … one can’t believe everything they see on the internet, not even if we see with our own eyes. Have to prove it for oneself.

Like any good scientist, I had to verify the initial findings, so I poured a Venti into my coffee cup.

Actually, filled to the brim with a tiny bit left in the Venti cup.

Next, I poured a Tall, which the guy demonstrated was the same as a Venti into my coffee cup.

Nope. Not happening.

I’ll stick to the occasional $6 cup.

I also thought my eyes were deceiving me when, headed for the dumpster two afternoons ago, I saw something strange poking out from behind the dumpster wall ……

A Nazi car?

Nope ……… Can’t be ……… Not in my backyard.

Oh, but it was.

Word got around pretty quick, and it was tracked to a visitor.

The driver was visiting the neighbor that moved into the vacant unit upstairs across from Lu’s unit.

A little history on that unit: The previous resident was Laura, one of Dream Lover’s old girlfriends, known on the blog as Boebert because she talked during bingo, couldn’t be quiet …… not unlike Lauren Boebert at the Beetlejuice show.

The unit is one building over from me, upstairs across the quad from Lu.

Now that Lu is with Dream Lover, I imagine she was previously jealous … glancing up, seeing Dream Lover climbing the stairs to Boebert.

But at least Dream Lover waited until Boebert moved out (due to cigarette smoke continuing to seep into her unit from those violating the no smoking rule) before he hooked up with Lu, otherwise Boebert would now be looking down, seeing Dream Lover going in/out of Lu’s unit.

As far as I know, I’ve not seen the person that moved into Boebert’s old unit, don't know anything about him or her or them, but I’ll have to snoop around, fix that and, hopefully, one day catch a glimpse of the driver of the Nazi car.

Speaking of history on units ……… remember the guy that moved into the cursed unit — upstairs across the quad from me ……… "Cursed" because bad things happened to everyone who has lived in that unit since I moved in 2012.

Nice guy in the unit now, friendly to me, but not sociable around here (let’s call him The Geek, because he’s kinda dorky) has managed to break the curse, is going strong, will outlast and outlive yours truly.

If They Build It, I Will Come

After being told, seeing the plans for, and experiencing a Starbucks Effects rent increase back in 2019, only to later be disappointed when the proposed Starbucks on the corner turned into a Seven Eleven, I was skeptical when hearing last year’s rumor of a proposed Starbucks across from the Pain Cave, on the same lot as the market.

Skeptical, that is until, walking out of the Pain Cave back in January, I saw construction had begun.

Since then, though I’m no longer working out in the Pain Cave, I’ve been keeping my eye on construction.

Finally, last week as I was driving by, I saw cars lined up at the drive thru, but it wasn’t until Sunday that, after grocery shopping, I walked across the parking lot to the newly opened Starbucks.

Now that I can literally walk to Starbucks, there won’t be the daily habit I once had. For one, my gut will now only allow Starbucks infrequently. Also, the cost is prohibitive.

The price of a Venti Half-Caf Americana is now $4.75 and, inasmuch as I always leave a dollar tip, plus the quarter change, that would be $6.00 a day.

A treat, once in a blue moon, will suffice.

I’ve got a lot of Starbucks memorabilia — Christmas tree ornaments, tote bags, an apron, not to mention coffee cups up the wazoo, but couldn’t resist the little Lid Stopper, designed to prevent the leaks and burns I sometimes get in transporting.

Sooo cute

It’s so far so good with my sabbatical from Crafts. Other than a text message … "Good afternoon beautiful. I'm just checking on you", when I didn’t show up for Monday’s craft session, it’s been better than good thus far with no contact, no further text messages.

Even my energy level is back on par.

I’d been experiencing an energy drain for weeks. I was going downhill fast, couldn’t manage 10 minutes on the treadmill, and couldn’t determine where the leak was coming from … source of the drain.

Amazingly, as soon as I disconnected from Crafts — being in Craft Lady’s presence, I began to feel like my old self. Just yesterday and today, I was back to 30 minutes on the treadmill, a few minutes on the cross trainer, back to the treadmill for a 10-minute cooldown.

I believe she’s, what is known in spiritual circles as, an Energy Vampire.

In regular secular circles, according to google, "An energy vampire is a person whose interactions leave you feeling emotionally exhausted, depleted, or anxious. These individuals are often manipulative, demanding, and negative, and they may use charm or victimhood to gain attention and control. Symptoms of encountering an energy vampire include feeling drained, physically tense, or emotionally deflated after spending time with them."

I doubt any of the others around her are feeling "drained, exhausted, depleted", as she comes across as just a normal good neighbor and the others aren't very deep, if you know what I mean.

I empath, so I can feel and sense with the others can't … that she's working hard to come across as the lovely, generous, helpful, involved neighbor she appears to be, and I don't doubt that she's sincerely being that. However, I can feel and sense that she's putting in a lot of effort to sincerely be those things, that it's hard work for her as there are underlining issues she's trying hard to keep at bay so she won't be judged, can fit in.

It's my empathing … sensing/feeling/knowing how exhausting this must be for her that's causing her to be a drain on my life force, an energy vampire.

I can't spend a lot of time around her.

It's all good now and looks like I’ll be on sabbatical until Halloween, and then just a drive by through the Community Room to see if Halloween is the dud it’s being set up to be.

Just When You Thought It Was Safe

Yesterday was my appointment with the doctor. On the way to the appointment, this happened.

That was some dangerous driving, and would have gone sideways for me, stopped at the red light, had one of those vehicles been hit by moving traffic that had the green light, causing one or more to crash into me.

I got a good look at the driver of the nazi car as he made the turn, and surprise surprise, it was a Brother, I’d say in his mid 30’s; and not a richy rich snob type Brother, but a common every day normal casual Brother, wearing a white t-shirt.

So, what was he doing driving a cybertruck?

The dangerous move was all for naught, because I knew the route the cars (looking to be a convoy of three or four), were taking would get them to where I’d soon be had they just cooled their jets, made the turn at the next intersection.

So, anyway, the doctor tells me I’m basically healthy, doing all the right things — eating healthy, exercising, but cholesterol is too high and I need to get my BP down, which was 160 when I arrived at the medical center — in spite of having taken the morning’s medication, and 163/71 after the nurse had me sit and rest for a while for a retake.

Go figure.

Doctor’s diagnosis "not diabetic, take 2 tablets for hypertension, but if BP is under 120 systolic, then take one), hydrate hydrate hydrate hydrate, lab work every six months (as they’re keeping an eye on kidneys filtrating a little slower than should)".

So, that’s that.

Today is bingo for the seniors and, after all that rigamarole over that ever-changing bingo flyer, today’s bingo is cancelled. The session scheduled for Friday the 22nd is probably also cancelled and, who knows, there may never be bingo again.

No matter to me, as I’m not involved in bingo, but a huge blow to those that are involved — organizers and participants.

As to why bingo is cancelled until further notice, I received a text from the Baker yesterday afternoon, "Someone came in the clubhouse on Tuesday with Covid, so most of us are just staying inside and testing".

F_CK!!!

I WAS IN THE COMMUNITY ROOM ON TUESDAY!!!

That was Pizza Tuesday, the morning I went down to check out the new Activity Director.

Just when you thought it was safe.

Heck, I didn’t even know Covid to be still a thing.

How are people still catching it?

Remembering how it was that Di hugged me in the Community Room that morning, and I had hugged our former Activity Director Christine, and how some of us had taken a group photo with the new Activity Director Kesha — all standing close, arms entangled, my first thought was to check on when I should begin testing. Learned that, if exposed and don’t have symptoms, wait at least 5 full days before testing but, if one develops symptoms, test immediately.

Not experiencing any symptoms, but needing to know just how worried I should be, I queried the Baker, "Was the person who brought Covid into the room someone who was in the room when I was there or came after I left" and was much relieved to find it was Dream Lover, as he was not in the room when I was there, had come later.

Fortunately, neither were Activity Director Kesha, or her new boss Christine. They headed for their cars just as I was walking out.

Unfortunately, Talker, Little Knock Knock, Lurch, Upstairs Lady, Lu, the Baker, her husband and a handful of others likely came in contact with Dream Lover.

I’m 99.99% certain I’m good but, since Dream Lover’s girlfriend Lu and best bud Upstairs Lady were in the room when I was there — even though, since I'm keeping Upstairs Lady on the does not exist list, kept my distance from her, the fact remains that both Lu and Upstairs Lady are stuck like glue to Dream Lover, so who knows which of them might have caught what. I’ll take the extra precaution of testing.

Isn’t it interesting how things sometimes turn out ……… Upstairs Lady has that little click of hers (Dream Lover, Lu, herself), a little click inside of the big click, that resulted in my moving away from the High Table at the BBQ, away from them, and now one has Covid, two are testing, all three are on lockdown.

Case of the Missing Box, Part 2

Yesterday was laundry day. So, while going back/forth to the laundry room, I walked around a bit and located six white gated doors.

I never before noticed that some of us have gated doors.

How did they get so lucky?

I want one.

At any rate, none of the doors I spotted had the tell-tell sign — that plant, but at least I now know we do have units with gated doors, the box was delivered to this complex.

Seeing Miracle Guy out and about — the resident who survived being shot on two separate occasions, knifed and fire bombed, I showed him the photo, asked if he recognized the unit.

He did not, but had a lot to say about the poor FedEx, UPS and Amazon delivery service around here.

Seeing two random residents on a walkway, I approached, asked if they recognized the unit depicted in the photo. Neither did.

By walking up on random residents, getting them involved in the hunt, I run the risk that one of these random folks actually being or knowing and warning the culprit, but that’s okay with me because fear of being found will set in, the culprit will panic, get rid of the loot, think twice about absconding with other people’s property in the future.

Speaking of fear. Isn’t it interesting that shortly after I yesterday posted about my displeasure with FedEx, the Founder of FedEx chose to leave this plane of existence.

Coincidence or did he flee to escape my ire?

Just as I was finishing up in the laundry room, Ernie — the resident we threw a surprise birthday party for a week or so ago, walked by.

Ernie is always out and about, walking his dog, so I showed that photo to Ernie who said, "I’ve seen that door (looked over his shoulder towards the opposite side of the complex to indicate somewhere over there), but I can’t remember where".

Ernie will let me know when he remembers or sees the door again on his walks.

Deciding I needed a treat to fully recover from the aggravation of all that involved the purchase and delivery of that craft lamp, I drove to Starbucks for a half-caf Americano and saw well-mannered service dogs in-training being treated to pup cups.

Heading back to the complex, passing the site across the street where that homeless encampment had been, I was expecting to see some if not all of the former occupants had returned.

Not yet. Surprisingly, the only occupant thus far is one lone tent dweller.

Waking up this morning, checking emails, I find I’ve already been issued a refund for the missing lamp.

WOW! I’m amazed that all I had to say was I didn’t get it because FedEx misdelivered.

This must happen a lot.

I hope there’s some kind of penalty attached to the FedEx driver so he’ll be more careful in the future.

Does that mean the hunt is now over?

HELL NO!

I want to find that resident, know who around here is so pathetic as to not have knocked on my door, tell me they have a misdirected package, come and get it or walk it over, as I and others here are known to do, so I’m waiting to hear back from the email I sent to Manager, asking if she or the maintenance guys recognize the unit.

I’m not sure that, even if management recognizes the unit, they will want to get involved, let me know for fear I’d kick the offending resident’s butt, which I wouldn’t, but management doesn’t know that.

What I will do is put ‘em on blast with the grapevine, and give the person or persons the Evil Eye whenever I see them out and about.

Mind Games

Activity Director is on the second week of her 2 weeks’ vacation.

As my mother used to say, "One monkey don’t stop no show", so a new resident, let’s call her Crafty Lady — the resident that brought down her leftover supplies week before last, took over when we didn't like what Activity Director had in mind, took over today and showed us how to make bookmarks, from acrylic blanks, tassels, stickers.

Discussion during crafting was planning for yet another BBQ, this one for the 4th of July.

Staff has Friday the 4th off, which means the Community Room is locked. The organizers, because of that homeless gentleman crashing the Memorial Day BBQ, ultimately making off with 8 hot dogs, want not to BBQ outside on the 4th, but in the Community Room, on a day when it is open, where access can be monitored.

Thursday the 3rd is out because the Baker has to take her husband to a doctor’s appointment. Monday the 7th is out for a similar reason for one of the organizers. When I left the discussion, went back upstairs, days were still being discussed.

So soon after the Memorial Day BBQ, I’d like to see the idea of another BBQ dropped altogether.

Not only is the date an issue, and inside rather than outside to keep the homeless away, the organizers want to limit invitees to the usual suspects — only the bingo players.

Good luck with that.

Judging by what happened last Thursday, where we had a private surprise birthday party for one of the guys who has been helpful and Judy, who has fallen out of favor because she never contributes and pissed off the Baker in one or more of the bingo sessions I’m told, passed by, saw us gathered, came in, brought another resident with her, sat down and waited to be served cake, but left after being ignored for half an hour, I expect it will be the same trying to limit attendees to the BBQ the organizers are now planning.

Seems there’s a lot of playing of mind games going on — grievances and subliminal paybacks for those grievances.

I’ve never seen the Baker angry before but, in speaking of Judy, the Baker’s face turned red and she shook with anger saying she was already upset because Red Light had started posting things about her again (that is until I blocked RL) and then Judy had gotten on the Baker’s case in bingo when the Baker called the correct number but the wrong location (like G 73 instead of O 73 because vision in her right eye is down 40%). She said Judy humiliated her and had done so on other occasions in bingo.

Instead of saying something like, Give me a break Judy. It's getting annoying. I got the location wrong, but you know what the number is, the Baker internalized the annoyance and is now walking around fuming at Judy.

I told the Baker what I’ve always told her, that she needs to stop letting people walk all over her, speak up for herself.

She said, "Maybe I will next time it happens".

She won’t.

She never does.

She just gets mad, tells others of her grievance, others get mad with her, then come grievances and paybacks.

I suppose you’d call this passive-aggressive behavior.

As I’ve said ever since no one had my back when I had that dust up with the Black Witch, and the usual suspects not only did not have my back, but tried to silence me, tried to make me allow myself be walked all over like they let others do to them, I’m done fighting other people’s battles for them, don't really care how the usual suspects try to punish Judy, whether or not Judy crashes their BBQ.

The Talker and I seem to be the only one of the usual suspects with the guts to tackle things head on and thus whatever is immediately handled, over and done with.

Backing up a bit to the homeless …… we had a substantial encampment building up in the field across the street at the end of that corner away from the businesses.

I didn’t hear anyone complain about it, because we know, with the uncertainty of what Donnie Two Dolls is going to do with Social Security and SSI, it could happen to anyone of us.

That is, there were no complaints until some bad actors from the field began coming onto the property, hanging out — which frightened some of the more vulnerable seniors from going outside. One bad actor was seen stealing cute little items residents had placed on their patio railings. Others from the homeless encampment began sneaking in at night to swim in the pool. We have a shower at the pool, but instead of using that, they put soap in the jacuzzi to take a bath, and tried to beat up the security guard when he caught them, tried to remove them from the property.

The result was police involvement, one of the homeless guys trying to attack the cops with a hatched, and the city sending in a crew to dismantle the encampment — towed the campers away, etc.

You hate to see them displaced like that, but had they left us alone, we would have left them alone.

Twin 1, who runs a non-profit which provides essential services to the homeless, had serviced that encampment last time she was here and, when I told her they’d been evicted, said how sad it was, that "They’re getting desperate. It really is a walking dead situation where it’s every man for themselves and people are just doing whatever it takes to be fed and cared for. It’s sad all around. I completely understand the need for y’all’s safety and I also understand the need for the items they have. They do have to go about at the right way."

As long as that field is vacant, the homeless will be back, and probably are in the process of moving back while I’m typing this, but hopefully it will be a nicer group, bad actors gone, won’t cause us any problems.

About Last Week

Last week went whizzing by. Hopefully the next four years whiz by just as fast as last week did.

I had all kinds of plans for Saturday. First was to participate in this year’s Shamrock 5K at the University, after which I was going to check out an event being held, by country music station K-Frog’s Street Team, at the Stater Bros Market in Ontario.

Waking up that morning, I decided to do neither. Instead, in between catching up on recorded TV programs, working on that never ending needlepoint project, watching Tesla stock tank, I kept falling asleep, ended up mostly sleeping the day away.

Sunday was more of the same, except I didn't even bother to get out of my jammies.

Speaking of the SwaztiKars, I do wonder about that friendly lady I met at the craft store that gave me a tour of her Cybertruck. Of Elon she’d said, "He’s very political, but I don’t care about his politics. I just like his products. I have five Teslas".

No way she could have anticipated she’d be stuck with all those expensive cars now not safe to drive.

Twin 1 popped in for another layover at my place Saturday night.

Once again driving from Nevada to California on business, she crashed at my place, got some sleep and, drove the remaining three hours back to Nevada Sunday morning.

She’s got one more trip before business is concluded. So, I’ll be seeing her again next week or the week after.

Long time readers might recall having voted for Twin 1, when she was among the nominees for 2021 CNN Hero of the Year.

She won.

Couple weeks ago, she was nominated for Outstanding Social Media Personality at the 56th NAACP Image Awards Creative Honors.

I’m not exactly sure how the winner was determined, whether it was by some group or by the public voting. She was up against some stiff competition, so color me and her both shocked when ……… She won!

I'll spare you her acceptance speech.

Today started off with oatmeal for breakfast, as I was all out of eggs.

Not wanting to do oatmeal again tomorrow, I went hunting for eggs after this morning’s workout.

The Stater Bros. on the corner had no Organic Eggland’s Best, but it’s looking like my connection with Trainer’s friend — the guy who stocks the eggs, is going to work out.

When I said I’d check back after Wednesday’s workout to see if my preferred eggs had come in, he said that when they come in he’d set some aside for me. Even asked if I preferred brown or white. I prefer brown, but if it's Eggland’s Best, I’ll take white.

Not wanting to do the oatmeal thing until Eggland’s came in, I drove to Ralph’s market and scored a 18-count carton @ $13.49.

That’s $3.50 over the last 18-count carton I purchased.

Totally worth it to avoid another oatmeal breakfast. I can eat oatmeal for lunch, I’ve even eaten oatmeal for dinner, it’s just that I prefer eggs for breakfast.

I’ll still check back with my egg hookup on Wednesday. If he’s got ‘em, I’ll take ‘em. Crack them out of their shells and freeze for backup.

I See Dead People

Well not people, just person; and not up close and personal, but off from a distance.

The plan yesterday was to, after working out, head across the street to the market for groceries.

After loading my workout gear into the car, I thought to check my fanny pack for cash and oh oh, I didn’t have sufficient on me.

Thinking the ATM at the market across the street had probably been emptied over the weekend, fresh cash not yet arrived (no cash in the ATM has happened before on a Monday), I drove to the branch of the same market that has a Teller setup, sure to have cash.

This branch of the market is located in the heart of where the homeless congregate. Thus, the shopping center that houses the market, a restaurant, fast food place, et al, is video monitored, with a voice that comes over the air announcing the area is being monitored, no loitering.

Also, inasmuch as the market is off to the side, away from the other shops and stores, the first business on that side of the lot, there is quite a lot of high iron fencing where the market and the market’s parking lot is located, to control access, keep the unhoused out.

What with that monitoring voice coming over the air, fencing and security guards, I always think of a prison when I shop there.

Believe it or not, this market always has the freshest produce.

I can only assume that, regardless of the people I see living on the streets in that area, it has something to do with Redlining …… that area being rated at a higher income than where I live because fruits and vegetables are not always that fresh at the corner market, often appear to be on their last leg. That never happens at this other market — the prison.

So, anyway, as I was driving to the entrance of the prison, I looked over and saw what I instantly knew was a dead body.

First thing I spotted was a figure on the ground, covered with what looked like a blanket. Then I noticed the cop car parked alongside where the body was located.

Once I parked inside the prison, I could see the tape surrounding the scene.

I observed nothing that gave the impression a crime had been committed, so maybe the person just gave up the ghost by natural or medical means.

That’s what happened to one of my brothers. He had a heart attack while stepping off a bus, passed away right there on the sidewalk.

After getting cash inside the market, I spent a long time working through my list because I was out of absolutely everything — except eggs.

By the time I finished shopping, headed back to the car thinking the coroner would have arrived, taken the body away by now.

Nope.

Still there on the cold sidewalk.

Just how long does it take for the coroner to get to the scene? thought I.

Remember that classic "train leaves the station" math problem? Well, the answer to how long it takes for the coroner is much like that math question and was found in the news I found online this morning.

Let’s say I was at the market from noon to 12:30. The video indicates the news and coroner arrived 17 hours ago. I downloaded the video at 7 a.m. this morning. Seventeen hours from 7 a.m. is 2 p.m.

So, correct me if I’m wrong, with my poor math skills, in estimating the answer being the coroner arrived around an hour and a half after I left ……… the deceased body lay there two more hours ……… likely way more because the unknown element is what time did the cop arrive, cordon off the area before I arrived.

So, that's how my week started ……… seeing dead people.

Out and About

Snow on the surrounding mountains made for a cold yesterday, but it was a dry day, the sun was shinning, so I headed out of the area to replenish my needlepoint floss stash.

I’ve been getting low on colors needed to complete the never-ending needlepoint project — a project now 3 years, 3,350 hours into the making with no end in sight, and couldn’t run to one of the local craft stores (Michaels or JoAnn’s) because they’d both surprisingly gone out of business.

The only craft store still in business, a few cities over but within driving distance, is the craft store with the mission "to honor God by operating in a way that follows Biblical principles". Translation: racist, homophobic, rethuglican Orange Menace supportive.

It’s the only game in town, so I drove over, got the colors needed, made it out alive.

Heading back to the car, hearing music and seeing the top of white tents off in the distance, I suddenly remembered this is the area where there’s a Farmer’s Market on Saturdays.

Sprouts has no eggs available to sell, none, not a one, and store management can't say when the shortage will end.

No such shortage at this farmer's market.

The 18-count at $17 comes to $0.67 per egg but one doesn't know where these eggs come from, what conditions the chicken that laid the eggs are being kept in, what feed they've been given.

The 12-count is $1 per egg, but same problem with not knowing whether the eggs will make one ill.

Plus, I don't care for diversity inclusion equity in my eggs ... prefer all brown or all white, not a mixture of the two.

These are supposedly Organic, but who knows, and I can't make out the price.

At any rate, I still have a few Eggland's Best Organic (12 count at $8.79 comes to something like $0.73 per egg), so looks like I'm getting the best and safest deal at my local supermarket ..... for now.

No thanks!

Empanadas and Oxtails WTF

I probably have food issues today due to what I ate as a child, because my mom was from the country, cooked slave food country like her mom, and I didn't know any better .... thought it was normal to eat, what I now see as horrendous concoctions, like brains and eggs for breakfast, oxtails, chitlins, hog head cheese.

The fact that I've not continued that tradition, have not eaten that way, may be why I, the oldest of my mother's children, am still alive while everyone else .... brothers, sister, all died long ago.

And p.s. ... I never fed my children any of that goop, but others seemed to enjoy it as the line was long for either the Empanadas, the Oxtails or both, so whatever.

The Farmer's Market was a good place to recharge — put in some walking steps, breath in fresh air, get some sunshine, listen to music.

It was a nice afternoon. Too bad the day did not end as well .....

Yep! We had another quake, but at least it was tiny one.

Merry Christmas

I’m back from an overnight, with granddaughter, the great grandbabies and my new relative (the 18-year-old great granddaughter I didn’t know I had), to tour the Festival of Lights at the Mission Inn.

Knowing the elves would have returned to the North Pole Christmas Day, on the way out of town I stopped by the market where Elf Buddy resides for one last hunt and found him in the Bakery Department.

Lights in and around the Mission Inn were spectacular and, since pictures and videos are worth a thousand words, here you go.

Perils of taping. Didn’t see the curb. Almost fell.

All in all, it’s been a fun but busy, too busy, holiday season. I’m now ready to settle in for a long Winter’s nap.

I Almost Got Runover by a Reindeer

The mechanical reindeer in the shed at Saturday’s Breakfast with Santa were a little too real for my taste, but I survived the photo op.

Twin 2 and I arrived about 15 minutes before the event was to kick off, as I was looking forward to riding the train (like last year), before the area got so crowded that the train could not move safely through the limited space (like last year), but things were a little different this year.

For one, no train.

The ice-skating rink (actually roller-skating rink to emulate holiday ice skating) was now located where the train used to be.

Breakfast was now being cooked in the space where the skating rink used to be (breakfast was cooked offsite last year and brought in).

This way is better ─ hot and fresh, reminding Twin 2 of the tradition, back in the day, when I’d take her and her sister to various community pancake breakfasts.

Instead of the train, scattered around were scenes for photo ops.

Twin 2 and I took advantage of every one of them.

Twin 2 chose to pose inside the giant light bulb.

I opted for the giftbox.

Another tradition, when my girls were growing up, was a photo with Santa. Who knew I'd be taking her for that photo with me at 80 years of age ... 81 in a few weeks, she at 56 ... 57 in eight days.

Breakfast kicked off with the arrival of the Carolers.

While Twin 2 was enjoying her pancakes, I wandered off and came across a reindeer that didn't try to run this grandma/great grandma over.