Method to Their Madness

It been a quiet weekend, that is if you don’t count the hellish heat and fire trucks racing to the Cloud Fire, which is close to 100% contained.

Yesterday, I learned there was a method to management’s madness in removing our lush greenery, replacing with succulents and covering the ground with I don’t know what … but mulch maybe? 

It’s because of the drought here in California — drought tolerant plants, drought tolerant landscape.

Makes sense, and management could have lessened all the grumbling had they included that info in the notice alerting us landscapers would be redoing the place.

I also learned the woman who started the rock painting group is a resident by the name of Jan.

Jan said she was bored, needed something to do, began painting rocks, got Diane and a couple other ladies involved.

Jan is still at it, while the others have tapped out.

I also learned that, as I’d expected, management had a hissy fit with residents placing rocks all over the place.

Why I do not know, inasmuch as much of the drought tolerant landscaping consists of rocks.

Manager was so incensed that he contacted Jan, ordered her to “cease and desist”.

”Cease and desist” … lol … sounds like management had consulted with the attorneys.

At any rate, Jan did not cease, nor did she desist. Instead, she requested and got a one-on-one meeting with Manager, asked him why — inasmuch as the rocks weren’t bothering anyone, were not in anyone’s way.

Manager couldn’t come up with an answer as to why so, surprisingly, he “gave her permission” to continue.

So, as of now, we get to keep the pretty rocks.

Americana Style: Red, White, Blue

I’m not sure what this “focus” is supposed to mean.

Like focus on what … focus on who and why?

It must be an important message because, I’m finding other “focus” on the property, appearing to be made by different artists, but I don't get it.

Pop of Color

Opening up the blinds to sunshine yesterday, my eyes caught a pop of color in the drab landscape. It was in the area of walkway where painted rocks had been pilfered.

Later that morning, heading to the Pain Cave, I stopped to check the brightly colored item out and whatdoyaknow … it’s a brand new rock.

While I was photographing the rock, along comes Handsome Man wanting to know what I was doing.

He didn’t seem much interested in talking about the rocks, saying “Oh yea, I noticed some of those around”. Instead, he turned the conversation around to Apache, asking if I’d been in contact.

I had not.

Said he knew where Apache had moved to, he’d called him and the call did not go well — Apache yelled at him.

I can relate to that, because I myself have often wanted to yell at Handsome Man.

He’s rather pious, narrowminded, judgmental. So opinionated as to how others should live their lives. Thinks he’s smarter than he really is, so I myself try to keep our conversations in safe territory — no religion, politics, current events, even the fact I'd not had the Covid shots, when last he asked, had turned into a bone of contention. 

I guess he approves now that I've been vaccinated.

So, anyway, actually no topic is safe to discuss with Handsome Man. It’s best to just let Handsome Man hold the reigns and listen to him talk.

He probably opined what Apache should and should not have done to avoid being evicted and Apache, not having it, terminated the conversation by yelling.

Handsome Man says he’s tried calling Apache since, but Apache won’t take his calls.

Before our brief conversation was over, I was once again wanting to shake some sense into Handsome Man, but settled for saying, “I’m going to have to stop talking to you”.

This because I asked, “Are you coming to Movie Night next week?”

Seemed a safe enough topic.

Of course it was his usual, “I don’t know anything about it”. 

"It was on the Activity Calendar".

"You know I always toss that in the trash".

That's true. From past incidents, I am well aware he never reads the Calendar, and that's why he didn't know, why he never knows, and then complains later when he’s missed something.

I explained the upcoming Movie Night event to him, asked if he’d seen the movie “Get Out” and, of course, he had not. Had never heard of it.

Handsome Man is such a bore. Guess it's the result of his narrow view of the world and all of us in it, but his well-built aging gracefully body is a joy to see walking around the premises — gives me a pop of color, eye candy, so I tolerate him. LOL.

The conversation ended with me — a bit frustrated he'd yet again not read the Activity Calendar, and me once again acting as his verbal calendar, giving him a look and saying, “I’m going to have to stop talking to you until you start reading those calendars”.

As I turned and continued on to the car, I could hear him chuckling in the background. 

He enjoys it when I'm snippy with him.

Later that afternoon, from my perch on the couch, I observed the little old lady that pilfered the rocks from my quad, walking down the side path.

She stopped, bent over, picked up a rock from that area, stashed it in her bag.

I think I’d better give her a blog name. How about “The Collector”. LOL.

There's not just a new rock in my area, I've walked up on others that appear to be much improved over the ones I initially found. The work is sharp, clear, the new rocks even have a coating to protect from weather damage. We may have a new player on the field. Someone who has done this kind of work before.

Déjà Vu?

Commenter JanF mentioned that the painted rocks reminded her, when she first became a reader of this blog, that I was going around hanging Christmas ornaments in random places.

Like this one in a Walmart parking lot.

This one on a bush in the market parking lot.

And this one at an out-of-the area Shopping Plaza.

This idea of “Random Acts of Christmas Cheer” came from Kathy, over at Second Half of My Life.

The photos Kathy posted on her blog — of Christmas ornaments hanging in random places, made me smile so, deciding to make someone else smile, I’d joined in on her Cheer Project.

That was way back in December of 2015.

These painted rocks aren’t quite Déjà Vu — it’s not my random act of cheer, it’s someone else’s, but close enough.

This rock, located near one of the Laundry Rooms, has me stumped. 

Looking at it the way it was placed, it appears to be a face, but then there’s an odd protrusion on the right side.

Rotating the image in Photo, it appears to be a bottle.

Your guess is as good as mine, but the flesh tone does seem to lean towards a face.

Could be nothing behind the impetus of the next two but, because the theme seems to be behavior, I wonder if there's something going on in the quad where this artist lives.

And I'd be careful about promoting love between neighbors. One lovely lady moved out rather quickly, because her next door neighbor kept trying to "love" her. 

He kept trying to gift her, feed her, so kept trying to intrude on her life that she began hiding. Telling me she parked her car on the opposite side of the complex and snuck into her unit, so he'd not know she was home.

Finally, she solved the issue by moving out.

I occasionally still see him around, but he doesn't speak, is not at all friendly and looks angry.

Maybe he's upset the lovely lady escaped his grip. LOL.

About Those Painted Rocks

The painted rocks along my pathway didn’t last long. Some went missing yesterday, only a day after they were dropped off.

I don’t think it was management’s doing. More like the little old lady who daily walks her dog through my walkway.

I didn’t see her do it, but the rocks were there when I headed out to Sprouts; and, when I returned, saw her rounding the corner — coming out of the walkway in my area, and then noticed some of the rocks were gone, the Nancy Drew in me put two and two together and concluded that particular resident saw something pretty, something she wanted, and helped herself.

Sorry to see the rocks go so quickly, as I enjoyed looking at them, but I’m glad the little old lady got to them before management did.

I haven’t checked to see if rocks still remain in other areas, probably won’t, because — good on me, I was quick to head back down on Monday, walk the complex, take photos.

I didn’t walk the entire complex, only about a third of the property, because it was hot, I’d worked out that morning, run errands and had pretty much depleted what energy I’d been able to reload after Shot No. 2 depleted my system, crashed my energy hard drive.

While on that picture taking walk, I ran into the Baker.

Turns out she was the mysterious rock painter ... or at least one of them.

It was a group effort.

There was she, Diane — who is the resident that put her puppy to sleep because she could not afford the vet bill, and three other women I didn’t know by name.

They ladies just all got together, painted the rocks and set about dropping off in their respective areas.

The group will get a kick out of the Baker telling them someone was out and about taking photos.

I believe I know which lady painted this one, which was located at the edge of my pathway before being pirated away yesterday morning.

I don’t know her by name, but I’m familiar with her because she’s very into crafts and extremely religious.

This next one, I found across the grassy knoll.

Not a stretch to imagine the extremely religious lady did this one as well.

Several quads over, near the Baker’s unit, I located what I think is a puppy.

I’m guessing Diane did this one. Probably because she's feeling guilty about acquiring a puppy during Quarantine, and then wanting to be rid of it once Quarantine was over.

I firmly believe the huge vet bill just gave her the excuse she was looking for, because of something she said about how the puppy was injured.

At any rate, would be nice if I could get all the ladies together, take a photo for you. 

Maybe I’ll approach the Baker and ask if she’d like a photo of the rock painting group for herself which, surreptitiously, will give me a photo to post — maybe each holding one of their bright colorful creations. That is, if they can find any that haven’t already been pilfered. LOL.

While we’re on the subject of bright and colorful, when looking online for a new Pride #ally shirt, I landed on this …

How about that!

Nina West is the spokesperson for the Lane Bryant collection.

Would have loved to have supported her with a purchase, but everything was big and loose. I like my clothing form fitting, so the hunt goes on.

Painted Rocks

Trainer has me laughing at his idiosyncrasies. Not just that he keeps moving the treadmill around, which is still parked close to the exit door, but that — even though I’m vaxxed and it’s just the two of us in the studio, he’s asked me to continue wearing a mask.

”You can’t possibly be afraid of ME infecting YOU now that I’m vaxxed”, said I.

Nodding in the affirmative, that yes, he was still taking the precaution of requiring me to wear a mask, he said — as his reason for not taking chances on my vaccinated self, “I don’t trust Fauci”.

He doesn’t believe the vaccines work.

He was not joking.

He was serious.

I found that hilarious.

I’ve no problem with honoring his request but, not because I'm protecting HIM, but because I'm protecting ME.

Trainer has not been vaccinated, does not plan on being vaccinated, does not plan to have his wife and two boys vaccinated because, as stated, he does not trust anything Fauci says.

Just like with the neighbor that is saying no to vaccination, I don't judge Trainer for saying no.

I can’t blame him for not wanting it, and I can’t recommend it — because the vaccine is like a box of chocolate ... you never know what you're gonna get. Will you be lucky and experience no side effects or will you be unlucky and get your arse handed to you, but Trainer's reason of not trusting Fauci is hilarious.

Of course, if I become the lucky winner of the $1.5 Million Vaccine Lottery, I’d be happy to spread the word — take the shots, they’re worth it. LOL.

Returning to the complex yesterday, I spotted something bright and pretty in management’s ugly new drab landscaping. It was a painted rock.

Then I spotted another.

And another on down the line.

The rocks were not there when I headed for the Pain Cave — I would have noticed. Some mysterious someone dropped them off in the time it took for me to work out and run a quick errand.

Checking other paths, I see these brightly painted rocks, with uplifting messages, everywhere.

Someone went to a lot of trouble, did a lot of work. Too bad management, upon seeing them, will toss them in the trash and probably post a notice asking the “culprit” to stop brightening up the new drab landscape.

Management does not allow us to place anything outside our units beyond our patios — not a seed, not a plant, not a garden gnome.

Those, who have defied this rule, got a rude awakening when the rose bush they'd so carefully tended was chopped down, or the pretty figurines they'd placed in the dirt patch in front of their patio disappeared into the dumpster.

Management wants all the outside areas to look the same — which was, at one time, lush with greenery, but now is just drab.

I’m going to try to take as many photos as I can before management catches on and tosses the rocks in the trash.

I’ll include photos of my finds in future posts.

Right As Rain

I never could have imagined I’d be on my feet and working out in the Pain Cave this Monday morning. But there I was doing a full body back and bicep routine, 3.2 on the treadmill in-between sets. On little sleep I might add because, after no problem sleeping my life away all of last week, I was so excited about being able to work out again that I tossed, turned, had insomnia last night.

Catching up on what's been happening around the complex, while I was in last week’s self-induced coma … the Monthly Calendar indicates that staff has reopened the office area, clubhouse, game room … but “with restrictions”.

But get this …. Instead of indicating on the calendar what these restrictions are, we’ve been instructed to “call office for more information”.

Won’t be playing that game.

Put the restrictions in print.

I also see there’s to be an activity — “Summer Movies in the Park” management calls it.

On Friday, June 18, on the Grassy Knoll next to my building, the movie “Get Out” is to begin at dusk.

That’s actually a good idea.

Get Out is a really interesting movie. So interesting that I myself have viewed it like a zillion times.

I find it hard to imagine there might be others around here who’ve not seen it but, whether they have or have not, desperate for a community activity, many might bring lawn chairs and show up for the viewing.

Again, though I can’t imagine anyone has not seen Get Out but, just in case you haven’t …… it’s a horror comedy that deals with racism.

Black people are abducted, and what was done to them is sort of like what Psychic Jeanne Dixon described as a Walk in situation  — one consciousness voluntarily walks out of a body, another consciousness walks in. Only, in Get Out, it's not voluntary. Instead, White people — in need of the Black person’s skill or physique,  walks in and takes over the Black body, after the Black person's conscious awareness of himself/herself is forced into a dark place in the background of the body. 

The pitfalls of being Black are not addressed in the movie, but I like to think the joke is on the Whites, seeking Black bodies .... giving up their White Privilege to live life in Black skin.

At any rate, it’s a fascinating movie — not horror bloody gore, except for one medical procedure I always turn away from.

I am not interested in hanging with the folks outside, when I can pop the CD into the laptop and watch Get Out any time I want, but I will head down to see the lawn setup.

Are they going to screen it on the exterior of one of the buildings?

Are they going to set up some kind of viewing screen?

Or is it something stupid, like setting up a TV on the lawn — expecting all those present to be able to see and hear?

I also want to head down, for a hot minute, to take roll call — see who, of the old group, are still around. Having not seen, for over a year, the man chasing Not Dead Nancy, or the married couple (married 35 years) who got into a physical fight with each other, I’ve been wondering what's happened to them.

If residents show up, I might also get an idea of whose been moving in, as there has been indication of two such recent move-ins.

None of the movement was in my quad.

Sue’s upstairs, across the quad, unit is still vacant.

Took the guys a long time to get it ready for a new tenant, because of so much work having to be done because of Sue’s smoking inside — plus, Sue had a dog.

No word yet on whether Bourgeois sealed the deal.

Bourgeois is the woman who complained about how unhappy she was while living here, couldn’t wait to get out, so to speak (LOL) but now wants to return — the only holdup being she’d have to pay $2500 to compensate for all the work it took to clear the place of her having smoked inside the unit she occupied before she was so happy to move out that last time.

Bourgeois is the second person I personally know of as having moved out and wanting to come back. The first being Veronica.

Bourgeois can lease a unit if she forks over the dough management wants, but management refused to lease again to Veronica, who then tried to skirt around management by making arrangements to move in with another resident.

I don’t know the specifics of why management didn’t want Veronica back, but Veronica pulled a fast one on those of us who were friends with her.

She knocked on my door one night asking to borrow $40. I gave it to her no hesitation, no question.

Two or three days later, when I ran into her, she couldn’t look me in the eyes and instead of greeting me said, “I’m gonna get your money back to you”.

$40 wasn’t going to break me and, to tell you the truth, I’d thought nothing more of it until she made that statement which, to me, was an indication the $40 was a gift, not a loan … and I was okay with that. I'd just never "loan" her money again.

After that, I didn’t see Veronica around at all. So I asked The Seer, “Is Veronica okay … I haven’t seen her around?” and was informed Veronica had moved …. to Texas or New Orleans, some place out-of-state I can’t recall.

I had to laugh at being taken-in so smoothly. I laughed even louder when I learned I wasn’t the only one she’d “borrowed” $40 from that night.

Would have been interesting to see how Veronica planned to face us all had she come back, but moving in with another resident never happened. In fact, the resident, who was going to allow Veronica to move in, was herself on management’s short list — for maintaining her unit in deplorable condition (she was a hoarder), and got herself evicted shortly after.

Play it straight, do the right thing — don’t smoke in a no smoking complex, don’t con your friends, and Karma might not have to teach you a lesson.

Oh, and btw. Just in case you missed it.

Down The Rabbit Hole

Moderna No. 2 started off easy peasy, but Day 2 hit like a ton of bricks, sent me down the rabbit hole — dizzy, chills, no energy, yada yada yada.

My body went into protective mode, shut down so it could heal — hibernation. I slept off/on all day remainder of the week.

With so much sleeping during the day, I feared I’d be up all night.

Not so.

I’d fall asleep, yet again, the moment my head hit the pillow and slept straight through to morning.

One thing I learned from the experience was that being indoors all day because I'm an introvert, or due to a Pandemic Quarantine, was very different from being indoors all day because I did not feel well.

During the pandemic, I could read, needlepoint, watch copious amounts of television, browse the internet. Whereas, while recovering from Shot No. 2, I could not hold a needle, a book, or stay awake long enough to boot up the laptop or watch television. Which is why I began to feel what many of those, who did not handle quarantine well, must have felt — restlessness, bouts of anger for not much reason in one moment, weeping spells for no reason in another moment.

Think back to teen angst, when the chemical imbalance in our body sent our emotions all over the map.

It was a really bad trip down the rabbit hole, and today is the first day I feel I’ve climbed far enough out to be able to function.

Running into the neighbor who lives downstairs, underneath next door neighbor’s unit, a few weeks ago, she indicated she’d not been vaccinated and had no plans to be.

I know how some of you feel about unvaccinated humans being a danger to us all. I don’t necessarily think that’s true, so long as they mask up and keep their distance, so I didn’t judge her for that, and still don’t.

I myself was late to jumping onboard and if I could go back and choose again, having experienced what I experienced, not yet 100% AND re-living the teen angst chemical imbalance thing, I’d opt to join neighbor in taking my chances on not.

Not yet back to needlepoint but, once again, enjoying copious amounts of television viewing as I lounge on the couch, I could have done without seeing Thing 45 on the news this morning asking, “Do you miss me yet?”.

A picture is worth a thousand words, so here’s my answer.

I can almost hear the voice of our recently departed blog friend, Anne Marie in Philly, in my head saying “JFC! JAIL THE SOB ALREADY!”