Happy Saint Patrick’s Day

Since the recent DNA test shows 9% Scandinavian, instead of the Irish I’d been led to believe, I’m not as excited about this day of green bagels and green beer as I've been in the past.

We’re having an ice cream sundae social this afternoon, which I should probably skip, but inasmuch as I’ve been eating healthy, yet having stomach troubles every single day this week anyway, I figure what the heck … a sundae can’t make it any worse than it already is.

At least I hope not.

I got a kick out of a little birdie saying I should attend yesterday’s meeting and report back because inquiring minds want to know.

I did attend and, planning to stay detached from the proceedings, not get involved in the fray, took a Woman’s Day crossword puzzle to work on if I found myself rising to the madness.

I did work the puzzle, it did distract, but the meeting was quite civilized. No one complained about the high cable bills. The Community Room television came up, the outcome being we will have service again soon.

The big deal tax credit inspection turned up areas of erosion caused by the heavy rains. Consequently, there is to be another big deal inspection next year to ensure repairs are made and no other issues have come up.

Another highlight is that something the seniors have been asking to have reinstated since Nurse Ratched took it away has finally been approved -- a Bazaar/Rummage Sale.

I don’t imagine it will be a huge moneymaker like in the past, when it was publicized in the newspaper and people came from all over. It will just be us, so not worth my trying to sell items I’ve recently set aside for donation.

The new Community Manager’s not lying to us, working with us rather than against us, as Nurse Ratched did in coming up with creative reasons why everything had to be “no”, is probably why the meeting was so copacetic.

So, if the meeting was so civilized, so copacetic, why was I distracting myself working on a crossword puzzle you ask? Well that’s because two of the seniors were annoying. The two just babbled on and on and on about things that did not matter, even complaining about things they didn’t realize had long since been resolved. So, to keep from becoming irked out of my detachment and screaming, I worked on the puzzle during those times they needlessly babbled on.

The two are known for putting on a performance, making their opinions heard about how things should be done, and you should see their body movements while doing so -- shoulders strutting, looking very pleased with themselves; but it’s all smoke and mirrors, just a whole lot of complaining just to be complaining.

For instance, it was particularly irksome when the two -- next door neighbor and the other woman, let’s call her Loud Mouth, began complaining about the lack of activities.

True, we do have few BUT next door neighbor rarely attends the few we do have and Loud Mouth never ever attends. So it bothered me those two, of all people, were the ones to complain so long and so loudly about the lack of activities.

To top it off, the Community Manager, and not for the first time, suggested we do not have to rely on the Activity Director, who spreads her time between seven other senior communities. That we can establish our own Activity Committee.

Loud Mouth was all for it, interjecting it’s what we originally had before Nurse Ratched brought Activity Directors on board, and that she (Loud Mouth) had been on the committee. Next Door Neighbor was also in agreement, as it’s something she’s been suggesting for a while.

Actually, the whole room became electric at the idea. BUT, when the Community Manager asked for volunteers, saying she would set up a date for them to have lunch with her and work out a plan, Loud Mouth and next door neighbor suddenly became silent.

It was very telling that all you heard was dead silence in the room which had been so electric with excitement second earlier.

People complaining just to be complaining, not wanting to get involved in resolution.

Speaking of volunteers, I sat with The Baker who said the woman who took my place at Pizza Tuesday was “not happy at having to do it”. That delivery didn’t happen until 11:00 and that everyone “just wooshed in”.

“Do you think she’ll do it again?” asked I.

“I don’t think so”.

Oh well.