Kale for Breakfast

Running across a recipe for a breakfast dish of kale, egg, bacon — when I wasn’t even searching for such, but thinking it a great idea, I gave it a try this morning.

A                                   B

Delicious, satisfying, but which photo do you think is the one from the recipe, which breakfast salad is the one I made? 

Two more days before I’m Back in the Pain Cave — today and tomorrow, and I’m making the most of these days.

First errand of the day was to the mall, where I returned a pair of leggings that were not what I’d expected them to be, lucked up on a pair that suited me better — even though the last thing I need to add to my wardrobe are more leggings.

At any rate, pulling up to curbside parking, I gathered my quarters for the meter, walked up to the meter, but couldn’t find the coin slot. Took me a second to realize coins are out, credit cards are in.

I’ve never seen such a thing before. Have you?

I wasn’t about to risk my credit card, so I did a U-turn and parked in the free lot, in front of the Halloween store.

Walking past the Halloween store, I caught movement out the corner of my eye, looked over and ....

Scared the bejesus out of me, but honestly … if I lived in a house, I’d put it on the porch as a surprise for trick-or-treaters. Maybe put the candy in a bucket in front of creepy guy, to see who's brave enough to go for it.

The next window was a desk with books. Curious to know what ghosts and goblins read, I was trying to read the book titles when GASP!

Do you see it? (You may have to click twice to get the two above videos to play)

Moving on to take care of what I’d come to do — return an item, the young woman at the desk opened the packet, informed me I was at the wrong store.

Of course, the correct store was in a different mall, so off I drive a few miles to the indoor mall — where I made the return, saw the leggings that suited me better, bought those then, inasmuch as I was indoors, where it was cool, decided to test out my walking legs.

Discovered my waking legs are in poor shape.

Having not trained in over a year has had an impact.

After about a mile and a half, my knees began to hurt and my legs felt wobbly, which tells me it was probably a good idea that, over the weekend, I came to the conclusion the hotel stay in Redondo Beach, in order to participate in a 5K, was not a good idea. I cancelled the hotel, ate the 5K registration fee and opted not to register for the virtual.

When the weather cools down, I may have to risk the crazies and get back to walking the neighborhood, and the University grounds, to get my walking legs back.

If all goes as planned, tomorrow’s errand is the Jeep’s annual service — the third annual service since purchasing in February of 2018, with only 12,000 miles to date — which breaks down to about 4,000 miles a year.

I need to get out more often, but don’t want to.

Also, over the weekend, I finally caught a glimpse of the new neighbor that moved across the quad into Sue’s old unit.

It’s been seventy-five days since she moved in, and though I never caught sight of her until Saturday, I figured we had something in common when I saw she’d decorated the ledge of her patio with two wooden Thai figurines similar to the two I inherited from the Pain Cave, when Trainer’s partner sold the business.

Similar to these two

It wasn’t a good idea to place those figurines on the ledge, because it was just a matter of time before the wind blew them off and away, not to mention we’re not allowed to place items on the ledge, but I figured she’d learn the hard way.

I didn’t get around to taking a photo of the figurines on the ledge, because I didn’t think it important at the time; but now, since the figurines disappeared shortly after management performed our annual inspection on Wednesday, I wish I had. The guys probably advised her against the placement.

At any rate, coming back from Sprouts on Saturday, I saw a resident I’d not seen before get out of a car with a little girl and a man. I assumed the man was the resident’s son, the child her granddaughter.

The woman gave me a shy waive, as though she knew me.

From her vantage view, she’s probably seen me coming/going while I’d not set sight on her.

I waived back and, when the trio began walking towards my walkway, I figured that was the illusive new neighbor.

By the time I’d grabbed my items from the car and headed up the walkway, the trio was up the stairs, going into Sue’s old unit.

Definitely the new neighbor.

Can’t wait to catch her outside, introduce myself, ask her about her figurines, show her a photo of mine.

So while the world is falling apart, chaos all around, with The End feeling Nearer every second, I’ve been fortunate to thus far be experiencing business as usual.

Family, Ugh!

No problem returning that cursed object — the vlogging kit. I just walked into the store yesterday, headed for the return counter and, with no line, which was unexpected because there usually is, I walked straight up to the counter said, “I do not like it” and that was that.

No questions asked.

Headed back to the complex, I passed the Cat House — and I don’t mean a cattery, where cats are housed, I mean the other kind of Cat House. The type of entertainment venue that Church Lady would be disapproving of.

As I was passing, I caught sight of wording on their sign that intrigued, so I turned around, drove through the parking lot, to get a photo.

Back in ’92, when folks were rioting because the thug cops who tried to beat Rodney King to death were acquitted of all charges, King came forward and uttered those iconic words, “Can’t we all just get along”.

The cat house bastardized those words into a sign that was quite clever.

Can’t We All Just Get ABong

Those of us who came through the hippie flower child era (not a participant on my part, just a witness, an observer) will instantly realize the cat house is not talking about “bong” as in a sound/a bell, but more in terms of slang language for a device connected to a particular herb.

Something special must have been going on at the cat house, because it was noon, on a weekday, and the parking lot was full.

When I pulled over to a side area to get that photo, I wasn’t able to get the clear photo I wanted, because a limo pulled up nose to nose to my little jeep, making me feel pressured to hurry up and get off the lot — which I did.

Since I was out and about, I would have liked to have run other errands but, inasmuch as this morning's workout is my last until Wednesday, I have plenty of days between then and now to take care of business and decided to only stop by the non-security guard market for a few supplies.

While there, I got into a hilarious conversation with the kid bagging groceries.

Complimenting me on my rainbow mask, he began telling me how the way it glistened and gleamed would ward vampires off.

Vampire Killing Mask

Playing along, I reminded him that vampires only come out at night and my mask is not glow in the dark.

"Yes, but you can shine a flashlight on it and the glow would spread out like sunlight and disintegrate them", said he.

Laughing out loud, I replied, "You’ve been watching waaaay too much sci-fi", whereupon the young man in line behind me started laughing so hard that the laugh caught in his throat and he began coughing.

Been there done that, but on him it was not good, because he was not wearing a mask and standing too close — something I was not even aware of until he began laughing/coughing or I’d have asked him to give me my six feet.

I did enjoy the banter with the bagger, but I have to remember, at all times, we’re in a pandemic, to remain focused on my surroundings, protect my space.

As for why no training until Wednesday, it’s because Trainer is taking Monday off to deal with further daughter drama. He wanted me to go beast mode again — Tuesday and Wednesday, but I told him that back-to-back workout days seem to aggravate the old rotator injury, too much stress on that shoulder.

Of course, he gave me grief at skipping a workout for fear of an injury. Saying, “Oh sure, but you don’t mind injuring yourself doing TikTok dances”.

I had to laugh because it’s true. The latest TikTok injury being my right hip, but nothing that a few days of Epsom salt in my bath water didn't handle.

At any rate, Trainer’s daughter, just like my middle grandson (and to some degree his brothers) are like the bane of existence that, for some cosmic reason, the Universe has seen fit to put one such bane in every family.

In commiserating with Trainer about the destruction his daughter is bringing to his life, using my own situation (past and present) as an example of how to survive, I told Trainer that sometimes you have to save yourself by letting go — which pretty much is what he’s going to have to end up doing with his daughter, close the book, let go and let God. She'll either sink or swim.

I don't know if I've already said, but after yet another try at a money grab, even though I'd blocked the boys on my phone, I had to rat the grandsons out to their mom.

That's right, I tattled.

I asked her to have a talk with them about how I live on a fixed income that has to last until my time here is done, and that if I squander my income away funding their lifestyles, when they are young, healthy, perfectly capable of working as many jobs as necessary to make ends meet, I very well may end up having to later supplement my income as an old lady working as a Walmart Greeter.

When I told Trainer this is how I resolved the issue just last week, Trainer looked thoughtful, nodded in the affirmative, as though he agreed with what I'd said, then offered, “You don’t HAVE to end up a Walmart greeter”.

"What do you mean?"

"You can be nice to that Security Guard. He has a job, a nice truck, and would work overtime if you asked him to".

ROFLMAO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Me and My Bright Ideas

Thinking of getting deeper into this TikTok thing, I purchased a vlogging kit.

With no idea as to what the content would be, I thought I’d first learn how to operate the equipment and wait for inspiration to strike.

Picked the kit up on Tuesday.

Unboxed it last night and immediately broke a nail trying to get the cellphone into the holder.

Then chipped two other nails putting the darn thing together.

Already not happy with the purchase, I began liking it even less when I realized the holder would only allow the phone to be used in a horizontal manner.

Having had just about enough, what tipped the scale to more than enough was when, in removing the cellphone from the holder, the phone slipped out, fell on my foot, hit a bone.

While icing the area to numb the pain, prevent swelling, I reboxed the kit with plans of returning to point of purchase this morning before anything else can go wrong.

My bright idea now is to spend less time on TikTok, get back to my needlepoint project where the worst that can happen is I drop a needle.

No harm there, unless I forget to pick the needle up and later step on it.

Other than that, not much going on around here except, from my perch on the couch, I have seen that fast walking maskless Covid recovered resident twice and, lo and behold, she was wearing a mask.

One day, heading to the Pain Cave, I saw her returning from the market, wearing a mask.

Someone must have told her she’s still contagious but, just in case I’m outside and she’s approaching unmasked, I always make sure to have those extra masks on my person.

In the midst of rising covid cases and the variant, in person 5Ks are making a comeback.

I received notification of three (Moreno Valley Roadrunners 5K, Run for the Ridge 5K in Riverside, LA King’s 5K in Redondo Beach), all on the same day — September 18.

Thinking perhaps September 18 was chosen because of some special meaning, I googled “Is September 18, 2021 a holiday” and discovered Aids and Aging Awareness Day — United States, Batman Day — United States, National Cheeseburger Day — United States, Batman Day — United Kingdom, Chile Independence Day, Octoberfest — Germany, Love and Friendship Day — Columbia.

None of those days, meaningful to others, appear to tie-in with 5Ks, so, I dunno why that particular day. At any rate, I was instantly sold on the King’s 5K because the path appears to be in, through and around a place called Riviera Village, which looks to have a multitude of sights and sounds to take my mind off possibly struggling because I’ve not trained since that encounter with knife guy caused me to feel it unsafe to go out walking.

Having now registered, booked a hotel, I’m having serious 2nd thoughts about the safety of being in a hotel and on the path surrounded by others — some masked, some maskless, some vaccinated, others not.

The more I think about it, much as I do NOT enjoy Virtuals, the plan now is to cancel the hotel, eat the registration fee, re-register as a Virtual participant and qualify at one of the malls.

On another note, if long time readers — who know I live in the Fire Zone, were wondering about the path of the SouthFire, now raging through Lytle Creek, it’s quite a ways away, no ash, no smoke but, ever cautious, I’m keeping my eye on how things are progressing just in case it jumps.

Revenge With a Side of Rocks

While in the Laundry Room on Saturday, talking to a resident I’ve never seen before — even though she tells me she’s lived here for three years, I asked if she’d gone to movie night.

Her response was to laugh — long and hard.

Once she stopped laughing, she said — with a smirk on her face, “No one did …. except my neighbor and his wife”.

From this resident’s obvious enjoyment of the Tyrant’s failure, I’m deducing that his carrying on with movie night, rather than telling the couple the event was cancelled due to lack of interest, has residents laughing behind his back. He’s become a joke.

When people in power lord it over others who, for one reason or another, feel they can’t speak up/fight back, those powerless ones find other less hazardous to themselves ways to exact revenge. Silence and non-participation is one such effective measure.

However, the Tyrant may have found a way to break down some of the wall that’s between himself and residents. The Baker tells me he’s bringing bingo back.

These old people love them some bingo. So, they will undoubtedly put aside their dislike and participate.

Even the Baker, who opted out of everything some time ago, long before the pandemic shut activities down, said she planned to participate.

And get this … not only is the Tyrant bringing bingo back, he’s planning on being the Caller.

I too enjoy bingo, but I’m not desperate enough to lock myself into the community room, with a group of residents when the pandemic is nowhere near over, plus have to look at the Tyrant’s deceitful face, listen to words coming out of his lying liar’s mouth.

Besides … doesn’t he have more important work to do?

I’ve not run into Jan — the painted rock maker, in some time; however, I have seen her latest work in and around my area, which consists of smooth oval rocks with bible verses.

I captured photos of three. 

Matthew 11:26

Joshua 1:9

Proverbs 14:30

You will note there is not the usual polish on my nails in those photos. I'm such a girlie girl that I  actually feel naked when not wearing polish but, in the process of giving my nails a breather, I didn’t want to take a chance on the rocks being taken as souvenirs before I got polish on and could get a photo fully dressed.

I'm impressed at how neatly Jan managed to script on these rocks.

At any rate, I didn’t have to worry about someone removing the rocks before I could polish my nails and take a proper photo, because I confiscated two of the three to add to my collection right after I captured those photos.

I'll have to let Jan know, so she'll know they're in appreciative hands, not tossed.

The two I confiscated go well with my nails — now freshly skittle polished, don’t you think?

Mystery Solved

That was the message I received on Ancestry, first of the month, from a match who contacted me four years ago asking, “How are we related?”

She showed up as a 1st-2nd Cousin 5% shared DNA, has been researching for ten years, and has made discoveries as far back as 1883 — who begat who, where this one and that one is buried.

I had no idea how we were related. Actually could have cared less, because the only reason I’m even on Ancestry was to put my DNA into the system so those sent out into the world at birth, through no fault of their own, can have a pathway to finding where they came from should they go seeking when they become of age.

Over the last four years, I’d occasionally hear from the match — who refers to herself as “Your DNA Cousin” and, for purposes of the blog, I’m calling her Genie — short for Genealogists, asking if I knew this person, that person, who my father was.

I didn’t recognize the names she offered up but, though I'd never met him, I did know my father’s name.

Long time readers might recall my having mentioned the first, last and only time I ever saw my dad was when he was in his coffin.

Mom had tricked me into travelling out of state to attend his funeral and, curious to see what the man looked like before they closed the coffin, I asked the half-sister I’d just discovered I had — who picked me up at the airport (one of his daughters by the woman he’d left my mom for when I was six months old) stop by the funeral home, so I could see his face.

So, yes, I did know his name, gave that information to Genie, also my half-sister’s name, and Genie ran with it.

I think that was about two years ago, that I gave her that info.

First of this month I get a message “DNA Connection Solved … your grandfather and my grandfather are brothers!”

Big Whoop, but if she’s happy and excited at the discovery, I’m happy for her.

How the mystery was solved was that, continuing to expand on contacting DNA matches, she lucked up on someone who possessed this information, actually had a photo of our grandfathers together.

Mine                                Hers

After her long and arduous search of records, reaching out to others, spending four years on my DNA connection to her, this coming across someone who actually had a photo was, in her words “This has been an almost over whelming spiritual experience”.

Bless her heart.

Being more concerned with where I go from here, what comes after this parenthesis in eternity, I could care less about my roots, but I did find some of her discoveries interesting, stories she’d gleaned.

When I told her how my dad had left my mother, she remembered a conversation she’d heard as a child that her father had with his younger brother, who had left his wife and 2 young children and that, in doing this research, she’d discovered it was a pattern with men on my father’s side — they did not have a problem with marrying a wife, leaving her, marrying another wife, leaving her.

Evidently, the men of past generations, on my father’s side, were players.

My mother, when she was exasperated with me, would say I was “stuck up, just like them”.

“Them” being his side of the family.

I was never “stuck up”, just painfully shy, quiet, meditative, closed off, non-reactive, detached (which seemed to drive some people crazy, my being non-reactive and detached) and mom read it as stuck up; but evidently my father’s side of the family was actually stuck up … thought they were better than.

Genie wrote, "The story is that our great grandmother came from a family of very light skinned Blacks and that her family did not like it when she married our great grandfather, who was dark (because their family tradition was to marry ‘light’)".

In today’s vernacular, ancestors on that side would be labelled as “color struck” — prejudiced against those of their race with a dark skin tone. All in all, from what I've learned of my father's side, they’d also be labelled as bourgeois/boujee.

This so-called family tradition would explain why, in the many matches Ancestry tells me are 2nd, 3rd up to 6th cousins, I see extremely light skinned faces and whites — all on my father’s side.

I do wonder how those faces react when they see with whom they are matched.

Are they shocked?

Embarrassed?

Ashamed?

Or are they proud to know they've got a little color in 'em?

So, anyway, it’s been interesting hearing some of the stories Genie has gleaned and seeing old photos she's provided me, but I don’t think I would have liked or been able to get along with those stuck-ups/boogies who came before, my dad included.

Bucket List

Driving to the dental office this morning, I kept in mind that the address of the acupuncturist (the one I wasn’t too sure of being a thriving business or some sort of back room thing) was in that area.

Lo and behold, the address is directly across the street from the dentist.

Nice area, but none of the businesses on that side of the street look thriving. No lights were on in any of the businesses, there were no people going in/out and, in fact, there was a “for lease” sign up.

The acupuncturist’s office had signage indicating “chiropractor”.

That’s not the same as acupuncture, and I’d be a little afraid of using a bodywork therapist who dabbles, doesn’t specialize in one or the other.

So, my guess is, though it’s no longer a thriving business — due to the pandemic, it’s an on call operation. In that, the answering service lets the therapist know a client needs bodywork, the therapists shows up … that is for the time being. If he’s not getting sufficient business, he’ll probably have to shut down the answering service, close doors altogether.

Dr. McDreamy shared that the pandemic had the dental practice struggling for a while. When I commented on how busy the office looked today, he said, “Thank goodness. We’re almost back to where we were”.

There’s something about McDreamy’s energy that I feed off him. His handsome good looks, blue/grey eyes, now white hair, now soft kinda pudgy body, his deep sexy melodious voice, those attributes just do something to and for me.

Whereas I wasn’t feeling young Doogie, I most definitely feel McDreamy, and it looks like I’m going to be feeling him for a while longer, I won’t have to worry about changing offices just yet.

I did have a new x-ray technician today. The one I’m accustomed to retired in May they tell me. The hygienist, I was assigned to after the pandemic caused my regular to retire, is working out fine. McDreamy’s son is asking for a car, McDreamy and his wife are looking at the cost of college — which he says is shocking, so it’s looking like he’s not going to be able to retire any time soon.

He is, however, scaling back from a five day work week to four.

And btw, after McDreamy looked at the x-rays and did a visual check, he announced everything was okay. No problems noted, not even the spacing issue Young Doogie tried to pull on me.

So, the dentist is off my bucket list. Acupuncture is also off the list because, the old shoulder injury that was aggravated by that back-to-back beast mode workout, has gone into remission, no longer hurts.

Lesson learned though. I won’t be going beast mode again. If Trainer again needs to rearrange my workout day, because of continuing drama with that teen daughter of his, instead of moving me to another day, which puts me back to back, I’ll just gift him the day and keep to schedule.

On my way back from the dentist, I stopped by Target, picked up a few masks to trick that fast walking maskless Covid recovered resident into masking up (per a comment from JanF, except she didn’t say “trick”, that’s my way of seeing it).

From my perch on the couch yesterday morning, I saw her walking two/fro twice on the side walkway — too fast for me to grab the phone, take a snapshot. Seeing her for a third time, in the afternoon, I was relieved to see she was wearing a mask — a white one, no bling.

So she did have a mask other than the bling one she couldn’t find, thought I to myself.

Carrying a purse, she appeared to be headed out.

She no longer has a car, so I’m guessing someone was out front, picking her up and, for the sake of the driver, she masked herself.

Sicnce she’d not been affording us seniors that same courtesy, her white mask for that occasion wouldn’t have been enough for me. She could have wrapped herself in cellophane and I still wouldn’t have had her in my car.

Also yesterday, reviewing Trainer’s Instagram account, before I headed out for the day’s workout, I saw he’d celebrated his birthday the previous day.

I quick fast in a hurry made a Starbucks run for a gift card.

I’ve not yet been to the bank to purchase $2 bills but, had I have done so, I would have included one in the gift card envelope, because I think it would be fun to get those in circulation again.

A birthday yesterday means Trainer’s sun sign is Leo the Lion. All my astrology books are in containers at the back of the patio storage area, so I can’t research to determine why it is he keeps moving thing around in the studio, but moving things around he does.

Readers who’ve been with me for a while will recall that when I began training in September of 2019, the treadmill was located in the back room. Since that time, the treadmill has moved six times, ever closer to the front door, prompting me to jokingly accuse Trainer of trying to push me out the door, get rid of me.

I don’t have to now worry about that being his goal because, when I walked in the door yesterday, I had a shock — there was a couch, where the treadmill had been two days ago.

Did he finally get rid of it you ask?

Well … not exactly.

We’re back to where we started.

So that’s how yesterday and today went. Now that I’ve a mask to pass on to Little Miss Fast Walker Covid Recovered, our paths will probably no longer cross — Murphy’s Law.

That’s just fine by me.

Yesterday and Tomorrow

I ran into that fast walking maskless Covid recovered resident again.

Just my luck that, heading for the car yesterday, she turns a corner, walks directly towards me down my walkway. This time her excuse was “I can’t find my bling mask”.

I thought I was talking to myself in my head, when I angrily mumbled, “You don’t have another?”, but quickly realized I’d angrily mumbled that out loud. LOL.

Fortunately, she was far enough behind me by then that she didn’t hear my utterance because, for sure, I don’t want to get into an argument with a maskless resident who’s recently recovered from Covid. Especially after reading that comment, to the last post, from Linda in Kansas that this neighbor is “not 100%. AND could still spread to others”.

I also ran into Church Lady, asked if she’d attended Movie Night.

She looked confused, as though she didn’t know about Movie Night, but the woman with her said she didn’t think anyone went because she herself had warned residents that if they saw A Quiet Place, they would be too frightened to walk back to their units in the dark because the movie was scary.

Sounds like she went out of her way to sabotage the event.

She needn’t have bothered.

The Tyrant being so NOT well liked, I don’t think anyone wants anything to do with his feeble attempt at providing entertainment to us seniors. No sabotage required. The Tyrant has sabotaged himself.

Hopefully he’ll get the message, give up and not try Movie Night a third time.

At any rate, when this resident said she’d told people the movie was scary, at the mention of “scary”, Church Lady chimed in and said, “Oh no! I don’t do that”. LOL.

So Church Lady, with her list of no "nasty" sex scenes, no bad words, no blood and now, no scary, is very limited in movie viewing.

Back on a regular every six months schedule, it’s off to the dentist I go tomorrow.

The handsome Dr. McDreamy was not in last time. I got stuck with a DDS I’ve never seen before, who looked to be about 15 years old, prompting me to give him the blog name of Doogie (after that TV kid doctor, Doogie Howser MD).

Doogie made a bad first impression.

I saw ego and overconfidence when he said he’d found an area up front, lower teeth, that appeared to be spacing. That it looked like it once had a filling, the filling fell out and that it was an easy fix. “We wouldn’t even have to numb the area”.

Thing is, I’d never had a filling in that area which, if Doogie had first looked at my chart he would have known. So, rather than walking in there acting/talking like a big man in an effort to impress, he left me feeling not only NOT impressed but distrustful .... that he was trying to pad the bill.

I made up my mind weeks ago that, if McDreamy is again not available (in the process of scaling back, semi retiring) and I get stuck with Doogie, I’m going to be looking for another dentist. Preferably, a female.

In fact, when the hygienist goes to set up my next appointment, I’m going to ask if there is a female DDS at one of their other locations and go from there.

If asked why, I’m going to be honest and say I’m just not feeling Doogie.

A Guilty Mind

From my perch on the couch yesterday, I saw the fast walking resident who’d recently recovered from being hospitalized with Covid. She was on the side walkway heading towards the Laundry Room, laundry basket in hand, and she was not wearing a mask.

Note to self: Take disinfectant spray when next you enter the Laundry Room.

I’m assuming she set her laundry to wash and was done for the moment, because I again observed her on the walkway, this time heading back towards her unit.

I did not see her return to remove wash and set laundry to dry but, when I later went out to drop trash in the bin, then loop around to check mail, there her maskless self was.

She was sitting on the bench outside the Laundry Room and, when she saw me coming down the walkway, having to pass her maskless self to get to my unit, she greeted me by saying, “Hi. I forgot my mask”.

A guilty mind.

She knew she was wrong to be trapsing around here maskless — when we are once again under the governor’s mask mandate, and came up with an excuse to ward off my saying anything.

It was an obvious lie that she’d forgotten her mask. Obvious to me because I’d see her twice on the walkway, once when she was headed back to her unit and could easily have retrieved her mask before heading back to sit on the bench.

Reminded me of a story a coworker once told me about his childhood growing up in the country.

He said he’d been a mischievous child and, with not much to do in the county, he and another neighbor boy had stolen a chicken.

I don’t recall if he said what the boys did with the chicken but, shortly after stealing, it there was a knock on the door.

He said he opened the door, saw it was an officer of the law and immediately blurted out, “I didn’t steal no chicken!”.

His guilty mind made his mouth utter that lie, before the officer even asked. To top it off, the officer was there on another matter. Knew nothing about a chicken having been stolen.

At any rate, after this fast walking maskless neighbor lied to me about forgetting her mask, she complimented my mask and wished me a blessed day — which is her usual greeting to all us neighbors … “Have a blessed day”.

Deliver me from these overly religious types.

Waking up to the below Breaking News is giving me pause.

I’m not looking forward to a booster but, fortunately, I was late to the party, can observe how things go with the boosters, won’t have to make a decision until January.

How are you feeling about a booster ... Is it yeah or nay or whatever — it is what it is?

Knock Knock, Who's There?

It’s granddaughter and her hubby. Neither of whom I’ve laid eyes on since Thanksgiving 2019.

We've been in contact since then, but the 2020 shutdown prevented our being in physical proximity, even prevented my attending their wedding, which I instead witnessed online.

In the area yesterday, picking up a friend who lives in the adult building next door, then all three heading to a local casino, both granddaughter and hubby (a first responder) vaccinated and masked up, the two decided to stop by before picking up that friend.

Grandbaby gifted me with some very cool rocks that she’d purchased at a Silent Auction, put on by a Rock and Gem Club. Upon seeing the rocks, she said she’d immediately thought of me.

Awwwwwww.

Adding to my humble collection are North Ireland, Moscow, Japan, Rome, China, Grand Canyon and Maine.

When I pulled out my Funny Money stash to show grandson-in-law the dollar bill that looks like it's been in a robbery, granddaughter spotted that $2 bill and said someone gave her a $2 bill for a birthday present a while back. She calls it her Lucky $2 Bill and always carries it with her.

So, at least I know there's someone in the family that knows my $2 bill is legal tender and won't toss it.

In talking about people who've been hassled and arrested because there are others who've never seen a $2 bill and assumed the money was fake, granddaughter made a good point ... "You'd think they'd logic it out that, if someone was going to make fake money, why would they have chosen a $2 bill?"

Good one.

Indoctrinating grandson-in-law on family history, I pulled out a few of the Creative Memory albums for him to scan through, including the book that held that photo of my ex and I in Vegas, getting married.

Both granddaughter and hubby remarked on how much her brother, Middle Grandson, looks like my ex.

A light bulb went off in my head and it was OMG! He does.

So I now know why it is that, of the three boys, Middle Grandson is the one that chaps my hide. It’s not just his asking for money, it’s because he reminds me my ex.

Middle Grandson displays those characteristics I blogged about — he’s tall, dark, handsome, arrogant, overly confident, self-assured, in addition to which he's self-involved and thinks he’s the smartest person in the room when, in actuality, he doesn't know jack.

He’s also a con man because, when I told granddaughter I’d block his number to prevent his continuing to ask me for money (something she didn’t know he’d been doing with me), she said that he’d quit his job because he'd been having a hard time at work.

"A hard time" in his vernacular probably means he was expected to take orders and work, not lollygag around.

At any rate, not much of an excuse for quitting because, judging from my experience — as indicated in the excerpts posted from that old journal about those years with the witches, Middle Grandson doesn't know what "hard" is. So no sympathy from me.

Even less sympathy when granddaughter said part of the reason he quit was that the job interfered with his going to school.

My thought on that was what school, hah!

I am no longer believing about needing money for school and books. But even so, that too is a sorry excuse for quitting his job when his younger brother, who actually is in school (junior college), works two jobs. Not to mention that, back in the day, I was raising Middle Grandson's mom and aunt as a single parent, holding down a full time job AND going to school at night for secretarial science, then court reporting. So, again no sympathy, that HE can't hold down a job and go to school (if there is a school) when he has only himself to support.

At any rate, Middle Grandson used those excuses to quit, turned around and conned his sister out of $500, conned their mom into paying his rent, then went to Las Vegas.

He foolishly posted photos of himself having a jolly old time in Vegas, which his sister happened to see.

What a jerk that child has grown up to be. He's a pimp. He pimped his mom, his sister, pimped me once, but tried twice.

Once this pandemic is over, and there’s a family gathering, I don’t think I’ll be able to look at him without wanting to slap his face.

At least I’m out of the circle of people he can use, this door is closed. I think, after seeing him do Vegas, he's conned his sister for the last time as well.

So, anyway, seeing granddaughter and her hubby was a nice surprise.

Field of Dreams

Because of the drought, grass here at the senior complex is dying. It’s not unusual to see small patches of brown spots appearing and, on the grassy knoll, there is one huge patch of brown …. or at least there was.

Returning to my unit one day last week, I noticed there was something different about the grassy knoll. Couldn’t put my finger on it but, once back upstairs, I went to my bedroom window, which gives me the best view, looked out and noticed the brown patch was gone. Had mysteriously disappeared. 

Before

After

How is that possible? thought I. Did they paint it? Can grass be painted?

Evidently yes, grass can be painted because, heading out to run a quick errand today, I saw a landscaper on the knoll doing just that … painting the grass.

Quite a clever hack.

Speaking of grass, I’ve been hearing so much about some kind of baseball game where Kevin Costner reenacted Field of Dreams.

Wanting to see what the hubbub was all about, I looked it up on YouTube and though some said Costner’s coming through the corn, walking onto the field, looking around, and then baseball players coming through the corn was cheesy, I found it touching, emotional. Especially when some of the players walked over to Costner, shook his hand (even though we’re not supposed to be doing that in his pandemic age — shake hands).

Of course, with no interest in baseball, I stopped watching after someone said “Play ball”.

Speaking of hacks, I spent majority of the day trying out that tile cleaning hack given me by the Dermatologist’s assistant (nurse?) of using Clorox Blue Toilet Bowl Gel.

Turned out to be just another fail in a long line of fails I’ve tried over the years to get the tiles looking spot free, brand spanking new.

That business of her telling me there was no scrubbing, turned out to not be the case. I did see some little difference once I applied the usual elbow grease, but I wasn’t about to wear myself out vigorously scrubbing tile all day/half the night — been there done that.

Instead, I pulled out the steam cleaner, which has a scrubbing attachment.

Still, at the end of the day, this hack — just like all of the many products I’ve tried over the years to get into the creases/crevices of tile, didn’t work any better than anything else.

Oh well. Maybe the tile is not as pretty as I would like, but definitely clean. Plus, on a non-workout day I logged in 4,665 steps, burned 1,350 calories.

It's a win/win.

Friday the 13th

Fun fact … I got married on a Friday the 13th.

I did not intend to get married that day, didn’t intend on getting married AT ALL, even though the cop I was dating, who later became father of my girls, and I had been together for a while.

How it happened was … he decided at the last minute for us to fly to Vegas to see the Sammy Davis Jr. show and, once in Vegas couldn’t get tickets, the show was sold out.

On a lark, he suggested we get married and, caught up in the moment, I foolishly said okay.

Some guys make great boyfriends, but you wouldn't want to marry them, have to live with them 24/7.

At any rate, we rushed around, bought outfits and did the do, with me thinking well maybe Friday the 13th being a bad luck day, will do the opposite and bring us good luck.

News Flash, it didn’t; but oh well.

Coming back from the Dermatologist on Tuesday, I stopped for gas. While pumping, a guy at an adjacent pump engaged me in conversation, mostly about the fire off in the distance, I was looking at.

He said he had a fire app on his phone and that, when there’d been a really bad fire in that same location three years ago, people living in that area had asked for help on the app. He and some friends had responded to the plea, driven up, helped evacuate some of their animals.

As our conversation ended, he and I drove away, I began thinking … why is it that I normally so easily engage, enjoy listening to the life stories of strangers, but don’t want that security guard to even breathe my way? 

Looking through old photos to email to a woman who found me on Ancestry and is doing root work on the family (more on that later), mystery was solved.

The Ex-Husband

The girls dad was a Handsome devil and, while looking at that old photo, I realized the Security Guard gives me the heebie jeebies because he reminds me of my ex. The resident I refer to in the blog as Handsome Man also reminds me of my ex, which is why he too gets on my nerves at times. Both are tall, dark, good looking, well built, both carry themselves in a dignified manner and give off that arrogant self-assured vibe that so annoys me.

So, there you have it.

Heebie Jeebies mystery solved.

My attitude towards the two is a case of Once Bitten.

Doesn't mean that every guy who reminds me of my ex is an undercover psycho, who lures women in with their good looks and charming dignified demeanor but, if the vibe is felt, doesn't mean they are not.

And while we’re on the subject of devils — this one not tall, not dark, certainly not good looking or carrying himself in a dignified manner, but most assuredly giving off that arrogant self-assured vibe … the Tyrant has sought fit to bestow a movie on the seniors this evening — A Quiet Place is to be shown in the Clubhouse at 2:30, and this time the Tyrant made sure to indicate RSVP.

I’ve not seen A Quiet Place, but I know it’s hours of no talking by characters in the movie because, if you make a sound, it will attract a monster.

I do enjoy a good horror, but that kind of suspense stresses me out.

I’m hoping to run into Church Lady, so I can ask if she’s planning to attend this afternoon. When my buddy Apache was in charge of Movie Night, Church Lady was so over the top appalled at his showing Halle Berry/Billy Bob Thornton’s Monsters Ball to the seniors, because of the "nasty" sex scenes. She disapproves of movies with “bad words”, movies with blood, so I’m curious to see what about A Quiet Place, a movie filled with silence and monsters, will offend her sensitive nature.

Will be interesting if any of the residents respond to the Tyrant’s movie night at all, but not interesting enough for me to go down and check it out.