Room With a View

Last few days have been quiet — no weird dreams, no disturbing text messages, no contact with neighbors.

With the blinds being stuck to where I couldn’t open them up to let sunlight in, I hadn't even able to indulge in sitting on the couch, spotting neighbors on the walkway.

That changed on Wednesday, when Assistant Maintenance Guy finally showed up with a new track for the blinds to slide on.

Now I’m back to having a room with a view, and actually spotted the new Next-Door Neighbor arriving today, not with furniture yet, just to spend about 20 minutes inside …… checking out the place, I guess.

It’s an elderly female; so quiet, safe.

From the quick glimpse I saw of her, she’s nowhere near as old as I …… maybe late 60’s, and she looks stern, severe, boring, like Mother Superior at the Nunnery, white hair and all.

Won’t be any tea coming from or about her, and she’s probably even less into decorating for Halloween than former Next-Door Neighbor.

Though quiet, the last few days haven’t been exactly idle, as I’ve been a whirling dervish scrapbooking fool, getting the latest batch of photos into the Great Grands Creative Memory Book No. 12.

I'd been creatively stuck in neutral for a bit then, last few days, layouts began whirling through my head at rapid pace — pages and pages and pages were completed; layouts for other pages were documented so I’d not forget the ideas that had come to mind while I wait for supplies to come in.

At last Friday’s BBQ, a few of the residents asked for a print of the photo I’d taken of them at the photo booth. I’d sent those photos for processing to my usual 1-hour photo Lab and was surprised to get a ready in three days’ notice.

Maybe the photo lab was closed for the Memorial Day Holiday weekend, thought I, and patiently waited.

Three days later, on Wednesday, I get notified the order had been cancelled …… no reason.

Unusual, but giving the Lab benefit of the doubt, I thought perhaps they’d been so backlogged over the Holiday that cancelling orders had been necessary.

I resubmitted the order, only to receive another three-days to process notice.

WTF? People are waiting for their pics. It wasn't a huge order, just a handful of photos; and there was nothing naughty in the photos that would warrant cancellation, but whatever. That Lab is a favorite, but not the only in the area.

I submitted the order to a Lab at a drug store over by the college, and they were ready in 1-hour.

I picked the order up same day/yesterday, but didn’t get around to opening until this morning and found not only my photos, but people I didn’t recognize on an outing to San Diego Zoo.

Knowing how valuable my photos are to me, assuming this other family's photos to be just as important, I pondered the best way to ensure they got their pics.

For sure, I didn't trust returning to the Lab, putting the onus on them.

Fortunately, along with that family’s photos was the order sheet including the name, telephone number of the person ordering.

I ran the name through Facebook, but nothing came up.

I then thought calling the telephone number listed would be the most effective way of ensuring the family got their photos, but that calling the person could go very wrong for me because "no good deed goes unpunished".

I took a chance, called anyway, and she answered.

I gotta tell you, had that been me, I would not have accepted a call from a number I didn't recognize, but she answered.

I introduced myself, said "You don’t know me, but I yesterday picked up photos from the Photo Lab, and found your San Diego Zoo pics mixed in".

Fortunately, she didn’t think I was scamming or crank calling. Instead, she laughed, wondered how the Lab could make such an error.

Turns out she lives very close by, immediately jumped in the car, drove over to pick the photos up, saying they were important because were photos of her son, nephew, grandbabies.

She seemed a fun lady …… talkative. Said she wasn't too surprised about the mix-up, because she had questions about the woman she'd dealt with at the Lab when placing the order. Said the woman didn't seem very bright, LOL.

I didn't say so, but I was thinking I must have dealt with that same person when I picked up my order, because she kept asking my name, couldn't find the order until I pulled up the confirmation on my phone to show her the number and she realized she'd been looking through packages, not photos.

Interesting how the whole thing played out … how my regular Lab let me down, I had to switch Labs, and the mix-up got me involved in what followed.

Tell Me Anything

Still waiting for the picture frame to arrive. Tracking indicates still in transit, even though the notice indicates it was scheduled to be delivered Friday.

I’m holding my breath this is not a repeat of the craft lamp I’d ordered that was delivered, but not to me, not even to my building, just disappeared into the ethers.

I’ve just about got the hundred or so photos of the Great Grandbabies (backed up since last December) organized so I can began placing them into the Creative Memory album, and because my brain is in creative mode — individual photos are speaking to me telling me what background paper would work well and layouts are swimming in my head, last few days have been constant motion ……… Up, down, around, up down around for hours, in one room to search through my paper stash, to the table to organize photos, to the couch to document ideas into a document on the laptop, bending, stooping, lifting. If I’d worn my tracker, I’m sure I would have clocked in at least three miles per day and my route would look something like this, with occasional detours to the kitchen.

Needless to say, I haven’t had the time or inclination to socialize with the seniors. My only contact has been a text message from Talker saying "You’re coming to Thanksgiving on the 21st aren’t you?"

"I am" was my reply.

It’s an eating event and, because I have to control was ingredients are in the foods I eat, I generally do not attend eating events. However, the Baker had already told me she was roasting a turkey and, because she’s doing the cooking, I’m comfortable with the hygiene and that there won’t be any seasonings added that will cause my sensitive gut to rebel.

BTW, at the Halloween event, I saw the Baker and MAGA standing at the open refrigerator and spotted two turkeys.

Baker tells me Dream Lover supplied the turkeys.

Who needs Management and an Activity Director when we can pull together to do for ourselves.

And an additional BTW, management told us they withhold money from Kesha so they can use the funds to give us parties at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Thanksgiving is 16 days away and there has been no mention of management hosting the usual Thanksgiving event, and I'm not holding my breath for Christmas.

Where's the money going?

Baker also indicated there will be sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and other sides.

I can eat sweet potatoes, have to pass on the cranberry sauce, and will make my own gluten free/fodmap dressing, gravy and hope Upstairs Lady and the MAGA around the corner don’t irritate me into tossing my cookies or walking out to keep from yelling at them.

Late Thursday afternoon, I stepped outside to take trash to the dumpster, saw MAGA turn a corner off in the distance, waved hello, dropped the trash in the bin, began walking back to my unit when she called for me to wait up.

Looking harried and a bit disheveled she said, "Can I tell you something".

Puzzled, I said "sure".

She went into this soliloquy about having words with someone she would not name, other than to say the individual is a bully.

HA! So is she. She just doesn’t know it.

"I’m not going to tell you what the argument was about, but I defended myself. Now that person is going around telling others stuff about me, and I just want to ask that if you hear anything, you take into consideration there are two sides to every story".

"Not to worry", said I. "I’m an independent thinker, not easily manipulated; besides, people around here generally don’t tell me stuff like that".

She kept going on about it and, because my brain was in creative mode, I didn’t retain more of what she said except, at one point, she was talking about other people this person supposedly had bullied, so I guessed it was Upstairs Lady.

"No. It’s L" (the Talker) she said.

Well, that was a surprise. MAGA is beefing with Talker.

I don’t really care one way or another. My name is Bennett and I’m not in it.

However, though MAGA didn’t tell me what the argument was about, I can guess that, per usual, control freak that she is, MAGA opened her mouth, got into conversations that were none of her business — like she did at last week’s Halloween event that so annoyed me, tried to control what others should think, say, feel in front of Talker and, as I’m sure it wasn’t MAGA’s first time to do so in front of Talker, only this time Talker had had enough, yelled and told MAGA off like I’d wanted but restrained myself from doing last week, and MAGA verbally fought back.

That must have been quite something to see and, because MAGA still seemed upset about words having been said and Talker now badmouthing her, I’m sure it’s not over.

My head will be on swivel at the Thanksgiving event to see if it spills over, LOL.

The very next day, getting out of the car in the market parking lot, I heard a man’s agitated voice off in the distance say, "I know her! She’s a friend of my wife!"

I looked around, didn’t see anything but, before I stepped away from the car, here comes this man looking enraged. He stopped in front of me (I didn’t feel the least bit threatened, his energy wasn’t that) and told me the story.

Evidently, he was having a conversation with a woman on the lot. A female store employee approached, asked the woman he was speaking with "Are you okay, ma'am?".

Whereupon he’d uttered those words I’d heard about knowing the woman, that she was a friend of his wife.

Seeing him upset/offended, the store employee had then said, "I have to check".

He was highly insulted, told me, "I work for a living. I’m not a threatening person; it was none of her business. We were talking. My voice was not raised" yada yada yada.

"I’m sorry that happened to you", said I, "But in all fairness to the store employee, one never knows these days".

He wasn’t having it and continued to rant until he got it out of his system; whereupon I said, "Don’t let it ruin your day" and continued on into the market.

My week in a nutshell the few times I left my sanctuary, ventured into the outside world ………

A Week Without Monday

I’ve been so preoccupied with whatnots that I not only missed the time change, I missed Monday.

Upon receiving a text at 5:30 pm on Sunday that started with "Hey beautiful", asking me to post photos to the Residents’ facebook page of the day’s Craft session, I questioned why Crafts was on Sunday then realized the day was not Sunday, it had to be Monday.

Later, while reading blogs, I saw mention of "falling back".

My taking no notice of either the day of the week or time change is somewhat understandable because, as a retiree …… who cares. Unless there are doctor appointments or a gym schedule to adhere to, the weeks, days, times are pretty much moot, one does what one does when one does it, on a daily basis.

It used to be I could tell days of the week by which of my TV show was on, but now that I’ve discovered Chinese Dramas, I pretty much let the VCR record things like Food Network Competitions, Survivor, Amazing Race for later viewing.

So anyway, as of today, I’m current on which day of the week this is …… Crafts Wednesday, and the microwave is set to display the correct time.

Though Crafty Lady continues to address me as "Hey, beautiful", I don’t think there’s anything in her mind other than business. I can sense she’s taken a giant step back and is now a little less salty about having to do so.

That doesn’t mean I’ll be comfortable enough with her to go down to Crafts today or ever again.

Besides, now that the never ending needlepoint canvas has been completed (I’m waiting for the frame to arrive before I do a big reveal), I’ve crafts enough with catching up on scrapbooking the great grandkids photos, backed up since last December.

Crafty Lady has made no more mention of my hosting Scrapbook Classes for the seniors, which I had no intention of doing. However, it hit me that 1) the seniors don’t take sufficient or any pictures at all to justify scrapbooking and 2) it’s an expensive hobby, a hobby they probably can’t afford to waste money on considering the rising cost of food, medication, and rent increases. So, if she ever revisits that idea, those points are viable shutdowns if my simple "no" doesn't satisfy her.

Weekend Update

We have a new neighbor in the quad.

As I was heading out to Friday’s workout, I saw a moving company truck parked at the end of the walkway. A little lady, whom I took to be the new neighbor, hurriedly passed me on the walkway.

She seeming so rushed, I didn’t get to greet her other than to say "hello". She responded "hello" and was gone in a flash.

Just as I was making my way around the moving van bringing her in; simultaneously, one of those self-moving vans was driving by, exited the gate, moving someone out.

It’s like a revolving door around here. A lot of newbies, very few of us long-timers still around.

My guess is us long-timers are still here because we’re in that gray area — over income for most "affordable" living situations, but not so flush that we’re willing to pay the exorbitant sums being charged elsewhere.

Long story short, we will follow the path of other long timers who did leave .... they left because they died.

So, anyway, the new neighbor doesn’t look like she’s going to provide any blog fodder. She reads as quiet, no drama.

It's nice to look out in the morning, see a window free of debris, a patio not cluttered with a dresser drawer and miscellaneous items, but real patio furniture and cute decorations.

Saturday was a milestone for me because of this ……

Any guesses as to what that is and what it signifies?

I’ll wait.

Spoiler: If you thought it signifies my reaching the bottom of that never ending needlepoint project, you would be correct.

After 4 years, an estimated 3,630 hours, I finally touched bottom and, over the weekend, I managed to fill in the corner, left of that one bottom row.

Now working my way across, rather than down, looks like I may complete this project around this time next year; then I can get rid of the frame, put an exercise bike in its place, and have time to read books again.

Over the weekend, I also managed to put in some scrapbooking time. I’m very far behind on that craft, with last year’s Disneyland visit and the Mission Inn’s Christmas Festival of Lights to be scrapped into the Places book.

I was going to fit in doing my nails up for the holiday, but between scrapbooking and the needlepoint project, I somehow managed to break both pinky fingernails down to the nub.

There will be no fancy nails until the two grow back.

I didn't get around to posting yesterday and had two Funnies for you; so, here's a late Sunday Funnies.

Calm Before the Storm

This past weekend was eerie quiet. The only signs of life were seeing the new resident walking through the quad a time or two and Painted Rock Lady dropping new rocks along the walkway.

Other than that, I didn’t see or hear the voice of a single other resident.

Not that I’m complaining. I enjoy the calm. I’m just suspicious as to WHY. It can’t be that everyone suddenly turned into me, opting to stay inside all weekend. Nope, my spidey sense is saying something’s in the wind.

Perhaps it’s anxiety over the ice cream social Management has planned for tomorrow.

Last time they did a fun event for us ─ the Summer Social, it was to soften the blow of the rent increase posted to our doors the very next day. So, justifiably, I’m now wondering what’s behind the ice cream social, and I’m sure others are suspicious as well.

I’ll go down to the Community Room tomorrow, check it out, but won’t be surprised if no one else shows up.

Nothing new on Black Bikini.

Though I wasn’t outside over the weekend, I did keep an eye out for her hanging around the pool all of last week, but no sighting.

At this point, I’m now beginning to think she may not have been a new resident but perhaps visiting a resident for a few days.

With no distractions and staying indoors all weekend, I’m at last caught up with getting those almost 200 photos into the Creative Memory album. Actually, it was albums — plural, because the photos took up all the space in not one but two new albums.

With not much planned through the end of the year — except maybe the Mission Inn 5K, few photos will be coming in and I can devote my attention to that never ending needlepoint project.

Spending time on Tik Tok last night I ran across "Michael Cohen Reacts".

You remember Cohen don’t you … one of the many who lost their careers as a result of their involvement in No. 45’s shenanigans.

Well, it seems that prison time served as an awakening to having been used and tossed aside. So now he’s out for revenge by spilling the tea and reacting to current shenanigans ─ the Hearings, the raid and it’s all so hilarious.

His latest reaction is about No. 45’s desperate search for the mole — who the informant in his close circle is that told where to look for specific documents. Cohen is certain it’s Jarod.

Wow. Wouldn’t that be a kick in the head if it turns out to be.

I Was Expecting More

Now that the Tyrant (No. 8 manager) is long gone, and there is no longer anyone in management to claim our old Resident's Activity Facebook site as their own (something else he tried to steal from us, claim as his and say Apache wasn't allowed to post to) and since we have a group of women (Red Light, the Talker, Jan, the Baker) trying to kickstart activities, taking a lot of photos, I allowed myself to be talked into restarting our old site.

Sorting through photos the women had taken at the last three bingo sessions took up most of yesterday, but I got 'er done.

One of the photos given me for posting was one taken at Friday's bingo, where I'd worn a favorite shirt of mine.

The lettering that indicates I've got "All original parts" isn't exactly true, as I don't still have my appendix, but the ladies loved the shirt, had fun with my being out and proud about my age, inasmuch as there are women here who would rather die than disclose their age.

They also made a point to bring attention to the fact that the way the letters "spread" made it easy to read, unlike some whose shirts just hang, causing the letters to fall together and be unreadable. LOL.

What with crafting, various social medias, working out, television and now the resident's photo page, I don't have a lot of time for reading.

When Walter Mosley has a new book out, I’ll make time but, ordinarily, the only time I have to read is during downtime — while waiting for the dentist, the dermatologist, the car to be serviced, etc. Thus, because I've not had all that much downtime, I’ve not made much progress on that hilarious read I began back in August of last year Everyone in this Room Will Someday be Dead.

Even though I’ve still around 30 pages to go in finishing that book, and no downtime in sight, when I saw Randy Rainbow had an autobiography out, I put in an order.

Received my copy on Friday.

Inasmuch as I’d paid extra for an autographed copy, I immediately opened to see what Randy had written.

I expected more.

Is that even Randy’s autograph or did some little assistant scribble it for him?

When Twin 2 attended a reading by Walter Mosley, mentioned it was me, her mom, who’d gotten her hooked on his books, Mosley signed a copy of the book he was promoting — a book she’d purchased for me.

Not my favorite Mosley book, but the autograph mentioning me by name makes it a treasured keepsake.

Also a treasure, as mentioned in a previous post, is the book autographed by the Official Witch of Los Angeles when I caught up with her back in 1969 on a book tour.

I haven’t a clue what the symbols mean, would like to know but whatever the symbols are saying has brought me good luck because the book is now considered rare and worth a nice chunk of change ... used. I imagine a used copy, with the author's signature, would bring in an even nicer chunk of change, though I've no plans to ever sell.

I guess the trick in getting more than a perfunctory autograph is to have the book signed in person. So, I’ll have to hope for a Randy Rainbow book tour close enough for me to get to, so I can get a proper autograph.

For those of you who may not have heard of Randy Rainbow (which I’ll find hard to believe), he’s an entertainer popular for his humorous parodies of No. 45 and other GQP politicians.

Oh No! Monday Again?

Another weekend where there just wasn’t enough weekend in the weekend. In fact, I woke up yesterday thinking it was Saturday.

Color me disappointed, when I realized yesterday was Sunday, and that another Monday (today) was coming … way too soon.

At least it was a productive weekend. I got the Creative Memories scrapbook up-to-date, got laundry out of the way, as well as grocery shopping and away from home meal planning done. Having pretty much organized myself that all I have to do before heading out of town on Wednesday, is to gas up the car, give myself another manicure/pedicure. I even started work on the baby quilt.

News this morning, other than that huge flash mob robbery in San Francisco, was that a car, on purpose, drove straight through a Christmas Parade, killing and harming others.

After thinking about what kind of person would do such a thing my mind went to Wait, What, A Christmas Parade in November? We haven’t even had the Turkey Trots.

Am I wrong? Is that not unusual timing for a Christmas parade?

Next news item was that the other high-profile trial, the Murder of the Black Jogger, is now into closing arguments.

Inasmuch as the trial judge is NOT leading the jurors in this trial, I expect the perps will be found guilty …. If not of First-Degree Murder, guilty of something. They won’t walk free.

Seeing the video of Aubrey being chased after the three saw him walk into and out of the open area of a house under construction before they grabbed their guns and took chase, reminded me of what I’ve said and blogged about previously. That, as a person of color, one has to ALWAYS be aware of and consider the optics.

The hotel I’ve booked for this latest trip has a stove top and microwave, which will make it easier to feed myself than a hotel with no means of warming up or cooking meals that won’t set off a gut episode.

The little kitchen area also provides guests with cooking utensils — pots, pans, plates, etc.

Being the finicky type, I won’t be using the provided cookware, I’m taking my own coffeepot, a little skillet, paper plates, utensils.

I’m sure some guests, like those that steal away with hotel towels, have taken advantage of what’s been provided, stuffed what they wanted in their suitcase as they checked out. I, as a person of color, fully expecting to be suspicious just because of the color of my skin, am considering those optics and photographing the cookware I’m taking with me in their natural habitat — my kitchen at home.

No guarantee I won’t yet and still be profiled, accused of thievery if cookware is heard rattling around in my bag, but it does give me protection if accused.

Persons of color cannot just walk into and out of the open area of a house under construction.

In fact, last month, month before, there were optics involved which caused cops to be called, guns to be drawn, handcuffs to be placed on the people seen entering an empty house. It was a realtor, showing a house to a client and the client's son. No surprise that all three were Black.

It's not right and it's not fun, but us persons of color are always at the mercy of the erroneous concepts of persons not of color and have to find ways to work around, protective ourselves, from the optics.

I don't need to go grocery shopping today, but I'm accustomed to receiving a message from Trainer to "Abort Mission" (the Security Guard is at his post in the market) or "He’s not here".

No such message received so far this morning. Probably because Trainer told me on Friday that he and that Security Guard are bonding.

Whereas the Security Guard used to glare at Trainer and not speak, when Trainer walked in on Friday, the Security Guard greeted him with, "Hey Big Dog. How’s it going".

Trainer said he responded, he and Security Guard had a brief conversation, and "He’s really a nice guy".

"So was Ted Bundy", said I.

Perhaps Trainer bonding with Security Guard will work to my advantage, so I can return to the market — which I must do after Thanksgiving because “Find Your Hometown Elf” will be back, and I don’t plan to let Security Guard spoil my annual fun.

Out for Delivery

To say it’s raining cats and dogs this morning would be an understatement, and I think I brought it on myself.

How you ask.

After that last rain storm, expecting the wet weather wasn’t through with us yet, I’d kept my umbrella and boots near the front door. However, we’ve had such nice weather since that, yesterday, I decided to return the umbrella and boots to the back closet. While doing so, I thought to myself ... if I move these, it will probably start raining again. Sure enough, I woke up to cats, dogs this morning.

Not wanting to swim to the Pain Cave, I’m tempted to opt out today, but no. Not exercising nearly as much as I should, on off Pain Cave days, I can’t afford to not workout today.

The second set of photos is due to arrive today. Checking tracking I see the status is “out for delivery”. Hopefully the photos make it to the correct mailbox this time.

As for the first set of photos, the ones placed in the wrong mail slot and can't be traced, I haven’t yet run into my buddy Apache to ask him to keep an eye out for who has possession of the photos when chatting it up with the fellas or visiting other units. I did, however, run into Handsome Man, who made a good point — that the individual keeping the photos was not only violating my privacy but committing a theft of property crime.

At any rate, Handsome said he’d keep an eye out, let me know if he sees or hears anything, then started in again on how he’s looking for a “good woman”.

We’d already established in a prior conversation that woman would not be me, because I’m much too happy with my status quo to risk letting some guy enter my life and disrupt its peaceful flow, so I suggested he might take an interest in my Next Door Neighbor. After all, she did express interest in him years ago. She'd invited him to dinner, he accepted and I heard no more about it, but I didn't tell him I knew all this. Instead, I said "_______ is single".

“Oh nooooooooo” was his reply as he looked away from me, shook his head and shuttered.

Whaaaaaaaat?!, thought I.

What’s the extreme reaction about?

I continued with “Why? …. She’s nice looking”.

Again, he looked away, shook his head and uttered an emphatic, “Nooooo! ... No thanks!”.

Puzzling.

“You’re just too hard to please”, said I as I turned to head to my unit.

“As are you”, he replied.

Touché ... I am, but how did he know? LOL.

On another note, I’m not watching any of the Impeachment proceedings. It’s a bad movie. A movie we already knew the ending before the movie even started. A movie with a zero % rotten tomatoes rating.

Holding My Breath

Received tracking notification that the second set of photos has shipped, due to arrive on the 12th.

I’m holding my breath that the two photo packets are placed in MY mail slot this time. If not, there will be a third print request indicating “pickup” rather than mail to home.

I have a feeling that, sooner or later, I’ll know who it is that’s confiscated the first set of photos because one of two things will happen.

One, when I pass the culprit on the property, he will have a twinge of guilty conscious that will cause him to look down at the ground, rather than up at my eyes OR, instead of a twinge of conscious, he will be the kind of person who feels they’ve put one over and smirk.

Either way, when I see the tell tail sign, I’ll know and have decided I’ll point at the person in a way that says “It’s you. I know it and you know it”.

That should make him feel uncomfortable thinking that somehow I’ve found him out if he's guilty, think nothing of the pointing as anything other than a greeting if innocent.

Two, the culprit will brag or show and tell or another resident visiting the culprit’s unit will see my pics, spill the beans, and the grapevine will do the rest. To this end, I’m going to alert my buddy Apache and Handsome Man to keep their eyes and ears open.

In the end, somehow I’ll find out or the Universe will just let me know … it generally always does.

Other than trying to get photos to complete the Creative Memory album, this month is all about appointments.

First is a dental appointment for a cleaning. Hopefully Dr. McDreamy is in office, so I can get my fix of handsome.

Another appointment is computer related.

I don’t know if the puter has a virus or it’s just a symptom of the latest unsolicited unwanted Microsoft upgrade, but it keeps locking and shutting itself off.

Getting an appointment for tech service is much like getting an appointment for the Covid virus shot in that appointments are few and far between, but I’ve got one towards end of month. That is .. an appointment with the Geek Squad, not anywhere for the shot. I’m not planning on getting the shot until I learn more about what the long-term effects are.

The other appointment is for that Apple iPod. Less than a year old, it stopped working little over a month ago, won’t recharge and the battery light indicates dead as a doornail.

Pre-pandemic, I could walk in and get both items serviced same time. Now it all by appointments only and separate appointments for separate items.

So many petty annoyances this month and, with so many desperate people on the loose in the neighborhood, it’s not safe to get out and walk it off. In fact, crime is on the rise all over. It’s not safe anywhere.

All in all, I’m looking at a risk-taking month — going places I really don’t want to go but of necessity must, while holding my breath pics are delivered correctly.

Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

Due to the rain, thus far the weekend has been cold and dreary.

Having secured groceries in advance of the rain, I had no need to leave my warm little unit and decided to be a slouch in that, after soothing bubble baths, I’ve been getting right back into a pair of onesie pajamas. Then, of course, I do my usual makeup and perfume ─ because I’ll only go so far with being a slouch. LOL.

Scrapbook supplies had been arriving so, with photos sorted out, timeline developed, I’ve been able to play catch up with the Creative Memory album. I’m now current as of August 2019. There are a few events in early 2020 to input but, inasmuch as life slowed down after that ─ due to the pandemic, then came to a screeching halt, only a handful of virtual 5Ks will need to be added. After that, future generations, looking through my album, will see a series of blank pages.

Who knew?

Who could have expected?

Now that the body has recovered from that full body workout, I’m anxious to try again ─ thinking that, if I perform the movements in slow motion, the body will eventually adjust to the harder routine. So, at tomorrow’s session with Trainer, I’m going to propose we give it another go ─ maybe on a Friday, so I’ll have the weekend to recover.

In other words ... Please Sir, May I Have Some More?

I’ll leave you with a few Bernie memes that cracked me up.

This last one is actually from a crochet pattern on Etsy. I didn't make it ... a friend did, BUT how did whoever came up with the pattern, get this out there so quickly after Bernie's appearance set off the memes?

It's a mystery.

17 Months 3,594+ Hours Later

I finally finished the needlepoint I’ve been working on, daily, for what seems like forever — the one for Twin 2.

The frame I ordered is way too big, so I’ll save the reveal for when the new frame arrives and this masterpiece is ready to be presented.

There will be none for other family members, because my girls are the only ones who can appreciate possessing something made by me. Cash is the only thing the grandkids treasure.

Back in the day, when fabric was cheap ─ which made it more economical to sew rather than purchase, I made most of what the girls wore.

They loved it, bragged “My mom made this” until they hit that period in life of not wanting to be matchy matchy twins.

Leftover fabric went into quilts for the two of them, which quilts the girls hung onto into adulthood.

These many years later, Twin 2 probably has her quilt in storage somewhere. Twin 1’s quilt was stolen when, at one point during her prodigal experience, she had to move back in with me when I was living in that now super expensive heart of town building with the loft.

The quilt had been washed, was in the laundry room dryer and, when Twin 1 returned to retrieve, it was gone … stolen.

She posted a notice in the laundry room, imploring the thief to return it, saying, “My mom made that quilt for me when I was a little girl”.

No go. The quilt was never returned.

What some people do, for no rational reason, astounds me.

A neighbor in that building said, when she’d removed her clothes from the dryer, her panties were gone. No kidding. Someone had gone through and stolen all her panties.

Weird as that seems, that is something I can understand, it had a reason. The thief was probably a panty sniffing pervert — though he wasn’t likely to get much out of clean ones. But the quilt was old and worn by then, so taking it made no sense whatsoever.

Even here ... we’ve been warned to stay with our clothes as they wash and dry in the laundry room, because someone was stealing sheets and towels.

Pathetic.

At any rate, though I won’t be making a needlepoint for anyone else, including granddaughter, I did make her a doll ─ when she was little which, surprisingly, she’s held onto.

Then

Now

Laundered so many times over the years, fabric old and worn, the doll needs a hair transplant, leg surgery, not to mention some clothes.

Though, I can and do occasionally sew, I’ve grown out of it and don’t like sewing that much. So, granddaughter will either have to find a doll hospital (do they still have those?) to do the surgery or learn to sew, fix it herself. 

Nowadays it’s the easy way out for me with granddaughter, and other family members other than my girls, which is cash for birthdays ─ though granddaughter hardly needs it now that she’s married to that rich white boy, and nothing for Christmas.

Speaking of dolls, the voodoo doll has three new additional pins. One in the head for Sandra, one in each knee for Dawn the Bohemian.

That guy has made so much trouble for himself, that sticking pins in a doll with his likeness seems redundant. From what I’m hearing on the news, if we really want to cause him grief, we only have to shout “Richard Nixon, Richard Nixon, Richard Nixon” at him. LOL.

I’d essentially put all other things around here on hold last two years, as I worked on first, that needlepoint project for Twin 1, then Twin 2. It now feels strange to not have a needle in my hands when sitting on the couch watching television. 

A multitasker by nature, I’m rarely doing just one thing ─ either simultaneously listening to/watching television while crafting or reading or browsing the internet, reading blogs, or on the computer entering data into my budget tracker or playing Candy Crush or checking video on tiktok.

So, It feels strange to now not be multitasking, needle in hand, but my hands won’t be needle-free for long, because I already have my next project at the ready.

However, I’m being strict with me — forcing myself to wait until I get caught up on, first, my neglected Creative Memory Album then a few other things that require updating, because I can get lost in needlepoint and never get anything else done for another few years.

I’ve already started in on sorting photos, trying to make sense of where they belong in the timeline, and it ain’t easy since photos are cued up as far back as late 2018, with no notations as to date.

The blog is helpful in that I’ve posted activities, with photos, can scroll back, match, and get a handle on things. In fact, waking up early this morning, I began browsing old posts, beginning November 2018, looking to match photos and ended up reading those old posts, cracking myself up, as I had no idea my day-to-day existence could be so entertaining. 

So, other than completing one project, starting in on another, and continuing to workout with trainer, I’m transfixed to CNN’s reporting on the after mat of the insurrection. 

It is so interesting to see the reaction of those tracked down by the FBI. 

Talk about having one’s white privilege bubble burst. 

When confronted by the FBI, they seem so surprised to be tracked down and for why. It’s like “What? … Me? … I’m no terrorist … I’m just a regular person”. One arrestee (Rick Saccone, the former Pennsylvania state lawmaker who handed his cell phone to his wife and recorded , ‘We are trying to run out all the evil people and RINOs that have betrayed our president’) said, when tracked down by the FBI, “We were just playing, having fun”.

People died, people were injured, terrorized, traumatized and “We were just playing, having fun”?

Listening to the politicians refusing to uphold their oath of office, either out of party affiliation or out of fear and a desire to appease their racists constituents ─ so they can keep their jobs, get reelected, it occurs to me these cowards are making the same mistake No. 45 made in satisfying the few, forgetting about the country as a whole.

Forgetting about people like me, who took no interest in politics, never voted before, satisfied to get along by going along so long as going along was somewhat tolerable. But then No. 45 gave a green light to the racists to openly show themselves, to the degree where going along became so egregious that people like me had no choice but to get involved ... vote. 

These complicit and cowardly politicians are repeating No. 45’s pattern, counting on the few, their racist constituents, and can ultimately kiss their careers goodbye. There are more good people than bad and those good people, together with minority voters who, like me, are now awake, will turn out, as they did with No. 45, and vote for the opponent, whether they like the opponent or not.

Watching all the protective measures set up for next Wednesday’s inauguration ─ the walls, the show of force, my thought is it’s too late. Especially since the threat is not only from the outside, but from the inside ─ members of congress themselves.

Show and Tell

I took a stab yesterday afternoon at being a videographer.  Howsoever, in putting this vid together, I experienced Trumpitis -- that is saying one thing while supposedly meaning another. So, when you hear I “stole from the internet” what I meant was “appropriated/comandeered from the internet”. And of course, “talk to you later” should have been  “type to you later”.