The Starbucks Effect

It appears Corporate had advanced information about a Starbucks being built just steps from the property because, when I returned to the complex from yesterday’s workout, a notice had been posted to doors indicating an increase in rent.

Our rents haven’t increased in three years, so it’s a safe bet this increase is the result of The Starbucks Effect (Starbucks moves in, property values go up, building owners charge more).

It’s only an additional $49 per month which, after not having an increase in such a long time, is not going to kill anyone but, I’ll bet dollars to donuts this Starbucks Effect is going to cause increases to now be an annual thing.

With 178 apartment homes on the property, Corporate is going to gain big time without actually having to do any work or improvements on the property to justify the increase.

Looking at the paragraph that says “We hope you will continue to see the value of your apartment home and we look forward to your continued residency”, Corporate must be expecting some residents will not be happy with the increase and end up moving, because the increase is based solely on The Starbucks Effect, while management is failing to make improvements some have requested, i.e., new paint job, new carpet.

Corporate must also be thinking some residents will cause trouble by taking the issue to housing authorities, because of the wording in the paragraph which goes ... “Should you wish to discuss the rent increase or let us know of any concerns you may have, we urge you to reach out to us rather than the local City/County/State government agencies as they are not responsible for the rent increase”.

Interesting wording, is it not.

I’ve never in my life seen such words accompanying a rate increase.

At any rate, I’m good with the changes coming as a result of The Starbucks Effect, even if it means the owner of the property, where the Pain Cave is located, increases Trainer’s rent, which causes Trainer to eventually increase his rates. However, I will have an issue if the increases, here on the complex, come more frequently than annually ─  i.e., every six months as some properties have taken to doing.

On another note, there is an old guy living in that heretofore vacant lot.

He doesn’t have a tent, just lies in the field, on padding, with his belongings around him.

When I saw the area had been fenced in the other day, I thought old guy might be gone already. But, coming back from yesterday’s workout, I spotted him on the corner and realized the area where he lives is just outside the fenced in area.

He’s good for now, but eventually that area will also be taken up ─ maybe for parking.

Here Comes the Neighborhood

Heading out for Tuesday’s workout at the Pain Cave, I noticed the vacant lot on the corner had been fenced in.

There was construction going on.

I mentioned to Trainer that the lot had been sold only a few months ago, and work has already begun, whereas the lot directly across the street from the complex had been sold well over a year ago and nothing. In fact, the weeds on the lot have been allowed to grow so high that I wouldn’t be surprised if there was not a dead body in there.

Trainer is a young man with an old soul and a great sense of humor. He gets me, no judgments, so his reply was not shock, nor the "don’t say/think/feel things like that" I sometimes get from neighbors and family. Instead, it was “You’d smell it”.

LOL.

“It’s too far across the street for that”, said I. “Besides, we’ve had residents die in their units and no one has mentioned a smell, and sometimes the person has been dead for days”.

I went on to say the fact death sometimes goes unnoticed around here in the complex causes me to sometimes worry about how long it will be, should something happen, before anyone notices and calls for a welfare check.

“Monday, Tuesday, Thursday” said he. “If you don't show up and haven’t called to cancel or reschedule on a Monday, Tuesday or Thursday, I’ll know somethings wrong”.

ROFLMAO!

At least Trainer’s got my back.

So, anyway, there was a knock on the door as I was getting dressed for this morning’s workout.

It was Apache saying, “Guess what’s going in at the corner”.

Before I could guess, he blurted out “Starbucks!”

That’s huge news.

When the marijuana dispensary opened up a few doors down, the residents went crazy out of their minds ...“There goes the neighborhood”. 

None of the awful things residents thought the business would bring into the neighborhood happened, but no one was unhappy when the business was raided and shut down.

With Starbucks going in at the corner, I expect it’s going to be more like "Here comes the neighborhood".

Perhaps it will urge the corner market to up it’s game with fresh produce.

The market was open Memorial Day ... the day I was desperate for veggies. In fact, the place was packed, doing a brisk business ─ mostly at the deli.

I wish I could have done something as simple as deli potato salad and fried chicken. Instead, I browsed the veggies, passed on mushrooms, cauliflower, broccoli ─ pretty much the entire row until I came across nice looking carrots, zucchini, a couple sweet potatoes, ambrosia apples. I ended up going with those items and frozen cauliflower rice, frozen broccoli, to get me through until tomorrow, when I’ll be out of the area and can load up on veggies at the same market chain, but in a location where the customers are more highly valued.

National Day of Remembrance

Except for the office being closed and no mail delivery, there are no signs of today being Memorial Day, even though several vets live on the complex.

I haven't seen hide nor hair of any of the residents since Apache's birthday party, so no news as to whether that watch is burning his wrist. (Get it? Hot. LOL.)

With no activity slated for here at the complex, my schedule for today is Monday business as usual, starting with a workout in the Pain Cave.

At the completion of Thursday’s workout, I expected Trainer to say he’d be closing for the holiday and would have to reschedule.

He didn’t’ say that. So, as I was leaving, I said, “I’ll see you Monday, unless I hear otherwise”.

Can’t recall his exact reply, but it was a confirmation of our usual day and time.

Having run completely out of veggies yesterday, and Sunday’s heavy downpour preventing me from driving out-of-the area for supplies, looks like I’ll have to scrounge around in the corner market ─ which is still redlining us with that which is least fresh, for what veggies don’t look too gnarly on my way back from the Cave.

That is if the market isn't closed for the holiday.

If the market isn't open, then I guess it’s a repeat of yesterday’s whatever I can find around here ... eggs, avocados, grain free bagel, black beans.

I knew I was running out of veggies, but made the choice on Saturday ─ when we had a nice weather day, to head for the college campus to test out a pair of those new shoes and hunt Pokémon instead of laundry and marketing.

After all, thought I, I’d get to those chores tomorrow (Sunday). Then came Sunday's rain storm.

Oh well, at least Saturday’s walkabout was fruitful.

The weather was perfect and I practically had the whole campus to myself ─ except for the occasional graduating student being photographed in cap and gown.

Seeing those young people just starting out in life/in careers, I found myself feeling somewhat sorry for what they are about to face ... life in general: the grind of a 9 to 5, bosses ─ some good, some functionally insane, getting married ─ some couplings working out, some not, the kids, the dogs/cats, mortgage, successes, disappointments, failures, mistakes, the constant striving to have, to do, to become. Not all will make it through the trauma of living a life unscathed to reach the other side ... this level of peace, contentment, just being.

At any rate, the first pair of shoes recommended by sales kid are a dream to walk in.

Guess he did know what he was talking about. Consequently, I expect the second pair will also wear well (700 miles he said). And, by the way, the restricted caller finally gave up trying to get through and, in my mind's eye, I keep seeing that BWG. I just know it was he.

While on campus, I managed to fill my virtual backpack with Pokéballs and not only observed grads having photos taken but walked up on trees beautifully decorated as Salutes to the Troops.

Try Try Again

The athletic shoes I purchased, a few months ago from Macy’s, didn’t work out because, although the needed cushioning against impact was good, the way the shoes were built began causing my hips to rotate out of alignment.

Money down the drain – considerable monies down the drain because supposedly great athletic shoes don’t come cheap, and I’m not talking about fancy name brands. Just plain old everyday supportive athletic shoes.

More money down the drain when I ordered two more pair from a vendor I’d previously had good luck ordering shoes from. Only this time, the fit wasn’t good. One pair was too loose front to back, the second pair was too wide, looked like clown shoes.

At that point, I remembered hearing about a place that uses something called “a five-point inspection” to fit you to the right shoe. I did my due diligence research on yelp and made an appointment, even though the location was halfway around the world from here.

Of course, my appointment fell on yesterday, when it was drab dreary wet outside.

I came thisclose to cancelling, but wanting athletic shoes off my to-do list, I headed out and was lucky in that the drive up was manageable drops of rain. The heavy downpour did not start until I was on the return journey, close to the complex.

At any rate, upon arriving for the appointment, I immediately felt like I was in the wrong place.

No one working there appeared to be over the age of 21 and what can kids this young tell me about anything, thought I.

I started to turn around and head back to the complex. However, on the other hand, these kids probably do marathons and triathlons, so maybe they do know something.

My sales kid appeared to sound knowledgeable, talked a good game, the shoes I purchased (two pair) felt good in the store, but they always do feel good in store.

I won’t know if I got snookered hoodwinked bamboozled until the weather changes, and I can get out and test said shoes on concrete and asphalt.

So there’s that.

Another thing is, as I was walking to the door of the store, coming down the walkway, in my direction, was a big white guy (BWG) that didn’t look quite right. I got such a bad “danger danger will robinson” feel coming from him that I pulled from my pocket the pepper spray and got ready for any shenanigans he might bring my way before I could get in the door.

I got inside no problem, he walked on by.

A few minutes later, as I was browsing the store’s goods, waiting for my sales kid to get to me, I noticed BWG was in the store, appearing to also be browsing.

He looked very out of place, but took a number so, though my gut was telling me he was someone to beware of, I put my suspicions aside and pretty much forgot about him.

This morning, my phone rang from a “restricted” number and, just like that, BWG flashed through my mind and something told me it was he.

I get robocalls all the time, never answer the phone unless it’s a recognized number, but this is the first time I’ve ever received a call from a restricted number.

Where was BWG in the store when sales kid was ringing up my purchases, asked for my address and telephone number for the database, and I blurted my number out loud enough for anyone close by to hear.

Thus far, that restricted number has tried reaching me several more times. However, the last two came up as “blocked” because, after the second try, unable to shake the feeling it's he, up to no good, I changed the settings to no calls from unrecognized numbers.

Make that the last three came up “blocked” because caller is still trying to get through.

I don't know what shows up at the other end. Maybe unrestricted doesn't realize he's blocked.

At any rate, thank goodness for technology. It's not like the old days when women had to change their telephone number and go unlisted in the telephone book to stop unknown unwanted strange telephone calls.

Nothing on my calendar remainder of week, and expecting nothing but rain next few days, it’s reading, needlepoint, television and indoor biking for me.

And by the way, Head Maintenance Guy (HMG) showed up Tuesday afternoon with a battery for the smoke detector.

“I was hoping you’d forget”, said I.

“Why?”, said he.

“Because I’m tired of that thing going off when no one is around.”

Remembering Barbara’s comment about a system that doesn’t require batteries, I asked HMG if he’d ever heard of such a system.

“Yes, but those have a 10-year battery”, said he.

“I’m 75, and will probably be dead in ten years, so it would work for me”.

Sunday Funday Not

It was raining cats and dogs when the alarm got me out of bed 5 a.m. Sunday. Plan for the day was to take the place of Twin 2’s partner, who’d had to drop out of a 5K the two had scheduled.

Hoping the rain would run its course by the time I had to leave the complex, I went ahead with the regular preparations. Lo and behold, the deluge did slow down, then stop but, just as it was time to head for the door, it started up again.

That was it for me. I called Twin 2, said sorry to let her down ... she’ll be racing alone because walking in that kind of weather was not for me.

She herself was already on the road headed for the site, saying the weather didn’t deter her at all. I later learned it also didn’t deter a couple hundred others who showed up.

Oh well, that opportunity to get in some walking miles gone by, I spent the day on the couch, working on the new needlepoint project, watching the Endeavor marathon on PBS and, at times, slipping away into a nap.

It was a peaceful morning until the smoke detector in the front room began beeping that intermittent sound it makes, every few seconds, when the battery needs replacing.

OMG! thought I. First the rain putting a kink in my plans now this.

Why does the beeping always start after hours and weekends, when the office is closed, no staff around?

Last time it happened was when the on-call guy, who did not live on the property, didn’t want to return to the property, fix the problem. That time, the intermittent beeping was like water torture. I couldn’t take it all evening and overnight, so I went to a hotel.

This time I was determined not to let the beeping run me out of the unit but, after two hours, I was thinking hotel again, but first I took a stab at trying to disable the detector as I’d seen it done last time.

Couldn’t even get the top off, so I took a chance and left a message on the on-call line, hoping I’d get a better response this time.

Surprisingly, I did.

About an hour later.

I was lucky because Head Maintenance Guy (HMG), who does live on the property, had the on-call duty ─ rather than his assistant who does not live here, but it took him an hour because he was coming from church, not his unit.

HMG disabled the unit and said he’d bring a battery this morning (note to self for next time: open by twisting the thing and squeeze the clip to detach).

I’m so fed up with that detector in the front room screwing with me that I told him to take his time, that I’d like to see it disabled forever.

Evidently, he took me at my word because it’s almost quitting time and he hasn’t shown up with a battery.

Fine by me. I just better not be starting any fires by forgetting to turn a burner off with a cast iron skillet on top of the burner, as I’ve done twice in the past, setting off a real alert on the smoke detector.

There’s a backup detector in the bedroom that never gives me grief, so no worries about none in the front room. It will just take longer to get the alert if I have another senior moment.

Plausible Deniability

The weather was perfect for Apache’s BBQ Birthday Celebration this afternoon.

About 30 residents showed up and feasted on BBQ ─ hotdogs, ribs, corn on the cob, macaroni salad, potato salad, baked beans and, of course, cake.

Apache was thrilled with the gift from No. 45’s store.

Expecting the underside to say “made in China”, I looked everywhere but could find nothing that indicated where the item was made. The only markings were No. 45’s ─ on the box, on the item, on the tissue paper, which I suggested Apache use for toilet paper. LOL.

The lack of “made in” markings tells me No. 45 is, as usual, hiding something.

Not only that, but the photo in the advertisement is misleading.

It appears as though I was purchasing a bank designed as stacks of gold bars.

Wrong! ... or should I say fake advertising, because the photo in the advertisement is a bunch of individual banks stacked together, whereas there’s only one in the box.

Advertised

Received

No matter. It was still a cool gift.

The party was so fun that, instead of hanging around just long enough to take a few photos for the facebook page, I actually stayed and socialized. Even the Seer and her Shadow showed up.

That was a surprise because they’ve been so standoffish with all of us since hooking up, and specifically made a point of expressing they no longer wanted anything to do with Apache, but here they were at his birthday party.

It was rather weird. Especially since they offered no greeting to anyone when they came into the Room, just walked up to the counter, made plates, went outside and sat at one of the patio tables ─ just the two of them.

At one point, Apache asked me to come outside with him, that Shadow and Seer wanted to give him something and he wanted a picture (He was having me take photos of all his gifts as given).

“Are you friends again?” asked I, but he didn’t hear me so I just followed him outside.

He sits down at the patio table with them, I remain standing, waiting, camera ready.

The Seer and Shadow seem uncomfortable with my being there and say nothing.

“He said you have something for him and he wants me to take a picture”, said I.

Seer says, “Yes, we have something for you. That is if you want it”.

What? thought I.

“Something for you if you want it”.

That’s the strangest offering of a gift I’ve ever heard.

At any rate, Seer pulls from her lap a very nice-looking watch.

No box.

No wrapping paper.

Something was not right.

No wonder they were uncomfortable with me being there to witness what was happening.

Neither Seer nor Shadow are the warm generous type.

Neither can afford to be buying nice watches, especially for someone they’ve been professing to no longer like.

I take the photo and make a speedy retreat back to the party and say nothing to anyone so I can claim plausible deniability should the fertilizer hit the fan at a later date.

If I were in Apache’s shoes, I’d have said “Thanks, but no thanks”.

It would have angered them, but the two of them have become such a grumpy resentful hateful pair anyway, so better safe to say no, than sorry and get in trouble for accepting what feels like ill-gotten property.

For Apache’s sake, I hope there’s no tracking device on the watch.

On tap for tomorrow is another early rising to head out for a 5K. Rain is expected. Hopefully it won’t start until after I’ve crossed the finish line.

Business as Usual

It’s been business as usual here on the senior complex and in my part of the world.

Sunday was as I’d expected, no call or text from Twin 1. However, she did somewhat acknowledge Mother’s Day by proxy in a text I received from granddaughter.

I had to laugh.

It’s better than nothing.

The seniors celebrated Mother’s Day with a potluck yesterday, rescheduled from last week.

I did see, when last I walked through the Community Room, that 20 or so residents signed up for the event, so there was interest. Which means the rescheduling was most definitely budget related ─ that the new Community Manager had failed to provide Activity Director with needed funds; but I can’t tell you how the event went because I didn’t make it back from Trainer in time to do a walk through and take photos for the residents’ facebook page.

Apache’s birthday was Monday, so I caught up with and gave him the gift box from No. 45’s store.

His eyes lit up, but he doesn’t want to open the box until Saturday, at the BBQ celebration of his birthday.

I wasn’t planning to go to that. It’s just no fun going to food events when I can’t eat any of the goodies, but I guess I’ll have to go to take photos of Apache's face, when he opens the box, for his private facebook page and so I can see if the underside of the gold bar bank says “Made in China”.

Elsewhere on the complex, word is Nosey ─ hospitalized/recovering from a fall in her unit resulting in a broken hip, was doing well and would be returning some time next week.

Picking up mail on Monday, I ran into one of our Community Room regulars who informed me that she was just home from the hospital where she’d had surgery on her knee.

News to me. I’d not heard, but then I’ve not been around much lately to hear what’s going on.

At any rate, she tells me she’s had her knee operated on THEN without any prompting on my part, she showed me the surgical scars.

OMG!!!!

WHY DO OLD PEOPLE DO THAT?!!!! .. MAKE SUCH A BIG PRODUCTION … BRAG EVEN.

It was bad enough she was wearing shorts to openly display the scars, but inasmuch as I did not appear all that interested in details, she just had to push it by sticking out her leg saying “See”.

Hopefully she read my facial expression (like I was about to toss my cookies) and will be more discerning about the show and tell stuff.

With the dentist off my to-do list, a measles booster off the list, this morning it was a drive to the eye clinic for a long overdue exam and new glasses.

That’s the vision center at my medical provider’s office, not the private vision center I went to after the provider’s office royally screwed up last time I went through the process.

I went back and forth in my mind as to whether I should go to the provider this time, in the hopes they’d do a better job, because everything is covered except purchase of the glasses, rather than to the private vision center that did such great work but cost and arm and two legs.

I decided medical provider’s office.

But upon arriving in a timely manner for this morning’s appointment, I was told my appointment is not until next week. Of course they're right. I'd misplaced the appointment card, but had written the date and time in my organizer, yet and still showed up a week early.

I took this not as yet another senior moment, but a sign from the universe to not waste my time. As soon as I arrived back at the complex, I cancelled next week’s appointment with the provider and scheduled end-of-month with the private center.

Since I was at the medical center, I stopped into the Nurse’s Station for a Blood Pressure Check. It was o-k-a-y and, as I was leaving, the nurse was still looking at whatever it is they see on the computer screen and suddenly blurted out “OH MY GOD!!”.

I stopped cold in my tracks, frightened, thinking she’d discovered a problem.

“You look nowhere near this age”, said she.

Relieved and laughing, I said, “You scared me and thank you”.

Not thank you for scaring me, but thank you because it’s always good to hear I don’t look it.

There's no magic formula to my not looking my age. It's all the Grace of God, expensive makeup and an aging picture I have hidden away in the attic.

Community Run

Set the alarm for 4 a.m. this Saturday morning, but awoke at 3:01, ready to get myself washed, dressed, fed, and out the door at 5:30 to drive to the 8th Annual Jurupa Valley Community Run, the first 5K I’ve participated in this year, and the first time I've heard of this event.

Not that I haven’t wanted to get back into the swing of things (participate in other 5Ks this year) but because it’s the first one to come to my attention that didn’t involve an overnight hotel stay. Jurupa Valley is a drivable distance from the complex.

Mother’s Day being tomorrow, you’d think this event would be so themed. But no. Instead, the race organizers requested participants dress patriotically ─ “This year we are hosting a Patriotic Run ... join us in wearing Red, White, or Blue on Race Day”.

So, they kinda sorta skipped celebrating moms and went straight to Memorial Day, but okay.

I pulled from storage the patriotic leggings I made s few years back for a 4th of July 5K in Long Beach.

Twin 2 was going to wear the patriotic tutu I'd put together some years back but, at the last minute, lucked up on cute patriotic leggings 50% off at J.C. Penney.

Last time I did a 5K with Twin 2 (November 2017), I had to hustle to keep up with her. This time it was “Ma! You walk really fast”. She had to hustle to keep up with me.

I’d planned to run part of the race but, when my knees realized what my head was planning, they started acting up. So, I decided not to risk an injury and just fast walked at a nice clip.

The Pain Cave training paid off. My official finish time improved from 1:04:20 to 00:56:43, placing me at 179 out of 193, second in my age group ─ but hold the applause please, there were only three of us over 70 years of age, so I finished middle of the old folks pack, but passed fourteen in other age groups … younger.

After the 5K, I was treated to a much needed Mother’s Day mani/pedi.

Twin 1 opted to celebrate Mother’s Day weekend distributing food and roses to the homeless women of skid row/Los Angeles this morning.

If I hear from her tomorrow, whether a telephone call or a text message, it will be a miracle.

Last time I received a Mother’s Day acknowledgment from Twin 1 was some 10/12 years ago, when she invited me to drive down to Long Beach, spend the day with her, go to dinner, and she stiffed me with the bill. 

Instead of she taking me to dinner, I ended up taking her.

So, I will be stunned to get any sort of acknowledgment from Twin 1 this weekend, because that’s just the way she is. Everything is about her ─ it was so in the past and, even though she extends herself in serving the homeless, everything still is about her.

Twin 1’s service to others is a subconscious clearing of her Akashic record ─ atonement for past events, and I applaud her for that. However, what she does for others also fills the need she has for love, attention, approval ─ love, attention, approval she recently indicated I don’t give her enough of.

I ask you ... do they ever grow up?

So, anyway, today was my Mother's Day. Tomorrow I sleep late.

Happy Mother's Day! … tomorrow. 

Thanks Debra!!

So much cuteness was in today’s mailbox coming from Debra’s tinfoil hat contest.

As “Queen of the Nile”, I received not one prize, not two, but THREE!

Decorative Tea Towel

Notepad

Healing Stone

The healing stone is an especially cool prize. Going to come in handy around here, and not just for me.

Not so much appreciated in today’s mail was this box from the Orange Traitor's store.

I’m glad it came in a nondescript box. I’d have been embarrassed to have the mail carrier put this in my mailbox and think of me as a fan.

In case you haven’t noticed, I’m definitely not a fan.

And I'm certainly not the "enthusiast" the note in the envelope assumed by the purchase.

But the signatures are interesting. I’m no analyst, but it seems obvious that one signature reflects an individual with an overblown ego, the other looks like a little boy trying to be a big man.

Thing about this ending up in my mailbox is, I’d recently posted that my buddy Apache is planning a party for his birthday, that I didn’t feel compelled to bring a gift this year, but he’s a huge fan of the Orange Traitor (OT), so I’d look around and see if anything popped up.

Minutes after that post, a gold bank popped up when I googled OT gifts for men.

The bank was reasonably priced (cheap), but after the Orange Traitor’s store added shipping, handling, taxes, gift box, the price doubled.

Oh well.

It popped up so quickly after that post about a gift that I can only feel the Universe wants Apache to have it.

At least the gift box looks worth the additional price.

Rainy Days and Tuesdays

Opening up the patio sliding door to let in fresh air this morning, surprised was I to see rain.

The show must go on so, the plan to hurry back from this morning’s workout with Trainer, in order to take photos of today’s Mother’s Day potluck for the seniors’ facebook page, then drive out of the area to Sprouts and the craft store was streamlined to just the workout and photos.

Ready to head out the door to The Pain Cave, realizing I had 15 minutes to spare, something told me to head down to the Community Room, even though the event wasn’t scheduled to begin for another 45 minutes, just to see what was going on.

What was going on was nothing. Church Lady and the woman who has volunteered at the Veterans Hospital for over 40 years were the only ones in the room.

The volunteering woman is an interesting little lady. Her older brother is classified as a fallen hero of the Korean War. Which is why, I assume, she’s so involved in veteran affairs. I don’t know when her brother’s remains were found, but it was just last year that the remain were released by Korea’s POW/MIA Accountability Agency.

So, anyway, as I was saying, there was nothing being set up for a Mother’s Day potluck, only two residents in the room, and a sign indicating the potluck was cancelled.

I guess the show doesn’t always go on.

Church Lady tells me it’s rescheduled to the 14th because no one signed up.

That’s interesting, but I think Church Lady was just guessing, because it’s highly unusual and unlikely the seniors would turn down an event involving food.

Running into Activity Director herself, I was told it’s rescheduled because of the rain.

Not bloody likely. I’ve seen the seniors heading to food events during flash floods.

Running into my buddy Apache, after returning from the Pain Cave, he tells me it’s because the office did not release funds to Activity Director to purchase what she needed for the event.

That makes sense, and is probably because the new Community Manager didn’t understand the process in time for Activity Director to get things together.

I guess it’s taking new manager some time to understand more than the event budget process, because we didn’t get a monthly calendar posted to our doors until this morning.

Will be interesting to see how things go on the 14th, two days after Mother’s Day.

So, with this morning’s workout off my plate and rained into sticking close to home base, it’s catching up on recorded TV programs and reading for me.

Though I finished the 13-month long needlepoint project yesterday, I can’t start on the new project until I hit the craft store and pick up a few things. Aida cloth and floss came with the pattern, but I’d rather pick out my own floss so as not to run the risk of coming short towards end of the project, and a larger piece of cloth than provided, to give extra space to work with when I get to the edges.

And speaking of that over 3284 hours long project ...…

Finished Canvas

Lucked up on most perfect trim

Decorative Pillow Front

Decorative Pillow Back

Side View

Done and Doing

I took the scenic route to my second, and hopefully last date (except for a basic cleaning), with dentist McDreamy yesterday.

Passing the famous McDonald’s Museum, I spied something different under the golden arches.

I must have travelled through this area hundreds of times, marveled at the sight, parked to collect Pokéballs and never noticed Hamburglar before ─ and actually, McDonald’s is not a Pokéstop, the next-door Military Museum is, but the two are so close together that they act as one. 

At any rate, thinking Hamburglar was a new addition I pulled over, snapped a few photos and got back on my way.

Once I returned to the complex, I looked at old photos I’d taken of the museum and Hamburglar was there all along.

Funny that I never noticed before.

Pulling up to McDreamy’s office, I saw the abortion protestors were again out in front of Planned Parenthood. 

I guess it’s an every Friday thing.

Knowing I’d be passing either a Goodwill or Salvation Army Store, on the way back to the complex, I’d put a toaster in the car to be donated.

I’ve used it so seldom that I didn’t even realize I had a toaster until, opening the cupboard a few days ago, it too all of a sudden registered, like the Hamburglar. So that’s a crockpot, Oster steamer, wok and toaster recently donated, with another smaller crockpot I didn’t know I had, still in the box, to go.

I imagine I’d purchased the smaller with the idea of cooking oatmeal when I travelled to hotels for meditation retreats or a 5K but, inasmuch as oatmeal is a grain and grains are now on my do-not-eat list, it’s time to put it in the trunk of the car for the next time I pass a donation center.

It occurs to me that all one needs these days, to set up a household or to travel, is a coffee maker and an instant pot.

Pain Cave workout done and over early this morning, on tap for remainder of the day, after I step away from the laptop, is cleaning, dusting, reorganize the bedroom closet. Tomorrow it’s shampoo the carpet and, while the carpet is drying, set up the sewing machine and get to work on turning the needlework project, I finally finished last night, into a decorative pillow.

As I type this, Clint Eastwood’s Magnum Force is on television ─ that’s the one about the cops involved in killing criminals the courts went soft on (vigilante killings), one of my favorite Eastwood movies. But whatever happened to that guy? I know he recently made a movie that bombed at the box office, maybe two that bombed, but the Eastwood I enjoyed bombed way back when he dissed Obama with that “empty chair” routine.

I guess he's satisfied now that the country is in turmoil, the chair filled with a fat ass.