Did You Make an Appointment?

Received an email on Saturday from Debra of She Who Seeks that Michael’s Craft Store was selling 46" Flytrap.

I thought Michael’s had long ago gone out of business, converted to an online store, but quickly googled, learned there was still a Michaels in Redlands — a doable 30-minute drive. So, I headed out in the heat yesterday, to check the plant out.

It was huge.

Fortunately, there was a 36" option.

It even has a spider on one of the bulbs.

There was even a door wreath available.

I passed on the door wreath.

I also passed on the cute doggie by the door, as Skelly the Skeleton already has a dog/Cujo, that I'm thinking of rehoming.

The 36" I chose is potted.

The plant is described as being a mixture of styrofoam, polyethylene, polyester, PVC, iron wire, cement, and labeled "for indoor décor use", but it didn't say "only", so we'll see how it handles outside.

I’m not at all sure that anything, other than the iron wiring, is good feng shui; but I’ve got enough good energy around to counter if the other materials are problematic.

So, anyway, the plan was to free Audrey from the pot it’s planted in, add it to the skeleton planter but, the material holding it in place is immune to the drill, screwdriver and hammer chisel, so I ended up positioning it as is and not liking it.

Reeassessing the arrangement this morning, I realized I could plant Audrey, pot and all, inside the skeleton planter and did.

Maybe the heat of the sun will soften the material, and I can chisel Audrey out of the pot altogether; but the current situation, of placing the plant, pot and all, in the skeleton planter with the little 25-inch Audrey, is working.

Returning from Michaels I found I was blocked from getting up the walkway and the stairs by three dirt bikes, lined up in a row.

I correctly assumed the bikes belong to people visiting White Haired Neighbor, started to yell up that I was blocked, but instead decided to maneuver my body through, around, between the bikes, careful not to knock one over.

Having made it through the first two bikes, the last bike being positioned right in front of the stairs, was more challenging. However, the way it was leaning, gave me just enough space to squeeze through, plant my feet on the first step.

Having managed the gauntlet, walking up the stairs, WHN’s door opened.

To prevent whoever was planning on coming out from running into me, knocking me back down the stairs I'd worked so hard to access, I said, "I’m coming up". The door closed.

Just as I reached my door, WHN’s door opened again. She and a handsome man, who she introduced as her son, and two young boys, introduced as her grandsons stepped out.

"You made it through the bikes", said her son.

"If my hips had been any wider, I’d not have made it", said I, and they all laughed.

Seeing me holding a 36" Venus Flytrap, WHN said, "I like your plant. Getting ready for Halloween".

"Not really?" said I. "I'm Halloween all year round."

"A lot of people are", said she.

I wish some of that lot of people were living here, so I wasn't the only one with a fetish for skeletons and other oddities, LOL.

Before I got inside my unit, WHN asked, "Did you ever call down and make arrangements to get your pipe cleared?"

"No. It’s like I said, if they don’t care, I don’t care".

"I still don’t understand", said she. "He was here, the equipment was here. It was just mean".

She’s not wrong.

Later that evening, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Looking through the blinds in the kitchen, I saw it was the Talker.

I was not appropriately dressed for company …… wearing only a tank top and panties. So, I opened the door a crack, went to say, "I don’t have any pants on" and before I could finish the sentence, she said, "I don’t care. I’m mad" and barged right in.

So, there I was not fully clothed and took a guess at what had so disturbed her. "MAGA?", said I.

"MAGA, Painted Rock Lady and Lu", said she; all three now being described as "Those bitches". LOL.

After she’d got some of what upset her out …… enough to calm down to where I could point out the absurdity of my state of undress, I told her to "sit", went to the backroom, slipped on shorts, and let her talk about the girls having let her down, a breakup with that 50-year-old she was dating, and family issues for 2 hours.

She was not only over it all by the time she left, but laughing. So, my work was done.

However, the thing is …… since it seems I can no longer let myself be comfortable in my own space, because folks are knocking, catching me in various stages of undress, I'm seriously thinking about changing my boots doormat to something like this ……

Or this ……

Knock Knock Knock, Day 2

Shortly after noon today, there was another knock knock knock on the door.

It can't be little Knock Knock, because she’d gone home with her parents, thought I; and assumed correctly it had to be my White-Haired Neighbor, once again catching me wrapped in my sarong, because I had no intentions to seize the day.

She said maintenance was currently in her unit. That she’d approached one of the maintenance guys when she saw him outside, he had grabbed his equipment, come up to her unit, was currently addressing the condensation pipe over the tub, clearing the pipe of dust and grime so her tub would not get the rust stains I’d spoken of.

Interesting …… inasmuch as we are warned not to approach the guys when they are out and about, that we absolutely must put in a workorder.

She said that, since he was here, did I want him to clear my pipe as well.

I said sure, quickly dressed in day wear.

Then, she knocked again, had a what the hell look on her face, said she doesn’t understand it but maintenance had said no, they could not clear my pipe, that I’d have to put in a work order.

"That doesn’t surprise me", said I.

"But they are here now, and you’re right next door", said she.

"Yes. I know it doesn't make sense, that it’s petty", said I, "But not making sense is how things work around here".

"Since he’s here, why don’t you call the manager now and request it?".

"I’ve lived here 14 years, have been through the ringer with management and maintenance. The maintenance guys we have now are good, they know me, like me, and I have no problem with them. But the way things work around here are strange. I’ve accepted that, but have learned how to protect my peace from the strangeness. So, for now, I’m accustomed to cleaning the rust, won’t be calling the manager or putting in a workorder. I’m at the stage where if they don’t care, I don’t care."

She said, "I understand because I had problems with the manager over where I lived for 34 years. He had a problem with cats, had trapped two cats for three days, so I reported him to the ASPCA. After that he kept finding issues with me, tried to get me evicted. So, I understand."

She walked away with a look on her face that read she was stunned/couldn’t believe that, since maintenance was here, the equipment was here, why he couldn’t do my unit; and I hope she told him what I'd said, that "If they don't care, I don't care".

Wait until she finds out she’ll have to pay for overhead lighting, garbage disposals, and whatever else maintenance issues management decides to bill residents for.

Plus, because she didn’t put in a workorder, but got one of the guys to come to her unit, handle the A/C condenser pipe, the entire complex will probably get notices to our doors to "Not bother the Maintenance Workers when they are out and about".

Other than that, it’s all peaches and crème around here. We even, at long last, have a management-sponsored event coming up — "Resident’s End of Summer Event, join us by the pool for food, games and prizes, 11am – 3pm, Tuesday, August 25, wear your best tropical attire".

In other news, I received bad news from the seller of the Boot Urn. Emailing my height and weight, asking if ashes would fit, he or she replied, the boot holds "130 cubic inches which is approx 130lbs precremation".

I am considerably over 130 pounds, so bummer with my plan to go in style.

Knock Knock Knock

Little Knock Knock was to have returned home day before yesterday/Monday but, when I walked into Arts and Crafts yesterday, there she was … decorating a jar.

She said she’d be leaving later that day, wanted to take a picture with me but wanted to wait until later, when Grandma Talker returns, have her take the pic.

So, when I returned to my unit, I didn’t immediately take off the bra, slip into comfortable clothing, but remained make-up on and ready for her knock on the door to go outside, take the pic.

That knock never came, so I guess Grandma Talker returned late, didn’t want to bother me, Knock Knock returned to her parents pictureless.

So, imagine my surprise, when a little after noon today, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Though my face was together/makeup on, I’d not yet slipped out of my comfortable Bob Marley Sarong into daywear, was going to have to tell Knock Knock to wait until I got dressed.

Opening the door, sarong pulled tightly to not expose too much flesh, it wasn’t Knock Knock, it was my new neighbor, the White-Haired Neighbor (WHN).

She looked flustered, said no one was in the office, and she was having a problem with a leak in the bathroom from a pipe in the ceiling, hanging over back of the tub.

"I've been told it's supposed to leak as it's where the condensation from the A/C flows" said I, but that, over time, it creates a rust color along the walls and tub that I clear up with Zep Acidic Cleaner.

The A/C condenser pipe is probably not over the tub in other complexes and homes, but we're special here … different, like in having to pay for repairs.

She said okay, she wouldn’t worry about it, but that the heat was getting to her. That even with the A/C running and the blackout curtains she installed to keep the sun out, it was 88 degrees and intolerable in her unit. That sometimes the weather outside her unit is cooler than inside.

That’s true. I’ve experienced it myself when I step outside and find, hot as it is, it’s not as hot as inside my unit and can’t figure where the extra degrees are coming from. I’ve actually sometimes thought I’m not alone in this unit, that there are other invisible beings living here with me, their energy heating up the place. However, the fact that WHN is experiencing the same phenomena means either we both have invisible beings or it’s just a fluke that heat is rising from whatever is going on downstairs, giving us those extra degrees.

So, anyway, the weird thing about WHN knocking on my door this morning to vent is that, since she moved in, I've been having this recurring sense that she won’t be living her long, would end up moving.

She didn’t say she was already thinking about moving, possibly somewhere to a downstairs unit where it's cooler, just that she can't take the heat, has been spending most of her time at her son’s place; that where she was living previously for 34 years, never got this hot.

"Why, after 34 years, did you move?" asked I.

"I couldn’t get along with the manager".

"Well, I’m sorry you’re having such a time adjusting to how hot our units get, but it’s not going to get any better. I’ve told others that this is the hottest Summer I’ve experienced here, that it gets hotter every Summer so, with global warming, it’s just not going to get any better".

Our conversation ended with her looking just as frazzled as when the conversation began.

I heard her door open shortly after, heard her leave. Probably headed to her son’s place to escape the uncomfortableness in her unit.

When Crafty Lady, on Tuesday, told me that yesterday’s Crafts would be decorating glass jars, I decided to join in, do something different that I’d seen on the internet where, instead of decorating the outside of the jar, as the others did, to mod podged fabric to the inside of the jar.

I bet none of you can figure out which creation is mine 🤣🤣.

Our 88-year-old arrived late, so I didn’t get a pic of her completed jar but, the way she’s attaching pearls to the outside, I can tell the finished jar is going to be a masterpiece.

I'm going to have to catch her out and about, ask if I can come to her unit, get a pic of the finished project for the Residents' FB page.

Knock Knock's finished jar came out equally masterpiece fabulous.

Wazzup?

Still not much going on, except this month’s bingo games have been cancelled, MAGA and Talker had another dust up, the Baker and Di also had a dust up. It went 2.0 …… got physical.

Snug as a bug in a rug under the A/C, working on scrapbooking, cleaning the spice rack of expired spices, reorganizing the kitchen cabinet, I’ve been getting news of the dustups second hand from the parties involved.

Talker tells me MAGA is still following her around, trying to engage/get close and, as usual, has been involving herself in things that are none of her business and aggravating others. Like when she wormed her way into one resident’s life, the resident let her guard down and expressed being depressed.

MAGA feigned worry about the woman’s mental health, called the police, who arrived to check on the woman.

She didn't appreciate it. Expressed to others that she felt betrayed/embarrassed. Withdrew even further because of it.

Then, when Patricia/one of our Usual Suspects passed away, MAGA got involved, feigned being closer to Patricia than Patricia would have allowed, inserted herself into the family’s business.

Another of our Usual Suspects/Louise was out-of-state visiting her daughter, fell, broke a hip and is now recuperating in an out-of-state rehab, staying in contact with Talker and the Baker.

MAGA is losing her mind running around trying to insert herself in Louise’s business, trying to get Louise’s telephone number.

Louise doesn’t like MAGA, would not appreciate a telephone call, we all know this. So, MAGA somehow found out Talker is the point-of-contact, asked Talker for Louise’s location and telephone number. When Talker said she couldn’t give Louise’s personal information to her, MAGA began badgering her for it. When Talker pushed back, MAGA accused Talker of being aggressive and words were exchanged.

Talker needs a restraining order but instead reported the following around, harassing to the office.

Not that anything will be done by management, but so there will be a record on file.

So now, word on the grapevine is to let our families know that if and when we pass away, be on guard for MAGA to try to get involved with our families.

I myself am drafting a text message to granddaughter and Twin 2 to not be fooled by, stay away from, do not be polite to, give no information to MAGA when my time comes.

Speaking of which, I’d previously mentioned Twin 2 gifted me with a cremation package. Since then, I’ve been thinking about wanting my ashes in a cowboy boot cremation urn.

Found it.

At $253.50, I haven’t ordered yet, but I will.

So, anyway, the Baker tells me her dustup with Di occurred when the organizers had gathered in the Community Room to plan bingo, learned the office will be closing early on the days planned for bingo, causing the Community Room to be locked up, decided to cancel August bingo.

At one point, the Baker was on the phone checking something to do with the results of doctor ordered lab work, the results being too high. Di walked into the room, began telling the girls about the woman she testified against being released from prison.

The girls keep doing what they were doing, the Baker on her phone, the others doing whatever, no one engaged.

Di became furious, yelled, "No one f__king cares about what’s happening to me"!

Now let me just say here that, if you haven’t already figured it out from previous postings about her, the Baker is the sweetest, kindest, most generous/patient human being ever …… darn near a Saint.

Di isn’t a bad person, she’s just a basic human …… complicated.

Baker said that when Di yelled no one f__king cares about what’s happening to me, "I lost it. Told Di that no one is paying attention because we’ve all heard a version of it over and over and over"; and, with one of her hands, she grabbed Di by the arm, grabbed her walker (a replacement walker???) with the other hand, escorted Di and the Walker to and outside the door.

"Well, damn", laughed I. "You got physical. Ushered her out the room".

Asking the Baker if she’s seen Di since, she said "She actually returned a few minutes later. Apologized for the outburst".

No one paid attention, no one engaged.

Who Knew?

It would be an understatement to say not a lot is going on around here, because absolutely nothing is happening as us residents just try to make it through the Summer heat.

Complicating our making it through are various outages — heat related I assume.

One day it was the cable that went out, then it was cable and internet together.

Fortunately, power was restored within an hour both times. Except for the day my A/C went out on a day when no staff was on premise. Both the office workers and maintenance guys were away for meetings with Corporate, and inside my unit hit 95 degrees.

Head Maintenance Guy was quick to respond to the work order first thing the very next day, and able to repair what went wrong within minutes. It was already 90 when he showed up at 8:30 that morning, said because everything in the unit was now hot — the walls, the rugs, said it would take time to cool down and suggested it would be economical and comfortable for me to set the A/C to automatically run all day every day to stay safe.

Not a problem, thought I, because it’s hot all day every day.

So now that I’m doing that, I’m getting messages from the utility company that I’m trending towards a high bill.

You don't say Sherlock, but what can I do but run the A/C and pay up, if I don’t want to pass out from heat stroke.

This is far and away the worst Summer I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.

Then the garbage disposal malfunctioned and water in the sink backed up.

Assistant Maintenance Guy was quick to respond, said that if the disposal had to be replaced, I would be charged for the new disposal.

WTF!!!

Am I leasing this unit or am I in a rent to own situation?

If these fools think I was going to pay to replace a garbage disposal, which research tells me is between $200 and $500, they were going to have a war on their hands.

I already defied them once — didn’t pay, when told to "Take a check down to the office when you get a chance" to pay $15 for the ceiling light because I thought it ridiculous to charge me for a high/dangerous fixture that falls under their purview and which, I later learned, is illegal for the landlord to charge tenants in the State of California. So, if I defied them for a mere $15, you can imagine what hell they were going to go through to get "between $200 and $500" out of me.

So, I was already planning for a war, as Assistant Maintenance Guy worked on the disposal, saying I’d have to pay if a new unit was required.

Fortunately for Management and myself, it was a simple blockage which I thought to be the result of a change in water pressure that I'd reported. Instead of water flowing from the faucet, water now more or less trickles, which I thought wasn’t enough flow to push through the pipes whatever was in the disposal.

What Assistant Maintenance Guy found in the blockage was tiny bits of kale, carrots and eggshells.

"Here’s your problem", said he. "You can’t put eggshells down the disposal".

I took issue with that, thought he was gaslighting me because I’ve done so all my life, and for the 14 years I’ve lived here. I chalked the blockage up to lack of water pressure and cheap ass equipment.

That is until I later googled, "can egg shells go in the garbage disposal" and learned "No, you should not put egg shells in your garbage disposal. They do not break down into safe mush; instead, they create a sand-like grit that settles in your pipes, and their sticky inner membranes can wrap around the disposal parts and catch other waste to cause bad clogs".

Who knew?

So now I no longer put eggshells in the disposal, but I still think it's the lack of water pressure as there was never a problem until the issue with flow appeared; and now not trusting the water pressure pushing whatever through the pipes, I build up the water pressure by letting the sink fill sufficiently with water, then run the disposal.

I don’t imagine anything will be done about the recent change in water pressure unless and until an outside Inspector flags it.

The heat keeping me out of circulation around here, I figured I’d pop into this morning’s Kesha Tuesday — which, per the calendar was Crafts, to demonstrate proof of life, that I’m still breathing.

Not much of a surprise that Crafts turned out to be Kesha bringing in a bunch of artificial flowers …… that’s it …… artificial flowers …… no plan, no tools to do anything with them, no vases, no paints, just artificial flowers.

Crafty Lady was disgusted, went to her unit, brought down wires and tools and cardboard, showed the ladies what to do with the artificial flowers …… they made centerpieces.

Di was in the room, delegated to a table off to herself.

The ladies do Di wrong …… kinda sorta turn their backs on her, push her out of the circle because they have no patience with her, are done with her trials and travails which they say are caused by herself.

To me, Di is like the little Peanuts character Pig-Pen. Not that she's dirty, but that she constantly attracts clouds of despair.

I sat with her, listened as she told me someone had stolen her walker from its perch under the stairs by her unit and how she’s fearful for her life because of being instrumental in sending two women to prison, back in the day, for unaliving an individual.

Both got life, but one is being released.

I’ve never understood that … how a person can be sentenced to life and be out in 25 years.

Di is worried because the one being released threatened, if ever released, to unalive her in retaliation for testifying.

She showed me the letter from Department of Corrections, asked my advice as to how it pertained to her — should she respond. I suggested yes …… fill in the Witness portion, mention the threat, mail it back because it might make a difference is keeping the person locked up.

Will she do so? My guess is no; but if anything happens to her, I’ll know where to point the finger.

So, anyway, I told Di "You’ve had an interesting life" and praised her for having the courage to do the right thing — testify, even though she’d been threatened not to, had even gotten beat up and hospitalized over plans to testify, but still did what was right.

"There are eight million stories in the naked city, this has been one of them."

Before and After

A few weeks ago, I gloated about Mother Nature finding her way through the plastic sheeting and rocks to sprout patches of green grass peeking out, saying there wasn’t a thing Management or the Landscapers could do about it.

Turns out, they didn’t have to do anything about it, because the sun and lack of water fried the patches of green to dust.

Before

Before

After

Heading out this afternoon, I was met with a lovely new view when I opened the door.

Before

After

When I blogged about my disappointment in Audrey the Venus Flytrap Sculpture being 25 inches, rather than 10 feet tall, commenter Linda in Kansas suggested, “Is there any way you can raise the skull planter up a bit which would help a lot?”

Good idea, thought I, worth a try, and my mind immediately went to the inexpensive and natural-looking way we used, back in the day, to prop items up, make plant stands ……… bricks.

Like this ………

Then, thinking about how much work would be involved in that endeavor, I quickly dropped the idea, began researching modern day plant stands.

Commenter JanF suggested, "dark and discrete which will fade into the background and thus not distract from the skull etc".

"Discrete …… fade into the background" doesn't exactly match my aesthetics of skeletons, voodoo dolls, braids, bright red lipstick that one can see me coming from a mile away, sporty way of dressing, not to mention the eye-catching bright red flamboyant patio furniture.

I went looking for "dark and scary", saw a few gothic plant stands — none that would add much height, switched to looking at tree stumps, and landed on this 18.9" natural wood hand-carved stump that looked gnarly enough and tall enough to get the job done.

Before

After

Looking at it from the outside, though Audrey doesn't stand out, appears to be a supporting character, at least the skeleton is now visible.

My new neighbor/White-Haired Lady, insofar as patio decor, is showing a maximalist side. Obviously won't be decorating for Halloween or Christmas because there's no extra space. I'm the minimalist ……… holding my space open for Holiday decor.

Oh, and P.S., I later repositioned the skeleton to be facing outwards, appearing to look at those on the walkway, rather than sideways.