Mushrooms!!

This month of Halloween is moving way too fast. Only three days before the big day and then a few day's grace period to put the decorations away to avoid getting a lease violation.

I didn’t put a lot out on display, so should be prompt and easy work.

Since there wasn't much Halloween decorating going on around here, I last week gave myself something to see by copying spooky nail art I saw online.

This week, I’m trying something less severe.

On Monday, there was a little tap tap tap on the door. It almost sounded like a cat scratching.

It was the now not so little Knock Knock paying me a visit, I guess she’s developed a more mature knock, LOL.

She tells me she’s going to be Ghostface for Halloween.

I generally keep up but had never heard of Ghostface, had to google it.

Seems "Ghostface" is the proper name for what I’ve always referred to as the "Scream Mask".

Ghostface doesn’t seem Knock Knock’s style. She’s usually more creative, like last year she did Wednesday Addams and, the year before, she did the Joker’s Girlfriend Harley Quinn.

What would have been fun would be to see Knock Knock cosplay as Megan, the doll that does a little wiggle dance just before she whacks bad people.

Out walking today, I saw mushrooms growing in the grassy knoll area.

Seeing mushrooms growing in a yard is supposedly a symbol of good luck …… "for the Olmec, Zapotec, Maya, and Aztec cultures, mushrooms, called Teonanácatl, were declared as sacred and described as God’s flesh."

It does strike me as odd that I’ve not seen those mushrooms before while out walking, and they look so picture perfect, as though deliberately placed there and couldn’t possibly have sprung up like that, looking so healthy and all, overnight …… unless by cosmic magic.

So, I’m going to accept them as a symbol of good luck, head out tomorrow for a lottery ticket.

I don’t imagine they’ll last long …… someone will harvest them for a meal, or the landscapers will mow over, but I’ll check on them tomorrow afternoon.

The New York Times is considering Twin 1 as an entry in a special category of Times' Person of the Year.

The reporter contacted me today to ask questions about Twin 1 …… just when I was beginning to feel myself returning to Center.

Telling her I am not yet in a place where I can accept my Baby Girl is no longer here …… talk about what kind of child/person she was, I asked that instead of interviewing me on the phone to email me her questions and I’ll see what I can do.

So, there’s that …… always something to remind me.

Same Thing

Out walking this afternoon, I ran into the Lady With the White Dog – building in front of the grassy knoll, upstairs unit, diagonal to my line of sight, and a close friend of my former Next Door Neighbor.

Asking how NDN was doing, she said she’s going to visit her this week, asked if I wanted to tag along.

She looked surprised when I declined, asked why.

"I’m just not a person who visits", said I. "NDN will tell you that herself, because I never visited with her when she was living next door".

She seemed a bit stunned … "You didn’t talk to her!?".

"We talked all the time. I just didn’t visit with her in her unit. That’s not who I am".

I’m not sure she understood, but she let it go saying, "I probably should stop visiting her myself, because I come back mad. She has it so good over there … the area, the grounds, her unit, the people are so friendly, and I just don’t understand why some people get all that she has and I don’t".

Now, it was my turn to be stunned.

"You get jealous?!" asked I.

"No. Not jealous. I just don’t understand why some people have that kind of luck and I don't".

Don't Understand/Jealousy …… Sounds like the same thing to me, but I didn’t say that. Instead, I said, "We’re not chopped liver over here. We don’t have it bad. Everyone has a fit, and I personally love it here …… It’s affordable, clean, no one bothers me, it’s near to everything I need. I’ve lived in worse. I’ve lived in better; but I’ve been content wherever I was because it’s in me to be".

She didn’t look convinced, but said, I guess you’re right. It’s better than being homeless”.

Fortunately, another neighbor walked up, giving me an opportunity to excuse myself from the conversation, continue on with my walk. However, the conversation stuck with me, as I found it so interesting to run into a person who actually coveted what someone else had in that manner …… got upset/"mad" because …… "Why can’t I be that lucky to have what she has".

The Universe gives us what we need.

Other than that, all’s quiet around here …… not a lot of Halloween decorations going up, which is bummer, nothing to see on my walks.

The Baker is doing well …… actually held Bingo for the seniors this past Friday, and the room was packed.

I know because I had to deliver flyers for November bingo games to the room.

I didn’t linger. I was just in, handed Baker the flyers, and was gone. But she texted me today to see if I felt better.

WHAT?!!

"How did you know I wasn’t feeling well?", I texted back.

"When you came in with the flyers, I could see in your eyes that you didn’t feel good and you didn’t stay. You didn’t walk around and talk to everybody" and that she thought it might have something to do with her husband’s Celebration of Life.

She’s partially correct, as that was how it started, and it’s pretty darn amazing that the Baker could see that just by looking in my eyes, put it together.

She’s deeper than I thought.

At any rate, I let her know "I’m just working myself through some emotional trauma" and no, I don’t want to talk about it, I’m better working through it on my own.

Friday is Management’s Halloween Party. I’m tempted not to go, but inasmuch as I’ve got a costume already thought out, think I’ll go just long enough to catch a few photos.

Book Review

The book written by the 19-year-old Great Granddaughter that I never knew I had – available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback, started off as a quick read.

I don’t think she knows what a Blog is, but it reads somewhat like one -- reporting that this happened on this day, that happened on that day.

The first half of the book is raw, the portrait of a dark era when she didn’t know who she was, had little control of self and "I felt like nobody understood me".

This era was a revelation to me as it disclosed a side of ghetto life I myself have never been exposed to, with words I’d never heard but understood to be urban language … like "dukes" meaning "adopted parents/family".

The next half of the book is more lighthearted … details how she searched, located, connected with her biological family and, once again, this era was a revelation to me as I read about things happening in our dysfunctional family that were never disclosed to me.

Not all that surprising, because Twin 1 and Twin 2 both have always been very guarded as to what I was allowed to know, did not want me to be upset or disappointed in them. Would tell the grands, "Don’t tell grandma"; and, when someone would slip and tell me something I wasn’t to know, it was always with, "Don’t tell I told you", LOL.

Life is about choices and, as difficult as it is at times to have to stand to the side and let people make choices that look to be leading to hard lessons, we have to accept it's how growth and waking up works.

I’m just glad I didn’t know about the things I’m reading about now, and not all that happy about knowing it now; but I was okay/handling it until the book got to Twin 1’s passing … the press, conspiracy theories surrounding how/why she passed, cyber bullying of family members, and then the funeral.

Having not yet made peace with the loss of Twin 1, having not allowed anyone to bring it up, having bypassed all news and videos relating to a funeral happening, treating it almost as though it hasn’t happen, this is where I broke.

I’ve had to put the book down. Don’t know when and if I’ll pick it up again; but, next time I see Great Granddaughter, I will have her sign it.

Looking at what Great Granddaughter is doing with her life now, how she's come through what she had to experience, seems to have had a decent adoptive family, has been taken into the fold by her biological family (with two abstaining), I’m just going to leave things as they are, stay in the moment.

I don't know if I can say this book is for everybody, as I think, just like a blog, Great Granddaughter has written it for herself with the hope it reaches her tribe -- "adoptees, foster children, people who have been separated from their families, and anyone who has ever questioned where they belong".

The Game's Afoot

Outside yesterday was perfect walking weather, so I went three times around the complex for a mile and a half in thirty-seven minutes.

Nowhere near fast enough for a 5K, but not bad for my age.

Looking for Halloween decorations, as I walked along, I saw my Little Hispanic Friend has her patio decorated.

Doesn’t look much like Halloween, to me -- more like Fall, but okay … it’s something to see.

Today was a little warm, but walkable. So, I suited up. However, because it was warm, I only managed a mile in thirty minutes and spotted this ……

Lovely. Definitely Halloween.

Earlier in the day, I’d received a message from the Talker, asking that I post to the Residents’ Facebook page, photos taken at today’s Crafts session.

WHAT????

I posted the photos, but did not express my surprise to Talker that Crafty Lady had hosted Crafts today, because Crafty Lady had told me Crafts was suspended for the remaining Wednesdays of this month due to doctor appointments.

If you will recall … Crafty Lady cancelled the previous two weeks of Crafts Wednesday -- the first time for heart palpitations, the second time for a swollen knee; and not only did she say the remaining Wednesdays of this month were doctor appointments, but that Crafts might be switched to another day in future …… she’d let me know.

She said all this in a text message so, if the sh!t later hits the fan, which it may very well do down the road, she cannot deny saying it or write it off as a miscommunication/misunderstanding, as I've got the receipt.

Now there are a few ways I can take what Crafty Lady did today. One, she is a simple flip flopper. Two, for some very very very misguided reason, maybe because of her Deputy Sheriff days of being a bully and Di no longer around to screw with, Crafty Lady is trying me.

I think it's the latter …… deliberately done.

In my mind’s eye, I can see a smug manipulative look on her face, as she waits for a text message from me asking why she didn’t tell me Crafts was on today and/or expecting me to chase her down about next Wednesday.

She’s not as important as she thinks she is …… at least not to me. So, I’m going to chill …… erase her.

I can and have done that before with people who needed erasing. It starts with, whenever the person touches my mind, I say, "Erase, erase, erase".

If you do that long enough/often enough, the person no longer comes to mind. You forget them, forget even their name.

In addition, as soon as I can figure out how to do it, I’m going to block her from my phone contacts.

I want to unfriend her on Facebook but, if I do that, she might lose access to the Residents’ Facebook page, not see the photos; so I’ll leave that alone and, instead … I forgot what you call it, but there’s a way to suspend her posts from appearing on my page.

People like Crafty Lady don’t like not being paid attention to … not chased. So, my guess is she’ll eventually try to contact me out of guilt, find herself blocked, panic and try not to exactly smooth things over about not letting me know about Crafts today, but pretend it didn’t happen, just go on as before.

There is and will be no before. She’s erased.

Inasmuch as she won't be able to contact me, I doubt she’ll see me until Management’s Halloween Party, where I fully intend to avoid/not see her, because she’s erased.

BTW, the photos Talker sent show the Baker attended Crafts. She’s brave/strong, handling the loss of her husband well …… at least in public.

Columbus Day ???

Would you believe that, the day of the Celebration of Life, it was 100◦ and that later that night it rained. It’s been raining every day since.

That’s not a complaint. We desperately needed the rain. It’s just that the switcheroo in weather was so extreme … from excessive heat to dark gloomy wet cold.

While at the Celebration, I learned we came thisclose to losing another member of the Usual Suspects.

While on a cruise that included 85 church members, she became deathly ill, unable to walk or breathe. Ended up hospitalized for 40 days, where it was determined she’d contracted a respiratory infection. They think it had something to do with the recycled water on the ship.

Saying, "I almost died" she added that while hospitalized, she’d been asked to step up on something, twisted her foot, broke her ankle.

That was some vacation, and out of the 85 on the cruise, only she and one other were impacted by whatever bacteria caused the infection.

She fortunately survived, is back now wearing a cast from the broken ankle; saying she feels okay, but I can hear a difference in the way she speaks … her voice has a raspy sound to it.

It wasn't long ago when, one other of our Usual Suspects left the complex to take a vacation, fell, broke her hip, ended up in rehab.

It's kinda spooky.

I forgot to ask if the other lady, that contracted the infection, had survived.

On the dysfunctional family front, the Great Granddaughter that, until last year I never knew I had, has written a book, available on Amazon in Kindle and Paperback, about growing up adopted.

"Everyone knows what it feels like to start somewhere you never expected to stay, to look at your circumstances and wonder, can something beautiful really come from this … when everything around you seems determined to keep you small. We call it struggle. But sometimes, struggle is where strength takes root".

"In From the Concrete, Alanah Jones explores the journey of becoming through seasons of uncertainty, growth, setbacks, and transformation. Like a seed forcing its way through concrete, this book speaks to the courage it takes to grow when the environment around you was never designed to make growth easy".

Recap

"I’ve been married for 52 years", said Hoochie Mama who was sitting next to me at today's Celebration of Life.

Hoochie Mama is the resident who moved in 2019 and quickly earned herself a reputation of being desperate because she’s so aggressively came onto the men, made a not PG-rated cupcake at a decorating event, couldn’t have a conversation without mentioning that three-letter word that starts with s and ends with x; and, more recently, came to an event as a moocher, tried to cut in line and, once in line, began grabbing chicken, eating it as she moved through the line grabbing at the other food.

Her behavior was disgusting, embarrassing and discussed at length by everyone who saw it, prompting me to provide the Baker with meal tickets for future events.

So, anyway … Impressed at 52 years, I said, "I don’t know how you guys can do that ─ Stick with one person year after year. I couldn’t stand being in a committed relationship for more than 6 months".

Then she held up 5 fingers, saying 52 years with 5 different husbands.

Laughing, I said, "It doesn’t work that way. You can't total them up". Whereupon she got a little miffed, said, "It does for me!".

Okay. Whatever. My instincts were right when I saw her walk through the door and heard myself say to myself, "OH NOOOOOO!".

Then, when her eyes landed on me, it was "NOOOOOOOO" again.

When she walked over, placed her hand on the back of the chair to my right, asked if it was okay to sit, I just kinda shrugged my shoulder while in my head I heard myself say, "It’s okay to sit anywhere but here".

She sat.

I was reluctantly polite when she engaged me in conversation, but I shut down after she got miffed over "It doesn’t work that way".

Fortunately, I saw Hell on Wheels (HOW) at the door. She was being escorted in by her daughter and her daughter’s drop-dead handsome hunk of burning love boyfriend, who had all of us ladies breaking our necks to get a good look at him.

They located HOW at the other end of the table where I was seated, to my left. So, I slid down to the seat nearest HOW, leaving two seats open between myself and Hoochie Mama.

Hoochie Mama noticed, seemed to know I wanted away from her, let out a little laugh about it.

I was really surprised to see HOW, especially since she was sitting upright in a wheelchair after being told she’d be bedridden for like the rest of her life.

She said she’d been through it but was "tough". Then she looked at me and said, "You’re tough too".

Interesting that, having not seen me in a couple years, while she was in care facilities, bedridden in her unit surrounded by nurses, and then in and out of the hospital, that she could look at me and see something that made her say that.

Anyway, Hoochie Mama was forgotten by me and HOW and I had a pleasant conversation about what’s been going on around the complex.

Just before the speeches began, and a slideshow was shown of the life of the Baker’s husband (They'd been married 40 years), HOW’s daughter and her drop-dead handsome hunk of burning love boyfriend sat in the two seat that were open between myself and Hoochie Mama, with the boyfriend, lucky for me … or so I thought, sitting right next to me.

He generated nothing, no heat, no aura. I felt no sense of anything. He felt empty and, when he spoke/commented on anything being said by speakers, his vocabulary seemed limited to "That’s awesome". He told a passing woman wearing Frankenstein earrings, "I like your earrings; they're awesome". Then, when clapping was done, he went overboard … big arms overhead, big hands coming together slow and loud.

I wrote him off as an empty vessel, a big dumb, clumsy oaf, delicious to look at but good for one thing.

I’ll leave it up to you readers to figure out what that one thing is.

Di was in the room.

I guess management lifted the ban, allowed her to enter the Community Room, attend the Celebration of Life.

At the end of the slideshow, it was announced the show would be on loop, everyone was invited to eat. So, once people started getting out of their seats, moving, lining up, I took it as my opportunity to do as Bob suggested, pull an Irish Exit and did.

The hardest part of the Celebration for me was when I first walked in, the Baker walked up to me, I hugged her and asked how she was doing. If she had fallen apart at that time, I would have done likewise; but she said she was "Okay, for now" and actually seemed to be.

In fact, during the entire Celebration of Life, the Baker seemed the one to handle it best, even said that the activities she spearheaded would continue.

Talker and Crafty Lady told her not to worry, that they had her back. That she should take it easy and they would continue the activities for her.

I know she can count on Talker. I’m not so sure about Crafty Lady as she’s prone to start/stop, have heart palpitations, a swollen knee.

Do I sound snarky … bitchy? Probably because, though I maintained during the Celebration of Life, I came home with a migraine and I don’t get migraines.

I don’t know if I picked up something from the big dumb oaf or Hoochie Mama.