Strange Bedfellows

Seeing Painted Rock Lady walking her dogs down the walkway yesterday, being accompanied by our Karen character is something one doesn’t see every day.

From where and when did Karen get a dog?

Did she borrow it ... volunteer to walk someone else's doggie, or did she purchase a dog to go along with the cat she already has?

Ever since Karen was paired with a Home-Based Therapist, she’s been working towards being nicer, friendlier, getting to know us residents.

I’m not trusting it.

When she waves a greeting to me, I return it, but avoid getting into any kind of a conversation and, thus far, except for when she was chasing Dream Lover, she’s only attended bingo just that one time.

I’m not sure if PRL is buying into this new Karen as I once saw PRL make a knowing face while describing Karen as, "A strange woman".

But whatever.

So, anyway, we had a little rain this morning. Didn’t last long but, now that it’s a bit overcast outside, this change in the weather gives the patio plants a much needed reprieve from the blistering heat.

Done with seeing no tomatoes, no peppers, radishes wilting away, watching even the wildflowers struggling to survive, I’ve pretty much decided to uproot the whole kit/kaboodle, call my attempt at gardening a failure.

This slight change in the weather might give the plants a little more time to show me something, change my mind about uprooting and tossing.

We’ll see.

Because the office is closed tomorrow for some unknown reason, Bingo was switched from tomorrow, Friday, to today.

Isn't it interesting that our caller, PRL, wasn't feeling well enough to attend today.

Is it a coincidence that she was walking with Karen yesterday and today not feeling well?

I think not, as there are people who, for one reason or another, function as energy drains and PRL did say Karen was "strange", then opted to hang with her anyway.

I did okay at bingo today. Won a red soup cup I’ve had my eyes on for some time, but I experienced what can only be described as culture shock when the handful I’ve accepted FB friend requests from, didn’t get the significance of the chair video I’d posted to FB — the same vid I posted on the blog yesterday.

One said, "So that’s what goes on at the gym".

"No", said I. "That was something special".

Another referred to me as "Wonder Woman" for being able to lift and swing the chair.

"You know the significance of it though, don’t you?" asked I.

She did not and looked confused when I tried to explain the Montgomery Boat Dock brawl and how the chair has become one of the symbols of not this time will we let you get away with it.

The Baker said she’d seen the video and, at the time wondered, "What is she doing?"

Again, I tried to explain the Boat Dock to which The Baker said, "Ohhh" like she understood but walked away looking just as confused as ever.

Of course, Homegirl required no explanation. She was all over the boat dock, the chair, Black Aquaman, just as much as I.

Also getting the assignment, needing no explanation, were millennial and gen z friends who have access to my FB — former coworkers, friends I’ve acquired through various 5K events and family.

The difference seems to be that those in my age group, my peers around here, are living on a different plain than I.

Some of us haven’t a clue as to what’s going on outside these gates and obviously could care less.

Speaking of what’s going on in the world outside these gates, I cannot believe the Project Runway judges did not call Brittany out for plagiarizing Prajji’s top tonight.

from Episode 6/the 90s Challenge

Every Day’s an Adventure

Doesn’t look like there’s any saving the patio plants. from the unrelenting rays of the hot sun, no matter how much water I give them.

I did manage, however, to harvest another little radish, which I added to a coleslaw I was making.

Other than that, I’ll continue watering, see what survives after the heat moves on ….. that is IF the heat moves on.

Hearing the news say it’s all due to Climate Change, I wondered ……… Climate Change or Prophecy? because I recalled something from my mom’s Old Testament teaching that, after the earth was cleansed of humanity by the flood, the Old Testament God said that, if we didn’t get our act together, next time he would scorch the earth — heat/fire.

Though I myself am not an Old Testament thinker, the thought is coming from somewhere.

Another thought that came to me this week was that a former coworker once told me, when unpleasant happenings would occur to her, she’d lament to her mom "Why me?", her mom would respond with "Why not you? Why somebody else?"

I remembered that conversation when I awoke on Tuesday morning, two days after that trauma filled Sunday, only to find blood in my right eye.

Then

So, why me? Why not somebody else?

Is it just my turn to experience a little of the manure that hitting the fan now days?

The eye looked so vampire creepy that the plan was, except for working out with Trainer, to hide myself away until the eye cleared up.

How is hiding yourself away from others except for training and the occasional bingo game, any different than your normal modus operandi, thought I.

So, learning it would be a good two/three weeks before the eye cleared up, it’s been business as usual with my brushing off the "what happened to your eye questions" with "I went to bed, stuff happened in my sleep, I woke up like this. Every day I get out of bed is an adventure".

I do wonder, however, if having pepper sprayed myself has something to do with the bloody eye which today looks to me like it’s already clearing up.

Now

Mouse Trap, Part 2

Meat Man escaped the trap Homegirl and I planned in the Community Room.

He didn’t show during the class.

I didn’t want to stick around for bingo, so Homegirl and I exchanged telephone numbers. She’ll call me to come down when next she encounters her stalker.

We don’t have a script. We just want to see the look on his face when he sees both of us together and realizes we’ve been sharing stories about his unsuccessful gameplay.

The class on entertainment for no or low cost was kinda interesting. Activity Director is going to send me an application for a program that enables me to "cut the cable cord and get your movies and TV shows from Hulu, Netflix, Amazon Prime" at less than what I’m currently paying for cable.

Inasmuch as cable/internet is costing me $210.97 monthly, I’m open to possibly losing some of my favorite cable shows if the difference in price is worth it.

Other suggestions for free entertainment were "Take a free class at your local gardening center or craft store; Check out reduced cost movies at a theatre; Visit local museums on their monthly free museum days; Take a walking tour of your area with friends".

Saying I’d be up for a walking tour, because I need to get back to training but it’s no longer safe to walk this neighborhood, Activity Director directed me to Redland’s Umbrella Alley.

Evidently, alleys decorated with hundreds of multicolor umbrellas (450 here), to block the sun’s rays, is a thing word wide.

I dunno. The alley doesn't look long enough to provide much walking exercise and, the last time I encountered an alley, the smell of urine turned me away from the business I was heading for.

Also, last time I was in Redlands — which is considered a premier area, there were more unhoused people on the streets than we have around here.

Consequently, I won’t be making a special trip to check it out. However, next time I’m at the craft store in that area, I might take a looksee.

Inasmuch as the wildflowers on the patio are surviving the hot dry weather, but there’s no signs of life from the hot peppers and tomato seeds, a free class at the gardening center is a good idea.

I'm leaving the radishes to do as they will until I get around to digging them up and restarting in a larger pot, less seeds.

Not Even Close

Rough start to the day.

Waking up with the usual run through my head of what today’s plan was to be, I couldn’t figure out which day of the week this was.

I recalled yesterday was a workout day, so thought today might be Saturday. But then, I couldn’t remember viewing Friday Night Mystery last night.

Maybe I just forgot yesterday was Friday and missed viewing the show, thought I, ergo today must be Saturday, the night I watch Midsomer Murders.

But then I remembered the last thing I watched last night was a baking show, and the baking show doesn’t air on Friday.

Now thoroughly confused as to which day of the week this was, I got out of bed, turned on the TV, which the guide indicated today was Tuesday.

Good Grief!, I wasn’t even close. This week has barely started.

Oh well, onward and upwards.

Once I figured out this was a free day — no place I must go, nothing I had to do, I once again tackled the printer issues.

Took a little while but, after a few uninstall, reboot, install, reboot, uninstall, reboot, install, reboot the Smart app finally stop trying to connect to the old printer I’d deleted, began communicating with the new one, and the print, copy, scan functions finally began operating as they should.

Add tech support to my list of skills.

Checking on the patio plants, I see no signs of tomatoes or hot peppers, but decided to farm the bigger radishes to make room for the others in the pot to have room grow.

I’d planned for zucchini salad for lunch, would have included my two tiny radishes, but decided on a S’more and coffee for lunch instead.

S’mores are addictive.

While sitting on the couch, enjoying lunch, I saw a resident I early on called Loud Mouth in the blog, but then began referring to her by the name residents refer to her as — Big Linda.

She was being walked around by a caregiver.

So it’s come to that, thought I, a caregiver.

Long time readers may recall Big Linda as one of three bullies we had/have on the property. The other two being Little Linda (still here) and Ruthie (still here and almost made me lose it in bingo last week when she wouldn’t stop making rude and bullying comments).

Big Linda hasn’t been an issue around here since just before the Pandemic, when she fell, broke her back. Today was actually the first time I’ve seen her since her accident, learned she was still living here, still alive as no one ever speaks of her.

Prior to the accident slowing her down, she tried to drill sergeant everyone in and around the complex. Retired military, she was always yelling at folks as to what they could and could not do, attending events in the Community Room only to "hush" people because she must have thought the room should be run as a library and wanted quiet.

Sometimes, she’d just sit there and put her fingers in her ears to indicate how displeased she was with others talking.

In the process of trying to control everyone and everything, she’d made so many enemies in the complex that residents would spit on her car. The spitting got to be so bad that she found it necessary set up a camera facing the car, then posted a note to the car window … "Do not spit on this car. You are being watched".

It didn’t help her likeability when she ingratiated herself with that horrible terrible Nurse Ratched manager by acting as her Snitch.

When it became known Big Linda was a snitch, I recall saying it wouldn’t get her far because the devil eventually turns on its own minions. So it didn’t surprise me in the least when she went to her buddy Nurse Ratched for some issue she was having with Older Sister thinking that, because she was Ratched’s snitch, she’d have the upper hand. Instead, Ratched yelled "I’m too busy, don’t bother me with that!". Whereupon Big Linda came out of the office area whinning "There’s just no communication! They don’t communicate to each other, and they don’t communicate with us!"

Boo Hoo!

So, anyway, her little reign of terror is now a distant memory.

I feel for her caregiver. Working with Big Linda can’t be easy or fun. That is, unless the injury and so much time alone in her unit has given her time to reflect, changed her into a nicer human.

Talker has "postponed" her move to San Diego.

The two sisters — Big Sister and Little Sister have moved out under mysterious circumstances, saying each is going to live with a different relative.

I don’t see that working out, so maybe they’ll see it’s better with the two of them living together, helping each other, and move back.

Casino Lady, who was living with her sister, lost her sister a few weeks ago to a heart condition but, so far as I know, is showing no signs of leaving the complex.

The guy that moved into the bad energy unit hasn’t packed up and fled yet, so I guess everything is A-Okay inside or he’s just totally clueless to what others might recognize as strange.

That can happen. Some people are just immune, can't see what's happening right in front of their face, and he does appear to be kind of a geeky little fellow.

However, as I aways say .... time will tell.

And Just Like That

It’s Monday again.

Except for a delivery that went wrong, I pretty much was able to lock myself away — not have to go anywhere, not have to do anything outside.

For some unknown reason, UPS failed to deliver a tank top and head buff I’d ordered to be shipped to my home address. Instead, UPS dropped it off at a drop off point for me to pick up.

When UPS can’t get through the gate, for one reason or another, the alternative drop off point is on the corner, within walking distance, a few doors down from the market, but I guess that would have been too easy.

UPS chose to drop the package off at the CVS Pharmacy three miles up the road.

I didn’t even know that pharmacy was a drop off point, but okay, not a biggie to pick it up.

I could have walked the three miles, and should have, but I’m still leery of walking those three miles ever since that guy with a knife scared me off the route, so I drove. Which was probably best because I was feeling loopy and dizzy again. It was like I was sleepwalking as I kept stumbling, tripping over my own two feet when crossing the pharmacy parking lot.

Last time I gave this pharmacy any mind was shortly after the unaliving of George Floyd in 2020. People were angry hurt disgusted venting and the low life's took advantage of that time of upheaval to pillage shops and stores in the area, including this pharmacy.

While out walking a few days after the pillaging, I’d spotted some of the aftermath of two nights of looting. As a precaution to possibly another night of looting, the pharmacy’s front glass entrance had been boarded up, the side entrance glass doors were also boarded, with only a narrow opening to enter/exit.

Before

Before

But for the group of unhoused guys I saw who's set up camp behind the pharmacy, it looks like everything is back to normal, and probably has been for a long while without my noticing as I drove by multiple times since 2020, except there was something weird about the signage .......... I don’t recall ever seeing the "yMas" before, which I read as Christmas without the x.

After

However, looking at the old photos, I see "yMas" was branded even before the looting. Research indicates it means "and More" in Spanish — "The stores are designed to cater to Hispanic clientele offering an extended product selection, and bilingual staff".

Big Woop thought I, inasmuch as this is California and I didn't see the need to specify, but the signage has given me another Spanish word to add to my repertoire.

After that short foray into the outside world, the remainder of the weekend was indoors.

I came thisclose to getting caught up on the great grandbaby's scrapbook, with only the photos of his first swimming lesson and his 1st Birthday Party to be added which, after those photos are added, is a good place to set aside scrapbooking for a while so I don't end up with a bazillion books great grandbaby may or may not value later in life.

Besides scrapbooking is looking to get a lot more overwhelming, inasmuch as granddaughter and hubby planned for another baby to be born close in age to the baby, initiated that plan and are now expecting a little girl.

Just what we need — more kids in this dysfunctional family.

Moving forward, my plan is to, rather than trying to keep up with every photo, producing multiple books during the year, collect photos and, at the end of the year, put together a book for that time period.

That should significantly reduce the number of memory books, as I turn my attention to stitching up a quilt to welcome a great granddaughter to the menagerie.

After squeezing in a few hours over the weekend, to work on that needlepoint project, I began gleaning the patio plant that looked to be in trouble, as Pam and other commenters suggested, AND whatdoyaknow …………

Color me stupid but, even though radish purchased from the supermarket have long stems and leaves on them, I did not know they grew in the ground. I was waiting to see fruitage from the plant to appear up top, hanging from the vine — same thing I’m expecting to see with the other two plants (tomato and hot pepper).

Live and learn.

So, anyway, now that I know there are radishes growing in the pot, my next question is ……………… when do I harvest them?

Curiouser and Curiouser! cried Alice

But for the fact this is an income restricted government assisted senior complex, I’d swear the place was up for sale.

I can think of no other reason why, all of a sudden, the paving project, and now management giving notice that maintenance will be painting the patio railings.

The patio railings don’t need painting. They’re black, not rusted.

What I myself need is for maintenance to repair my leaky kitchen faucet which, btw, Head Maintenance Guy supposedly already fixed.

The faucet probably needs a new washer, but I experienced the results of HMG’s washer replacement jobs when he repaired the bathroom sink three different times thus far, rendering it pretty much inoperable the normal way of pulling the knob up to open/push down to close. I now open the sink drain by sticking a knife to lift the stopper.

I don't trust him to fiddle further with it, so I’ll wait for the opportune moment to talk to someone directly, ask for a real maintenance person to come in and repair properly.

What I need is not pressing, so I can wait for the moment to strike. However, what other residents need is more pressing.

One resident told me there’s some kind of leak in her refrigerator causing mold to appear. I wasn’t clear as to whether the mole is happening inside the refrigerator or on the floor surrounding the appliance.

Another said she put in a workorder on the 19th of last month, that the handle on — she either told me refrigerator or oven, I don’t recall which, but whichever it is, the handle on the door has fallen off.

Another said she put in a request for maintenance to take a look at her countertop — it’s cracking and peeling.

Bottom line is there are far more important things for maintenance to take care of than repainting the railings.

Thinking a sale of the property might be the point of all the outside sprucing up, I researched the complex but found nothing online indicating a sale being imminent.

The only other option is a big assed rent increase coming.

I recently learned, from someone in the know, that the property has "investors".

How does a senior complex have investors?

Does that mean Corporate is a conglomerate of investors?

If so, sounds like easy money to me and I’d like to get in on it. I wanna invest.

Curiouser and Curiouser is that management closed the office yesterday and had some sort of closed door meetings.

Inasmuch as there was a slew of fancy cars parked out front of the office, I’m assuming the meeting was with Corporate types.

Curiouser and curiouser indeed.

On another note, the wildflowers Activity Director helped me start seem to be thriving out on the patio. However, the vegetables I started — Radish, Hot Pepper, Tomato, look to be in trouble.

I know some of you have a natural talent for growing plants — for sure I know Jennifer over at Burning Moonlight and Mitchell’s San Geraldo are amongst those gifted with green thumbs, so will one of you tell me please …… what am I doing wrong?

Too much water, too little water, the heat of the sun?

Rain, Monday, May Day Paving and the Goats

Seeing cars parked as normal, when I went to bed last night, I set the alarm for an early morning wakeup call to watch what I expected to be the spectacle of cars being towed in mass.

From my vantage point this morning, I not only could see cars parked in their regular spots, but laughed when I saw rain — thinking the rain would interfere with Day 1 of the paving project.

Laugh was on me because, by the time I’d showered and dressed, that landscape had changed — workers had arrived and began putting in what I later learned were speed bumps regardless of the rain; cars had moved, some were in the process of doing so.

Walking to this morning’s workout in the rain wasn’t fun for me but, on the way, I did see that four of our residents had managed parking along the curb next to the auto parts store. A fifth tried to fit in at the tail end, but there wasn’t enough curb remaining.

Next Door Neighbor managed to rent a garage here on the property, the rear of 7-Eleven held a few cars, and the market lot got the load.

I doubt the market people even know where all the cars came from, and I had a feeling that, end of today, folks would sneak their cars back onto the premises.

It didn’t take that long.

The paving crew left at noon, whereupon Head Maintenance Guy retrieved his car and parked it in its usual spot.

When Red Light questioned this, Assistant Maintenance Guy told her it was okay for others to park.

All in all, the day did not turn into the disaster I was expecting. Everyone seemed to manage one way or another.

I did not see any tows and Shadow, who sits outside the gate in his walker all day, watching the comings/goings, assured me no cars were towed today.

Though I didn’t enjoy walking to the Pain Cave in the rain, the plants I started — and are thus far surviving in the heat on the patio, enjoyed it.

Bottom layer are the wildflowers Activity Director showed me how to start, and poor now dead Audrey.

Top are the vegetables I started — Radish, Hot Pepper, Tomato but, with no identifying stick, I won’t know which is which until vegetables appear.

As you can see, I added an Adirondack side table to match the chair — both of which I assembled all by myself.

I won’t say I have a Green Thumb because I haven’t a clue as to what I’m doing. I just planted the seeds in dirt, give them a little water now and then, and the rest is just happening. Whereas Upstairs Lady tells me none of her plants have sprouted, she got sick of waiting for something to happen and tossed them out.

So maybe it’s attitude, our differing energies — mine patient, calm, letting nature take its course, making the difference.

As for the goats — if you will recall, I'd commented in the videos I posted a few days ago that the goats on the mountain being utilized as lawnmowers seemed very close to the roadway. In fact, there was just a simple chain link fence, recently installed to keep them in, between the goats and the road.

Well, the goats got out.

Twin 2 was fortunate enough to be on that stretch of road at the right time, saw the herd had gotten out, blocked both sides of the road and, as the goatherder and his dog corralled them back in, one was being defiant.

Leaps and Bounds

We’re going to have to start taking reservations for seating, as our little bingo game has been growing by leaps and bounds.

In fact, after Wheelchair Lady took my preferred seat last time, said “I’M SITTING HERE!” even after others at the table told her “That’s where Shirley sits”, Upstairs Lady (the resident who has problems with her legs and should have gotten that downstairs unit) set up a water bottle and miscellaneous other objects to prevent Wheelchair Lady from taking the seat at the opposite end of our table, a seat she was saving for her friend.

To ensure I myself got my preferred seat this time, I changed my schedule of popping into the market after the morning’s workout, then heading to bingo after unloading groceries and instead headed straight back to the complex, changed clothes, headed to the Community Room and arrived not five minutes before Wheelchair Lady rolled herself in.

Looks like she and I will be playing this cat/mouse game again — who’s gets there first, as she didn’t look none too pleased I’d beaten her to where she now wants to sit.

Next time I think I’ll head straight to the Community Room after working out, put my water bottle and bag in my preferred seating spot, then head upstairs to change clothes. However, I won't be surprised if Wheelchair Lady arrives an hour early to foil my plan to outwit her, LOL.

It’s getting to be survivor of the fastest. Battle of the seats.

Truth be known, no one actually wants to sit with Wheelchair Lady. She’s bossy, spoiled, has shown herself to be competitive — as witnessed by the fact that when she won a game, called Bingo, another wheelchair resident simultaneously won, called Bingo and when both headed to the prize table, Wheelchair lady spun her wheelchair away from the table so fast that it was almost a blur, and sped to get to the prize table first. Even gloated to the other wheelchair lady, "HA! I beat you".

As for being spoiled ... because she’s in a chair, we often cater to her — bring whatever is being served at the break to her so she doesn’t have to struggle getting to.

Observing the speed in which she turned that chair around to get to the prize table first, I’m now beginning to think the struggle is an act.

Upstairs Lady did tell us, a few bingo games ago, Wheelchair Lady can walk, that she’s seen her walk and actually used the word "hate" — said she can’t stand Wheelchair Lady, hates her because she uses her disability to play the princess while she, Upstairs Lady, doesn’t ask or want anyone to do for her when, even though it’s a struggle, she can do for herself … just as she says Wheelchair Lady could if she wanted to and should.

I don’t disbelieve Upstairs Lady when she says Wheelchair Lady can walk, so I’ve been on the lookout for signs of that.

I did notice she was wearing pretty nice sturdy looking walking shoes when she rolled in yesterday, which begs the thought that if you are confined to a wheelchair, can’t walk, why would you be dressed in sturdy walking shoes.

So anyway, along with our bingo game growing by leaps and bounds, so are the seedlings Activity Director showed me how to start a few weeks ago.

After adding Audrey to the Wildflower Mixture lineup, the kitchen windowsill wasn’t working for me and my little buddha figurines, so I moved Audrey and the wildflowers to the bedroom window.

Audrey is not doing as well as the other seedlings. She was looking a little peaked and down to her last mouth.

Upstairs Lady was also in Activity Director’s seedlings class and tells me nothing has yet to sprout for her. So, inasmuch as my two wildflower seedlings seem to want to grow here, I’ve decided to keep them and gave a corner of the patio to them ... and Audrey. A corner that won’t interfere with my Holiday decorating and which gives them a little shelter when the sun is unrelenting.

This being outdoors gives Audrey a fighting chance to survive, capture the bugs she needs that I’m not prepared to capture and feed to her.

I hope she gets those little gnats that seem to like hanging around the screen door, pestering me when I walk outside.

My other plants — the vegetable seedlings, also are growing by leaps and bounds.

Though I started Radish, Hot Pepper, Jelly Bean Hybrid Tomatoes, I don’t know which is which because, wanting to be surprised by what grew, I didn’t put an identifying stick in the pot.

Now that I’ve a vertical planter outside, I’m thinking that, before the day is over, I’ll add another layer and move the veggie seedlings outside as well.

In a way, I'm a little sorry I ever got started with these plants as I don't need another hobby and the watering/replanting is a bit of work, not to mention that plant food might be the next issue I have to consider.

But they're here now, so .......................

Catching the Rain

Today was a good day to stay indoors, as it is once again raining cats and dogs.

Unfortunately, today being a workout day, I had to suit up, do the pain cave thing.

One good thing about having to move the car from the carport and park in the pain cave’s parking lot is that I don’t have to wash the car. The rain washed it for me.

Another good thing about the rain is the dead spots in the complex lawn, caused by the drought, are turning green. The landscapers no longer have to paint the lawn.

Activity Director followed through in providing pots for our starter plants, but the pots she provided are not what I was expecting.

Dull and too big for windowsill

I was expecting something small, cute, feminine so I headed to the garden center of Home Depot yesterday to find pots more to my liking.

Didn’t find anything to suit my fancy — even tried Lowe’s, but I did find seeds to start my little windowsill garden.

I also picked up a little plant that looked interesting.

I know what I’ve purchased, but I’m wondering how many of you know what it is.

Need a hint?

I’ve named her Audrey.

So anyway, care instructions say Audrey likes rainwater, which got me to thinking that if Audrey likes rainwater, the others may as well. Thus, catching the rain.

Now that I’ve got the seeds to grow edibles, like Activity Director had initially planned, the question is what to do with the two starter pots of what will grow into flowers.

They’re already sprouting, which to me means they are a living thing and though I don’t really want them now that I’ve got what I want, I don’t want to trash them, unalive them.

I once did purposely unalive a plant and the guilt plagues me.

It was back in ‘79 when I was working in the Business Office of a company for a decent guy by the name of Pete.

Married and not having an affair, Pete nevertheless had a groupie by the name of Kathy who, though not the office manager, was a bit overbearing and acted as though she were.

No one stood up to Kathy, no one dared cross her, including me because of my being Black and having to play the submissive game in order to stay employed.

Because Kathy was crushing on my boss, she was always hovering around, bossing me, getting on my nerves and me with no way to fight back.

EXCEPT Kathy, whose office was clear on the other side of the floor, put her favorite plant right next to my boss’s door, which was right next to my desk — sort of like a dog pissing on its territory.

Inasmuch as I had to bite my tongue and keep my face straight when Kathy pushed my buttons, I revenged myself on her plant.

At the end of the day, if I had coffee left over in my cup, I’d toss it into the soil of her plant. Same with soda.

Kathy’s plant began to fade and fade and fade until one day, when she was hovering around my area, she looked at her plant, noticed it was dying or dead, let out a distressed, "What’s happening to my plant!", then grabbed it up as one would a child and rushed it out of the area. Probably took it back to her area where it should have been all along.

It’s been something like 43 years and, though I got a perverse pleasure out of getting back at Kathy, I do feel a measure of guilt because I appreciate plants and consider them a form of life.

That being said, I have to think of a guilt free way to dispose of the two starter plants.

Maybe I’ll sneak outside in the dark some night, and plant them in the dirt at the end of the stairs.

If they take root and grow into flowers, the landscapers will of course, dig them up, but that will be their guilt, not mine.

She Did, They Didn’t

In spite of it raining cats and dogs, Activity Director did show up with dirt, seeds, starter pots; but we were not regaled with a perp walk today.

Seeing you know who being perp walked in the rain would have been AWESOME. However, like Scarlett O’Hara said to Rhett Butler in Gone with The Wind, "There is always hope. After all, tomorrow is another day".

I did enjoy Mary Trump’s take, describing her uncle as being "stochastic" — pulling from his usual playbook by calling on supporters to protest, using the same play he always does.

As far as I know, protests were few.

I did read some supporters were planning a bank run form of protesting — remove money from the bank in an attempt to crash the system.

To this, I laughed and laughed and laughed because I could imagine criminals lining up to follow and rob those protestors of said cash — a crime that’s being called "bank jugging", which has me paying close attention to what cars are behind me, as I drive back to the complex after a withdrawal.

In one jugging robbery, the bad guys followed a woman 24 miles, all the way to her front door to relieve her of cash withdrawn.

So anyway, no perp walk, no jugging today.

Activity Director impressed me with showing up on such a lousy day. However, instead of starting our "Own Healthy Garden. Learn about healthy HERBS and start your own garden!" we ended up with FLOWERS.

When I pointed out that I can’t eat flowers, AD said we could plant them in the areas outside our units or in the Community Garden.

"Can’t do that. It’s not allowed", said I with others in attendance chiming in that the landscapers were long ago ordered to destroy the rose gardens and any other plants residents had planted, and we were told nothing was to be planted on complex grounds … that we do not have privy to the ground outside our patios. Furthermore, the Community Garden, a Certified Wildlife Habitat, was also destroyed.

AD was surprised, said she’d see if she could get the rule changed about personal plants (silly girl), and doubly surprised about the Community Garden as the other Corporate owned communities still have theirs.

The way I remember it ... one of our previous Managers (I don't recall which) went to pull up the Wildlife Certification sign and was told by the residents who'd paid for the certification, provided all the plants, benches, and maintained the area, that she couldn't do that, couldn't just decertify it by pulling up the sign.

"I can do anything I want", said she and proved it.

Original Community Garden

Community Garden Unauthorized Changes
by Management

Community Garden Now

Why the Community Garden residents that witnessed the slaughter did not report her to the Wildlife Federation, which would have resulted in consequences for Corporate and the Manager, I do not know, but what was once a peaceful Garden of Eden sitting area, is now scorched earth.

So anyway, next week AD will be bringing in terra cotta pots to transfer our plants into.

I’ll be very surprised if my starter plants are still alive by then, as I lost my Green Thumb some time ago.