10 Minutes I Can’t Get Back

The scrapbook project is coming together nicely and is on target for completion by Friday, but the smaller 8x5 album wasn’t cutting it without covers to protect the work, so I sacrificed a new 12x12 album I’d just purchased for which I have plenty of covers on hand.

What that all means is, if I were to factor in cost of supplies, this project is costing me big bucks.

Oh well, it is what it is.

The photos I’m working with only take up 16 pages in the 12x12, which is made to hold 44 or more pages of photos. So, the album is flat/thin, but again, it is what it is and anyway, size shouldn’t matter.

The only other two birthdays I acknowledge around here are that of The Baker herself and The Seer. I’d better check my calendar, so I can prepare in advance and don’t get caught at the last minute and have to do something extravagant – like now.

Yesterday’s basket weaving class Apache led me to believe was going to be authentic “weaving”, turned out to be a new resident – nowhere near being an American Indian, on summer break from her job as a Special Ed teacher, wanting to get rid of decorating supplies, allowing us to select a ready-made basket, and hot glue fake flowers, fake leaves, and other stuff in it at $10 a pop.

Though I was scammed into attending, I was a good sport, paid the $10, and put together an arrangement, which I have no use for and will probably toss out in today’s trash. In fact, when I went to exit the event, I purposely left my arrangement behind on a table. However, before I could make my escape, someone reminded me I’d left it. So, I had to look happy and relieved not to have left it behind and here it is not fitting into my aesthetics.

I threw it together in 10 minutes and was ready to head back to my unit. However, inasmuch as I’d been too busy to interact with the seniors for the last two weeks, I stuck around to take photos for the facebook page and catch up on the goings on.

Apache’s war with management over the pit bull has escalated. He’d been sending out certified letters to management here and at Corporate making demands for action. Corporate turned around and had the lawyers send Apache a cease and desist from “harassing” management, “harassing” corporate, “harassing” the owner of the pit bull. He’s been ordered not to talk to or send any further letters to any of the above.

Apache is a typical Trump supporter – stubborn, pig headed, can’t see the forest for the trees. Saying his contact at the county told him it’s his “right” to contact Corporate with his complaints, he intends not to let up until he gets his way.

Then Apache tells me his bank account has been hacked, resulting in his rent check bouncing.

I suggested, inasmuch as management has all our financial data in their filing cabinets and in their computers, that perhaps this is revenge – management sabotaging him in an effort to get him outta their face.

He thinks not, but again, he can’t see the forest for the trees while I see deep and far.

At any rate, here we are 19 days into the month and Apache is still waiting for the bank to cover his losses so his rent check can go through.

Photos taken, caught up in the goings on, I was back in my unit 58 minutes after the event started.

Though the event wasn’t my kinda thing, others in attendance seemed to enjoy putting together baskets.

This one was a masterpiece. The resident transformed this ...

Into this ....

Into this ...

Greedy Grabby did this one.

This was also hers.

And this one.

And this one.

Of course, her plan was, as usual, to take more than her share -- pay $10 for supplies for one basket, walk out with three more. However, the woman hosting the event, not even knowing this is Greedy Grabby's modus operandi, came over and advised she only paid $10 for one.

Greedy Grabby wasn’t wanting to pay for the others, so she left with only the one paid for.