The Cure For …

Though I did little more than the usual cook, clean, needlepoint, catch up on recorded television programs, the weekend flew by.

My adventure in cooking this time was organic Gluten Free Zero Carbs shirataki noodles.

I’d tried them seven or eight years ago, but abandoned that alternative to pasta because I didn’t like the taste and the texture was off-putting. Having since learned, the taste and texture is entirely different when prepared properly (drain in colander, rinse with cold water, add to boiling water, boil for approximately 1-2 minutes, remove and drain in colander), I thought to give them another go. In a veggie stir-fry, it was umm umm good. Next, I’ll try in a ground turkey bolognese.

I made contact with none of the residents this weekend, so the status of Jose the Dog’s mom is not yet known. I did, however, make it out of the unit, out of the complex, out of the area, but only because I was forced to do so to keep a standing Sunday appointment with the locktician (beautician who specializes in grooming Sisterlocks) in Rancho Cucamonga. Popping into Walmart on the way back, I thought to pick up nails to at long last hang those bedroom photos and put up my latest medal board.

Why tear up the wall with nails you ask, when hanging strips are an alternative and, upon moving out, there is a charge of $85 per hole?

Well, that’s because it gets hot up in here, the glue on the command strips melt/loosen over time and eventually I’ll hear a ripping sound, which tells me the strip has failed and whatever it is holding is falling or has fallen.

And that $85 per hole is not a typo, it’s not $8.50, it actually is a chargeback of $85 per 1x1 hole.

I imagine management will prorate for smaller holes, but I don’t know for sure.

Either way though, since I’m counting on living here for like forever, I’m going for it. If something unforeseen comes up and I do relocate, there’s always good old nail hole filler.

Back to Walmart … Once inside, I remembered a this I needed to restock up on, a that, picked up a new DVD and drove away with everything EXCEPT nails.

I hate when that happens.

The movie that called my name is A Cure for Wellness.

Billed as “a psychological thriller”, it sounds safe to offer up for Movie Night. However, I’ll have to watch it first to make sure it’s suspense rather than blood/gore, something that will give us all nightmares.

While standing in the home goods isle at Walmart, trying to decide which cutting board to select, to replace my old beat up board, a little lady pushed a cart in front of me and said, “This is the third time I’ve been down this isle”.

Thinking she might need help, I asked, “What are you looking for?”

“Nothing. I have no more husband, my children are grown so” and she shrugged her shoulders as if to indicate walking Walmart isles is what she now does with her time.

How sad is that?

She’s lonely.

Thinking out loud about how my cure for loneliness was to grab my six-month old twins and flee from my mentally, emotionally, physically abusive ex with the clothes we had on our backs, and how good it is to now have peace of mind, freedom of time and energy, I said, “Sometimes no husband is a good thing”.

Lonely as she seemed to be, she must have snapped out of it and flashed on a bad memory because, all of a sudden, she smiled, nodded in affirmation and said, “Sometimes”.

Today is not my day to pop into the Community Room but I’ll stop in for a bit to see if there’s news as to how Jose and his mom are doing.