7th of Halloween

Now that the candy corn window cling is up, it really does look like the sweet trap the wicked witch set up to lure Hansel and Gretel in.

Having cling left over, I asked Next Door Neighbor (NDN) if she wanted to be window twins and also use an extra box of lights (I over bought) on her patio.

She did indeed.

Only thing yet to be done is the candy corn witch. She flies in on the 17th.

NDN bemoaned the fact she doesn't have a Halloween door wreath, but then remembered she has an actual bag of candy corn in the cupboard. She’s going to hang it on the door as a wreath. LOL.

So in a sea of residents, so far it’s just us two getting with it.

The visuals are sure to lure in the grandchildren of downstairs neighbor to the right, when they stop by to show grandma their costumes. So, I’d better pick up some kind of treats.

If the kids are no-shows, I can leave the treats in the Community Room for the seniors.

Heading back to my unit, after detouring by the mailbox upon returning from the pain cave yesterday morning, who did I see sitting on the bench outside the Laundry Room but the usually mask less resident who recovered from Covid.

Of course, she was once again without a mask. And, of course, her words once again gave away her sense of guilt because, before I could even open my mouth to say hello, she said, “Your mask reminded me. I forgot my mask”.

"I forgot" is like a broken record with this woman.

Later that morning, I headed out to drop off trash.

I got all the way down the stairs and halfway to the dumpster before I realized I’d forgotten my mask.

I didn’t turn back, and I made it there and back without crossing anyone’s path, but now I know … "I forgot" can happen.

Sitting on the couch, looking around, perusing all I’d have to pack up if management deems me over income, is unnerving.

So unnerving that I’ve decided, except for essentials, not to unpack if there is a move. To henceforth live with bare walls and big items — like a bed, couch, table, TV, laptop, indoor bike, because packing/unpacking is just too stressful — mentally, emotionally, physically.

I ran into the Baker on Tuesday, told her I might be leaving and why …. That I’ve added up my sources of income and would just barely be within the parameters, but for the fact management includes what’s in my savings and checking, which puts me waaaay over.

I said it hardly seemed fair to include savings/checking because both come from the same pot of earned income.

The Baker clued me in on information that’s given me a glimmer of light. That glimmer being ONLY earned income and accrued interest is factored in.

I don’t think so, but I’ve never wanted to be more wrong in my life.

The Baker also also shared intel that I can bring up if management does include checking/savings …. That intel being, at one time, we had four millionaires living on the property.

She won’t say which millionaires are still living here, but she did say two have passed away.

One was Jeep Guy.

Long-time readers will recall him as the nice old guy who purchased a jeep just like mine, but whose active senior lifestyle was turned upside down by a broken pelvic bone, the result of a slip/fall in McDonald’s.

What ensued was not the $$$$$ I foresaw from a lawsuit but, instead, death through suicide, less than three months later, because he could not handle the pain and being dependent on others.

Turns out, he would probably not have sued McDonald’s anyway, because he was already a millionaire.

The Baker said she was actually present when he opened his safe, counted out the price of the jeep, went and paid cash for it.

The other millionaire was the senior with the beautiful singing voice, let's call her "The Voice".

Her death was sudden, unexpected. I’d seen her the day before, when she was talking about plans to babysit her grandchildren the next day. She was found deceased in the bathroom the next morning.

The Baker said she’d seen the Voice's bank account and "She had so much money that she could have lived anywhere”.

She went on to disclose that the Voice came from a well-heeled prominent family, and had a boyfriend who passed away, left her a Cadillac and his fortune. She'd sold the Cadillac, pocketed that cash and, when the Voice passed away, she was waiting for her portion of a $7 million inheritance that was in probate.

I asked why the Voice stayed here when she could have lived anywhere and lived well, to which the Baker replied, “She didn’t want to spend any of it”.

So, I guess Jeep Guy, the Voice, and the other two living here incognito, are like those we read about who appear to be poor, live frugally, but hoard/hide their wealth and, when they die, folks are surprised to learn they were wealthy.

I certainly was surprised, but it didn’t seem to have served either one well to hoard/live frugally. It didn’t buy Jeep Guy health after that fall, didn’t buy the Voice longevity, and they couldn’t take it with them.

As to how millionaires acquire units on the property in the first place, I can only guess they were locked in here before inheriting/becoming millionaires. How they remained after inheriting might be what the Baker said — earned income factored in, inherited money not, even though they had huge amounts in checking/savings.

I’ll find out which it is when I meet with Assistant Manager, submit my paperwork for recertification next week, but if it begins to look bad for me, you can bet I'll be asking questions.