Meet the Parents

Not my parents — my father (whom I’d never met but did get to see just before they closed the casket at his funeral) went on to his next life a long time ago, mom has gone on to hers as well.

The parents I’m speaking of are the parents of the soon to be baby birds nesting in the eaves over my head.

There has been much cooing, many flyovers and sightings last few days.

I’ve spotted the parents on the roof, caught a parent leaving poop on the patio wall and one day, as smaller birds were hoovering and flying by, I’d swear I was witnessing a baby shower.

Dental procedures off my mind, I was out of bed early this morning, feeling a new lease on life.

Hearing cooing, I opened the blinds, expecting to see the parents on the roof again. Instead, I caught them grocery shopping — the early bird catching the worm so to speak.

With the parents out shopping, the eggs or baby birds — whichever gestation period they’re in, are home alone.

The parents better not leave them alone too long because twice this week I’ve seen lizards climbing up the side of the wall by the stairs, making it all the way up to, over and onto the roof.

Is it because the lizards know the nest is up there? Are they after the eggs, the baby birds, or the food the parents are stockpiling?

I don’t know what lizards eat, but I suspect one item on their food list are crickets because, now that the complex is overrun with lizards, we no longer have a problem with crickets.

With two packages to pick up today, one near the Farmer’s Market ... which meant I’d likely end up there, drinking coffee, listening to music, I headed out.

First stop was the corner UPS Store — and not because I wanted to, but because I had to. A book I’d ordered was dropped off at that location rather than in my mailbox or on the doorstep.

As for why I avoid that location it's because the young girls who work there are slow and sooooooo friggin stupid. I mean honestly, not even funny stupid. They just grate on my last nerve and, looking at their Yelp reviews, it’s not just me.

One day, I was at the counter for 30 minutes as the cashier hunted around on her screen, pecked at this key that key, kept calling someone over to look at her screen, help her out. Once she figured it out, she wanted to charge me $200 for shipping.

I declined, drove to the post office, was in/out in 10 minutes @ $14.

After that time, I never again went in to ship anything out, but thought just buying a mailer now and then would go okay.

It didn't.

I walked in one day, picked up one of their mailers, walked up to the cashier, put it on the counter to pay for. She picked it up, looked at it, flipped it over to look at the other side, looked at me like she didn’t know what I was doing at the counter, then asked "Do you want to buy this?"

I was tempted to say, "No. I'm standing here because I want to steal it" but, stupid as she seemed to be, she'd have called the cops, reported a robbery in progress.

There’re three girls, all about the same age, so I figure one is the manager, two are friends she’s given a job to, and all are so stupid that, except for having no choice today, that was the last time I set foot in the store.

I walk in, say, "I have a pickup", give the girl the notice that says in big bold letters “Your Package is Ready for Pickup” and details the store’s address, also in big bold letters.

She looks at the notice, flips it over to look at the back side, then gives me a blank look and asked, "You want a copy?"

Honestly, there’s just no fixing stupid.

Remainder of the day went well. I picked up my other package, stopped by the Farmer’s Market for a few.

No music today, just a lot of delicious looking food and snacks I can't have.

Hood Corn isn't anything I'd eat, even if I could, but it must be good because there was a long line of folks waiting to buy.

No music, nothing I could eat, so I bailed and instead headed to Sprouts for a few gluten-free items.

There I heard music I could have listened to for hours.

The wording on his donation box said something to the effect "For food, for living" and indicated he’d take cash donations, Zelle or Cash App (money transfers).

How that would work for a street performer I do not know, but I thought it quite genius of him to think of it.

Old people are coming out of retirement to deliver pizzas, bag groceries, and this guy is working his musical talent, while young people fully capable of working are opting to steal, do street robberies or, like the one grandson I bitched about, pimp his grandma with that story of "Grandma, I’m trying to work, go to school, can you help me out". Which I did (@$1,800 to "catch up on bills"), only to later learn he was not working, not trying to go to school, and had the audacity to hit me up again two weeks later.

Gaggle of Geese

Arriving at the dental office five minutes before my 2:00 appointment, unlike yesterday’s 55-minute wait and two painful shots before Doogie was ready to start the procedure, today I was immediately seated in the chair, the assistant took my BP (132/78), Dr. A came in, gave me two painless shots, did the two fillings and I was in the car on the way home at 2:24.

I guess it’s true what they say — "The squeaky wheel gets the grease" except, in my case, it was dramatically screeching "I’m scared … I’m scared … I’m scared".

It was totally out of character for me to have lost my cool, but I guess it needed to be done because the receptionist said, "Maybe we should let patients know when there’s a substitution of doctors".

Ya think?

No maybe about it, they probably discussed my freakout and determined the new policy would be to let the patient know. I won’t agree to a substitution, but at least I won’t be ambushed again.

Knowing I wouldn’t be travelling through the area of the library for a few months — when I go back for a cleaning, I made time to visit the Canadian Geese on the way to the dental office.

It was a gaggle of geese. I counted eight.

Seeing a landscaper running a sprinkler, watering the library lawn (this after the Metropolitan Water District declared a drought emergency, asking us to cut down on outdoor watering), I walked over and asked "Where are all the geese coming from?"

"The lake" said he.

"There’s a lake around here?" asked I.

"Yes. Are you new to the area?"

I didn’t want to look stupid for not knowing we have a lake, so I lied and said "yes".

"Well, if you drive straight down this street (pointing right), you’ll run right into Secombe Lake".

Looking online, I see the lake is only 2.5 miles away, but I won’t be checking it out any time soon because it’s described by visitors as "Homeless and drug ridden location, not the best for children but has 2 playgrounds and largemouth bass in lake” … “Its’ trashy and its one of those places where you need to grow eyes in the back of your head. Water looks filthy".

No wonder the geese are migrating over to the well-kept area of the library.

There’s a news article indicating the city, in February, received $9 million in federal aid for upgrades to the lake, playground area and walking trail. So maybe I’ll check out the lake if and when upgrades are done. I won’t be risking any walking trail though.

Just Sayin’

Watching the prisoner exchange of Trevor Reed for Konstantin Yaroshenko, on the news this morning, reminded me of Season 4 of Fargo, where Chris Rock was the lead character Loy Cannon.

In Season 4, to keep the peace, leader of each crime family traded their youngest son to be raised by the opposite side.

Loy’s family treated the kid they got in the swap like family. The kid lived like family, ate with the family, looked to be having a good time and thrived. While the life of Loy’s kid with the other family was tantamount to being in prison. His days were spent locked in a room with nothing but a bodyguard to make sure he didn’t escape and, while that family was enjoying huge family meals, Loy’s kid was being fed peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

That’s what came to mind when I saw what terrible shape Trevor Reed was in — sunken eyes, couldn’t even walk without assistance, while Konstantin Yaroshenko looked like he’d just gotten back from vacation — refreshed, healthy, well fed.

So, obviously, we took better care of their child than they did ours.

Just sayin'.

This morning’s dental appointment for the last two fillings, did not go well inasmuch as I freaked out and created a scene.

I’d left the complex in time enough to stop by the library, watch the Canadian Geese.

It’s a good thing I stayed in the car because, at one point, the geese crossed the lawn, came straight towards the car, ended up right next to my passenger side window.

I think one was enjoying the country music coming through the radio.

Arriving at the dental office in a timely manner, the receptionist asked me to sign the summary of work to be done — two fillings and an additional $350 for something I did not recognize.

"What’s that?" I asked before signing and paying for today’s procedure.

"It’s a mouth guard to keep you from grinding your teeth at night".

"I don’t want that".

"But the dentist recommended it".

"I didn’t agree to it. I don’t want it".

So that taken off the bill, I paid and was promptly seated in the dentist’s chair around 11:05.

And there I waited, and waited, and waited.

Eventually a woman came in, took my blood pressure (144/69).

"Do you have heart problems", she asked.

Thinking it a strange question, I started to be a smartass, say "I don’t have a heart", but just said "no".

She left and I waited some more.

She eventually returned, said the pressure was too high, per the doctor, took it again (123/69).

After more waiting, a young dentist came in, introduced himself.

He wasn’t the dentist I’d been working with (Dr. A), but he seemed personable, the fillings were easy peasy with Dr. A., I expected these last two fillings to be just as easy peasy, so I let it slide that young Doogie Howser would be doing the two fillings instead.

"Do you have heart problems" he asked.

Again, it was "no" as I wondered why they'd ask that question and he went on to say he was going to give me time to relax, let the pressure go down.

I’m thinking what the heck, because the pressure was down, according to the last check.

It was then I realized I was being stalled because Doogie was working on another patient in the next space over.

I didn’t like that assembly line dentistry, just like at the other dental office, but didn’t say or do anything about it as I waited more.

Eventually, Doogie came back in, gave me two numbing shots which hurt like hell.

I attributed it to the fact he was rushing, multitasking, working on two patients at the same time, going back and forth.

Once again left alone for the shots to take effect, I began thinking how I didn’t even feel the shots given by Dr. A, and that if Doogie’s shots hurt as much as they did, how was his work on the fillings going to go.

Was that why they kept asking about my heart? Was he going to hurt me into heart failure if I had a weak heart?

All of a sudden, the still small voice inside spoke up and said "Leave".

Now, that voice is usually only heard in deep meditation on rare occasions. So, the fact that it was speaking at this time and place meant something.

I actually sat straight up in the chair when I heard it say "leave", grabbed my bag and was getting out of the chair poised to do just that ... leave (I'd been there since 11:00, it was now 11:55).

Doogie chose that moment to walk back in, ready to begin work, asking if I felt numb now.

"Yes, but I don’t feel comfortable with you".

Poor baby looked like I’d struck him.

"With me?" he quizzedly asked.

"Yes. Those shots you gave me really hurt. I’m now worried about how the rest will go. The doctor who worked on me before was so gentle that I didn’t even feel his shots".

"Dr. A. isn’t working today" said his assistant.

"I’ll come back when he is", said I.

"But you’re already numb" said she.

I began hysterically screeching "I’m scared! ... I’m scared!! ... I’m scared!!!

Everyone scattered.

I left with an appointment to return tomorrow at 2:00, when Dr. A will be doing the shots, working on the fillings.

If I hadn’t already paid, I’d probably not go back.

When I return tomorrow, I expect I’ll either be serviced immediately and with kid gloves or given a refund and told never to return.

I’m good with either one.

If and when these last two fillings are done, Hell will freeze over before I submit to any further dental work — other than regular cleanings.

Chutzpah

I couldn’t believe the chutzpah, the nerves, the unmitigated gall when I received a bill from the dental office I recently left in my rear view.

After Dr. C scammed me into $2,974.40 worth of work — which I paid for up front, in yesterday’s mail was a statement detailing all the work performed and a bill for an additional $74.40 for something called "Limited Oral Eval Prob Focused".

I’ve no idea what "limited oral eval prob focused" is but it looks like greed.

Seventy-five dollars is not worth going to war with these people, so I dropped a check off in the mail this morning, along with a note … "Take me off your patient list because, like other long-time patients leaving the practice have commented in Yelp and Google reviews, I realize this is no longer a dental office but a machinery to make money through questionable business practices and misleading us patients".

I seriously doubt this will have an impact on their continuing to scam patients into expensive unnecessarily invasive dental work. They'll keep taking advantage unless and until they run out of suckers. I’ll just have to take pleasure in knowing I'm no longer one of those suckers. Dr. C will not be getting the additional $5,000 he’d expected from the Proposed Treatment Plan he’d tried to ram down my throat.

So, that's that.

I’ll probably get audited by the IRS next year when I submit my taxes because, after years of just a few hundred dollars for x-rays and cleanings, they’ll never believe I’ve paid as much in dental procedures as the 2022 tax return will show.

As I was walking out of this morning’s workout, Beverly Hills was walking in.

If you will recall, she’s a recent transplant to the Rancho Cucamonga area, having relocated from Beverly Hills; and, seeing homeless people for the first time, was worried about her safety at the Pain Cave.

She must have overcome that fear because she's working out regularly; and actually, needn’t have worried about her safety inasmuch as she’s enrolled in the Group Kickboxing Class, with Trainer's badass guys and gals, which makes Miss Beverly Hills a badass. Well-equipped to defend herself.

Besides, watching news of the wave of what’s going on in her old hood — follow home burglaries and daytime robberies along the exclusive Rodeo Drive area, Miss Beverly Hills is probably safer here than there.

Seeing Beverly Hills walk in caused me to realize I’ve not seen any of the homeless people around. Not only have I not seen the regulars who live on the streets, hang around the Pain Cave and the shopping center for some time, I’ve not seen any even walking through the area.

Where did everyone go, thought I.

THEN I remembered something I’d seen on Monday, when I was leaving the Pain Cave and took to be a quasi-medication deal — if you know what I mean.

Checking the Garmin Drive to see what the camera had picked up on Monday, it showed two men standing under the tree where the homeless usually hang out.

A white car pulled up at the curb, a man got out, walked to the two men. There was an exchange of words, THEN the man gave one of the guys at the tree something, that guy in turn reached into his pocket, gave the man something, whereupon the man quickly turned around and walked back to his car.

It looked like a you-know-what buy to me and may explain why the homeless have left the area …. dealers chased them away.

Never a dull moment around here. Always something interesting going on.

I've often thought what I'd do were I fortunate enough to win the Powerball. Would I move? Buy a home or a condo?

Believe it or not, I'd try to remain where I am because I can’t imagine living in some upscale neighborhood where I’m bored to tears because nothing interesting ever happens.

Stilettos in the Snow

I’ve been happily doing my own mani pedi since the nail salon screwed up my appointment back in March. They’d failed to book a manicurist, which left the pedicurist to do both. She did the usual bang-up job on the pedi but, bless her heart, manicures are not her thing. So, the job she did on my nails wasn’t up to snuff.

I wasn’t planning another spa day until a few days before a meditation retreat I’m booked to attend next month. In fact, Twin 2 had called on Sunday, suggested a spa day for Mother’s Day, and I’d said no — but only because I’m not feeling Mother’s Day this year. I don’t want to do anything, don’t want to go anywhere, just want to be left alone.

So, anyway, though I was not planning a spa day, had just turned down one, pain on the bottom of my feet dictated otherwise.

Returning from yesterday’s workout, kicking off my workout shoes, I found myself limping because my bare feet touching the floor was painful.

I dealt with it for a few hours but then decided I’d better call the spa before they closed for the evening, book an appointment for today.

I made sure the receptionist understood I was booking a manicurist AND my usual pedicurist, did not feel comfortable she’d gotten it right and was ready to be pissed this morning arriving to find they’d gotten it wrong again.

Woo Hoo! she'd gotten it right.

Pedicurist said pain on the balls of the feet is caused by the dry weather and suggested Eucerin Advanced Repair Foot Cream to keep the feet moisturized. So, I’ll pop into the drug store after tomorrow’s workout.

I was drawn to red polish today and seeing one called Stilettos in the Snow could not resist the color or the name.

Stilettos in the Snow is bold, sassy, makes me feel like doing something wild.

Beep Beep!

I was a no-show at a 5K scheduled for this morning.

Though it looked to be a huge event —a multisport Triathlon (swimming, biking, running), simultaneously with a 5K and Kid’s Triathlon, it was advertised in such a way that it only came to my attention four days ago.

I haven’t been keeping up with training for 5Ks — heck, I haven’t even been out walking since last on the college campus in February, but figuring I could muddle along, finish slow but complete the course, I registered for the event.

The race site was close enough that I could drive to but, once I began reading the package pickup and parking instructions, it became readily apparent getting there was going to be more trouble than it was worth.

Inasmuch as the organizers suggested arriving before 6:00 AM in order to get parking, I began looking for a hotel near the site so I could do an overnight stay, walk to the site, not have to get up at 3:00 AM in order to get dressed, fed, on the road, arrive, park, then wait around for my 7:00 start time.

With no hotels near enough to make getting there any easier on me, I nixed the 5K, ate the registration fee.

So instead of doing 3.1 miles on a race course today, I got my steps in going up the stairs down the stairs, up the stairs down the stairs, up down, down up, walking to/from the laundry room doing laundry.

In the course of doing so, I opened the door to head down and saw a roadrunner stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Before I could snap a photo, it took off, so I went looking.

If you’ve never tried videotaping a roadrunner in motion, let me tell you — those suckers are fast. So, forgive me if the tape is jumpy because walking and filming, while trying to keep up ain't easy. Plus, it was windy outside and I was being careful not to stumble and fall because the last time I saw a roadrunner on the property, back in 2018, I failed to pay attention to where I was stepping and managed to fall backwards over a bush.

Luckily, I didn't break any bones during that fall, but I felt like I'd been hit by a truck for a long time after.

I lost sight of the roadrunner as it rounded the corner, but caught one last glimpse as it hung a left.

Then it was gone for good.

The only times I've seen a roadrunner, other than as a cartoon on TV, has been on this property. Twice in 2018 and again today. As I continued on with going back and forth to the laundry room, I kept an eye out should it return.

It didn’t return but, on one of those trips, I did see the Talker and her Karen neighbor in the same space at the same time.

Talker didn’t seem to be in any kind of danger — besides she was using a cane today and could have used it as a weapon if need be. The two just seemed to be talking, but I kept an eye out in case things looked to be going bad.

Bad didn't happen. It appeared to be a friendly conversation, though Talker did later seem to be trying to walk away, get to wherever she was going. As their conversation continued, Talker did began walking away.

Karen stuck to Talker like glue, walked along with her until they were out of sight.

That was slick. Karen can’t be accused of following Talker if she’s walking along with her, lol.

I think she followed, oops, I mean walked along with her all the way to Talker’s car.

Earth Day

The way things are going on this planet, can you blame me for being up in the air as to a definite yes or no.

Oops, I Did it Again

The dental office called yesterday to say the crown arrived, was I free to come in Thursday morning instead of Friday.

I was free and I could come in, so the permanent crown was taken care of this morning, is off my bucket list, and I'm on schedule for tomorrow's Pain Cave session, last workout of the week.

I definitely had no plans for further dental work unless and until the manure hit the fan. Not even when the x-rays they’d taken, when I’d first made contact with this dental office for a second opinion, indicated five small cavities — which I felt fundamentally unfair inasmuch as I brush, floss, consume very little sugary foods … stevia in my coffee instead of sugar and the rare See's Candy run.

At any rate, going over the procedure to be performed this morning, taking my blood pressure (135/66), it was said, "We have time to address those cavities. We can do three fillings on the left".

No, said I. "I really need a break from all this dental stuff. Let’s address it when I next have a cleaning".

"We can do that. I understand your needing a break, but keep in mind they’re small now. You don’t want to wait until they turn into needing crowns".

I really did not want to go to the expense and work of more crowns, so I capitulated said, "Let’s do it, get it out of the way before I chicken out later".

What a difference a skilled dentist makes, because the permanent crown and fillings were easy breezy with this guy.

Even his pain killing shots went down easy, with less lasting aftereffects than that other guy.

The worse thing about all of it was the sound of the drill reverberating in my head.

So yeah, oops, I did it again and will be doing it again next Thursday for the two fillings on the right.

Then for sure, I'm taking a break, won’t be having any further work done, won’t be needing any further work.

I had time to take the scenic route to the dental office this morning, wasn’t even thinking I’d see the Canadian Geese again. Thought they were long gone; but I looked over when I got to the library and lo and behold there they were.

I wanted to follow, see where they go when not out in the open, but didn’t want to be late for my appointment.

Of course, they weren’t there when I stopped by on the return drive and had time to follow.

Maybe next week.

Mixed Bag

I took a stroll outside yesterday, to check the area where I'd seen wild mushrooms growing and found them gone.

Don’t know if Karen got to them or another resident or the landscapers but fortunately, when first spotted, I’d taken photos.

The plan, after this morning’s workout, was to head to the dentist for removal of that temporary crown.

However, the dental office called yesterday to reschedule to 10:00 Friday.

It’s already been four weeks, when it should have been only two, so "What’s the holdup" I asked.

Something to do with the permanent crown not yet being delivered by the lab.

The lab must be on Pluto, thought I, as I reluctantly agreed to give up Friday’s workout so I can get the work done and over with.

I am so over dentists that I’ll not be having any further preventive work done. I’ll wait until something goes wrong and I have no choice — from proactive to reactive.

It was a mixed bag the night I checked Twitter to see how Spring Baking Championship (SBC) fans were reacting to Carolyn being brought back.

Unlike Instagram, where the show’s media team can and do delete unfavorable comments, they can’t control Twitter and, though two or three were supportive of Carolyn coming back, the majority called the fairness of it into question, and universally voiced their displeasure of the new host.

"Not loving this season SBC where one mistake can send you home until they randomly change the rules" … "How is bringing Carolyn back fair? I'm out. This season is terrible" … "It’s horribly unfair that she gets another chance" … "SBC just out here making up their own rules. Eliminate someone too early. Bring them back. I mean, why bother having any rules anyway?" … "No way Carolyn should have come back. If they were going to have that be a new element in the show it should have been announced in the beginning. I'll finish watching this season but I hope Molly isn't here for any other Baking Championship" … "They had no business bringing Carolyn back. Done with this bullshit show" … "Molly Yeh makes me want to rip my eyes out and shove them in my ears" … "Molly should go back to the farm" …"If Carolyn wins, it’ll seem like favoritism" … and so on and so on and so on.

Newsflash …. Carolyn IS going to win and it IS favoritism.

I guess the show's Instagram page received so much flack that they got tired of deleting comments — like they promptly deleted my comment calling them out on being sketchy, and solved the issue by deleting the entire post, which was a photo of the remaining contestants.

If I were Carolyn, I’d be embarrassed and want no part of being called back to ultimately win under such circumstances.

I’m equating it to someone who recently won an Oscar — so you win your Oscar, you win Spring Baking Championship, but it’s a tainted victory that, even though you go on to enjoy fame and fortune, the wrongness of it will weigh on you.

It's bad Juju for everyone involved.

In other news ... and don't get mad my UK friends at this but I'm just wondering that, since Harry and Megan got such lovely comments about their attendance at the Invictus Games and PDA, if Kate and William will come up with something comparable since they do tend to compete for the lion's share of attention.

Just sayin.

I Blame Bingo

Slept the weekend away. Could not keep my eyes open. Kept falling asleep.

In between long naps, I did manage to get some needlepoint work done, viewed a few of the recorded Breaking Bad Marathon episodes, even stayed awake long enough to watch the United States of America vs. Whitey Bulger docudrama last night before falling into bed, sleeping through the night.

I blame bingo.

Engaging in that activity for 2-1/2 hours drained me; but all that sleeping was just what I needed to recharge and be ready to face another week.

That Whitey docudrama was enlightening. It brought out information not formerly disclosed.

From what I’ve gleaned about the life and times of Whitey Bulger over the years, he struck me as a straight shooter. A bad guy for sure, a cold blooded brutal psychopathic killer yes, but honest about who and what he was. So, it doesn't make a lot of sense he'd lie about being an informant. More likely, as the docudrama inferred, the accusation is a smoke screen to cover misconduct by those tasked to protect/serve.

Not that any of that matters in the grand scheme of things now, other than to demonstrate what people in high places, and people in general, will do to protect and serve their own self-interest.

So, anyway, during two of the moments I was awake over the weekend, I did see Karen out and about — once with her cat and once alone.

She was without her cane as she foraged in the grass AND she extended her foraging area to pretty much cover the entire grassy knoll.

She even walked down my walkway, out of sight, after which I lost interest in whatever she was up to.

A few days ago, I saw what looked like mushrooms growing on the property.

I’ll have to remember to check to see if they’re still there or if, when she walked out of sight, she spotted them and foraged them as well — though I can’t imagine they’re safe to eat.

Today was a workout, yet another nap, and carrot dogs for dinner — except instead of making myself a little queasy with gluten free bread, I wrapped them in a corn tortilla.

After adding catsup, mustard, salsa, slaw and tomatoes, the slightly warmed up tortilla held up very well.

I could have cut off those naughty looking ends poking out for the photo, but oh well.

If we ever go back to having barbeques here at the complex, this is what I’ll be bringing for myself and maybe a few extras carrots for those who want to try in their hot dog buns.

Are any of you watching Spring Baking Championship?

If so, what do you think of their bringing Carolyn back?

She was favored to win, but went home fair and square on a failed cookie salad.

Their bringing her back, saying the other bakers had no problem with it is bull crap — like what choice did the other bakers have but to swallow it and smile for the camera.

The whole thing is sketchy.

No surprise as to who’s going to win the competition.

Interesting enough, I posted a comment on their Instagram saying how sketch bringing Carolyn back is.

They removed it.

I wonder how many others have commented such and had their comment removed.

I’m off to see what Twitter has to say about it.

Easter Sunday

That is all.

BINGO!

Sitting through ten games of regular bingo, ending with an eleventh — a Blackout game (covering the entire card), a 2-1/2 hour adventure, turned out to be more exhausting than scrubbing tiles and shampooing the carpet.

The fact that I was the second person to win — call out “BINGO”, didn’t lessen the pain of it all.

Prizes were Easter baskets filled with candies and various useful items.

I chose the basket containing a loofa, moisturizer, socks, lady shaver, and a salon quality cushion brush.

Inasmuch as the only candy my gut will somewhat tolerate is See’s, and only two or three particular types of See’s candies, I gave all the candy in the basket to Talker to give to her granddaughter.

If I'd seen the hair brush at the time, I'd have given that to her as well, because it's not something I can use and will end up tossing.

Attendance was good. There were residents at every table, about 20 or so and, for one reason or another, only four of us were wearing masks. So, in a day or so if I feel funny, I’ll be using one of those test kits the government sent.

My former friend The Seer was in attendance … without the resident who previously followed her around like a little lapdog — the guy referred to in the blog as Shadow.

The Seer once again gave me that woeful look like she wanted to be friendly; but too late now, so I chilled.

As mentioned elsewhere in the blog, the Seer changed, went to the dark side when she hooked up with Shadow. She became bitter, overly sensitive ─ imagining slights where none were intended, critical and resentful of others and sometimey .... as in, sometimes she’d speak, sometimes she’d turn up her nose and ignore me, sometimes she’d cut her eyes and give me the mad dog treatment, and not just me, but all her former friends.

We’d been such good friends for such a long time that I ignored the behavior, gave her plenty of chances to cut it out until she used up all her chances and I just no longer paid attention to or even acknowledged her presence.

I never learned if Shadow broke up with her or if she broke up with him but, towards the end, I did see him hiding from her.

He'd been sitting out front having a smoke, in a location kinda towards the edge of the property where he couldn't be easily seen from the gate on his and her side of the property. When I saw the Seer come through the gate opposite to their side of the complex, I put two and two together and came to the conclusion she'd walked all the way around looking for him.

When he saw her see him, coming towards him, he looked seriously displeased and began waving his hands in a go away manner.

After that, he moved his smoking spot to further down the street, by the bus stop, where he couldn't be seen from either gate. So, it looks like he broke up with her. They now avoid each other like the plague, and she appears to be lonely for the old friends she can't win back.

In fact, she was seated at the big table with one of the meaner more unpopular residents.

Being seated at the big table I took as an invitation for others to join them, but none did. We all chose small 4-person tables elsewhere in the room.

Some relationship damage cannot be undone.

So anyway, there was a break in the 2-1/2 hours and food was served (egg salad sandwiches, chips, sodas, fruit salad, cupcakes baked by The Baker), none of which I could partake of, but yet and still ….. 2-1/2 friggin hours was exhausting.

A resident that none of us had seen before showed up for bingo and it was funny how many called the Talker over to their table and whispered "Is that her?"

The "her" they were asking about is that Karen character. Evidently, many have heard of the Karen, but few have actually seen her, want to see her and were curious if the mysterious woman who’d shown up was she.

It wasn’t she, but I did get some quite interesting tea about what Karen has been up to.

After all that hoopla about calling the cops on Talker for making too much noise, Corporate getting involved, Karen made yet another complaint — saying that Talker was disturbing her peace by exercising at 3:30 in the morning.

That’s the same hour, the girl downstairs complained to management that I was disturbing her peace "bouncing a ball" .... 3:30 a.m. So I laughed and said to Talker, "Sounds like they went to the same school of crazy".

Inasmuch as Talker had replied to the accusation same as I did, that "The only thing I’m doing at 3:30 is sleeping", and because it was an illogical accusation, Karen was told that if she made one more complaint she’d have to move.

Not relocate to another unit, but move out of the community.

That seems to have tamed the Karen beast but, what she does now is a number of weird things. One is she listens for when Talker comes down the stairs. Comes outside and says things like, "I just saw your blonde friend go by".

She’s talking about Jan, the pained rock lady. Who, btw, was present at bingo, and is not doing well, not at all.

At any rate, as for what Karen seeing Jan go by has to do with anything, the Talker doesn’t know.

Talker also doesn’t know what was meant by, one of those times Karen came out when she heard Talker coming down the stairs and said, "You might think of moving".

Is that some kind of threat?

For a while there, Jan was back to painting rocks and had placed a few in the patch of dirt in front of Karen’s unit — one saying "Love thy neighbor" another "Be kind", and a few Easter themed rocks.

Talker came downstairs and, of course, Karen — hearing her coming down, had stepped outside, whereupon the Talker noticed all the rocks were gone.

"What happened to the rocks" she asked Karen.

"I saw some woman take them" she said.

Talker said to me, "I knew she was lying, so we watched her and, sure enough, she retrieved them from where she’d hidden them and we saw her put ‘em back".

Last bit of tea I got was that Karen had been continuing to follow and spy on Talker (that's probably why she steps outside every time she hears Talker come out. So, she can follow her).

Well, one day Red Light happened to catch her following Talker, walked up to her, got in her face and said, "Stop following my friend. Get back in your unit. Leave my friend alone!"

Karen turned around and hightailed it back.

Talker thinks Karen is afraid of Red Light.

Probably has never had anyone get in her face, confront her before.

Good to know that’s all it takes. Too bad Talker can’t do it for herself.

I’ll leave you with a photo of us winners — those of us who scored bingo and got to choose a basket.

Woman seated on the right, in the bunny hat won twice — two baskets.

Here's a closeup of the cute bunny hat, which (photo) she allowed me to take.

Woman seated on the left is the one residents thought might be the infamous Karen, but is not. She won the Blackout Game, went home with the big basket.

Clean Freak

Yesterday was cra cra.

After that morning’s workout, I returned to the unit with plans to do a final sweep of the somewhat improved kitchen tile with the steamer but then, before I did, decided I had energy enough, the weather was warm enough and it would behoove me to first clean the carpets.

After the first pass with the carpet cleaner, I went to dispose of dirty water in the sink. Lo and Behold, there wasn’t any. The dirty water tank was dry.

So, where did the water go you ask.

Soaked into the carpet it was. The cleaner was just dumping clean water into the carpet as I went along.

Now left with a carpet full of water, not wanting it to turn into mildew, not being able to figure out what the problem with the cleaner was, and needing it fixed ASAP, instead of heading to the repair shop, I headed to a big box store, purchased a new cleaner.

Crisis averted as the new Bissell Turboclean is lighter than the Hoover Power Scrub, after-care cleaning is easier and it not only did a fine job of cleaning, but also sucked up the excess water.

Bone weary and totally exhausted by the end of it all, with a step count of 6,947 — close to 3.50 miles, it was a nice Epsom salt soak in the tub last night.

I admit to being somewhat of a clean freak.

After I had to move out of the senior unit I'd previously lived in (moved out and relocated to keep a relative from ending up homeless) management, while doing a walkthrough of the unit asked, "How long have you lived here?"

"Seven years" was my reply.

To which management said it was hard to believe, inasmuch as the unit was so well-maintained.

I've run into people with the attitude of not maintaining their living space because, "It's not mine, it's the landlord's problem" or, like my original next door neighbor, Debbie — perfectly nice woman, perfectly sane, they just don't care about living in filth.

The walls of Debbie's unit were black from her smoking, the carpets so filled with dirt and dog mess that you couldn't even tell what color it originally was and, when she opened her door, an odor would waft out that I could smell when my door was closed.

Debbie would actually entertain with her unit in that condition. She had a boyfriend who'd regularly visit and a prayer group.

When she suddenly passed away, management had to gut the entire unit. Not only rip out the carpet, but replace counter tops and cabinetry, much like they probably had to do with Bird Man's unit.

In my thinking, a well-maintained living space is good chi, keeps the flow of positive energy flowing but, what with all the recurring effort I have to put in to keep the chi flowing in my little unit, I don’t know how you people in houses manage. Plus, you have yards to maintain.

Waking up this morning ready to seize the day, it was another Epsom soak, followed by that last steamer pass — and not a minute too soon, as the scrubber nozzle on the Wagner Power Steamer conked out.

I’ll try getting a replacement before considering a new steamer, but it may be a clean sweep (see what I did there) insofar as cleaning equipment. In addition to the new carpet cleaner, a new vacuum and steamer may be in my future.

Thinking back on that bug dream, interpreted to mean "Unpleasant conditions will arise in your daily life", I wonder if this is it …. aggravations caused by cleaning equipment conking out. If so, out of all the things it could have been, I’m okay with these little bugs.

So, anyway, everything done for the time being, equipment put away, I am free to focus on this afternoon’s Bingo game.

Before I sign off for the day, if you’re wondering about the pineapple upside down cake — brown rice flour absolutely did work as the base for the cake. What didn’t work out with the amount of sugar involved. I’ve been off sugar for years and years and years, so the brown sugar topping and cane sugar in the batter made the cake cloyingly sweet. Sugar absolutely killed the pineapple flavor.

Now that I know my gut will accept brown rice flour, next time I have a craving, I’ll try the recipe again, but cut down on the sugar. Maybe even substitute stevia for cane in the batter.

And yes, I did check doneness by listening for a sizzle.