Holiday Weekend

Except for the illegal fireworks, you’d never know this is a holiday weekend because, other than several U-Hauls bringing in new residents, there is absolutely no sign of life around here.

Vacancies created by a few deaths, transfers to medical rehab never to return, evictions because some seniors don’t like to follow the rules, a relocation to Arizona, a leaving to move in with relatives down the street, are bringing in new people at a rapid pace. Unlike the old days, when that mean Nurse Ratched was running the place, people were moving out and word on the street was don’t move here because of her and the complex looked like a ghost town, we now have a waiting list. People are lining up to move in.

From my needlepoint perch on the couch, I glanced out the patio window yesterday and spied a new couple …… with a pit bull.

That’s two pit bulls on the property.

Apache, our unofficial mayor, is going to lose his mind.

We had an incident a week or so ago, where a helicopter circled the area for almost an entire hour, yelling out something I couldn’t make out. I didn’t know if I was being instructed to evacuate the area or shelter in place, and I wondered if the chopper people know their equipment is sending out messages that are all static hiss cracking and they should be dropping flyers instead.

At any rate, I waited for the sound of sirens. Hearing none, I decided to shelter in place and wait the noisy chopper circling the area to go away.

Very next day, there was another helicopter. However, no message this time.

I later learned from younger sister, who lives on the opposite end of the complex and had a clear view of the mountain and the chopper, that the hubbub was about some homeless people trying to make a home on the mountain. She said the helicopter was telling them to leave or be arrested. I guess the choppers came back the next day to make sure they hadn’t returned. 

This issue with the homeless is so sad. I can’t imagine, but I can see why the authorities would not want an encampment on Little Mountain because of the likelihood of a fire being started.

All this to say that if the powers that be can send a chopper out two days in a row to chase people off the mountain, why don’t they send a chopper out to investigate the fireworks. It’s been nightly for two weeks, and the fireworks are not normal. They’re some kind of loud sonic boom. It was so loud last night, that I swear I felt the building shake.

I can’t wait for the Fourth to be over.

I’ve been doing a very daring thing lately …. wearing shorts instead of leggings.

“Daring” because I don’t know why. I just never felt comfortable exposing my legs in public. However, I saw a pair of bicycle shorts at Walmart last month that tickled my fancy and began wearing them indoors. Then, one day, in the midst of purging the unit of items I no longer needed, I didn’t bother to switch to leggings for a quick trip to the dumpster. Instead, I made a quick trip in the bicycle shorts.

Not quick enough because Nosey, the downstairs corner across the quad neighbor, ran to her patio, catching me as I was returning, whistled and said, “Hot mama. You have nice legs. You should wear shorts more often”.

The bicycle shorts are really comfortable, but I still can’t bring myself to wearing them while out and about, but I have been wearing them out and about on the complex – to the mail box, the laundry room, the scale in the Game Room, even wore them last Pizza Tuesday to the community room. Wearing them to the mailbox one day, a female resident did a double take and said the same thing Nosey said, “You have nice legs”.

They look like regular normal legs to me, but okay. I’ll take the compliments.

And in the Community Room that Tuesday, Church Lady and another resident whose name I don’t know made comments I didn’t clearly hear about me in shorts.

I see lots of others, male and female, wearing shorts around here, and no one thinks anything of it – except for the guy who is known as “The man with the pretty legs” because he’s always in tennis shorts, shaves his legs and they are pretty. I just don’t know why I myself feel so conspicuous and why others are commenting.

I am, however, beginning to feel more emboldened by the comments and, instead of switching to leggings when I make a run to the corner market today, for avocados to make a vinaigrette, I may go as I am … in shorts.

Getting daring and risqué in my old age.