First Day of Christmas

On this, the First Day of Christmas, I saw what I took to be a new tenant preparing to move into the unit vacated by the Smoker, won two back to back bingo games, and got Meat Man’s last name, so I can research whether he’s still living here or not.

On the way to bingo, after this morning’s workout, I saw Assistant Maintenance Man showing a woman the vacant unit.

Heading back to my unit after bingo, I saw the same woman returning to the unit alone, use keys to enter, so I expect furniture to follow and hopefully some Christmas decorations on the patio to add to the festive look of the quad, as only three of us in the quad have decorated.

After a long dry spell of coming close but not winning, I won the 5th and 6th bingo games.

First win, from the prize table I chose a wall décor thingie with a little plastic mirror in the center.

Not my aesthetics, but just what I need to make an Ugly Sweater for the residents’ December 15th Christmas Party’s Ugly Sweater Contest.

The plan is to attach the mirror, maybe the entire thing because it's lightweight, to the middle of an old green shirt, decorate on or around it.

What’s ugly will be revealed when folks look into the mirror see their own reflection.

Based on how few got it when I dressed as Wednesday Addams for the Halloween Costume Contest, I doubt few will grasp the concept, but oh well.

Second win, I choose a cute little coffee cup shaped clock.

Shades of Flavor Flav, the rapper/hype man, that wears big clocks on chains around his neck, and whose catchphrase is "Yeah Boyyyy".

On the way back to my unit, it occurred to me that the Call Box, which allows visitors to make contact with residents by name and Unit No., so they can be let into the gate, might be a source of Meat Man’s last name.

It was, except the fact that his name is still in the Call Box leads me to believe he is still the occupant of the unit associated with his name.

On the other hand, the unit could very well be vacant and the office has not yet removed his name and will not update the Call Box until a new name is associated with that unit.

I’ll have to check back periodically.

Lastly, that same morning I posted a time will tell update on my old buddy Apache, a resident who evidently is still friends with Apache approached, as I was detouring to pick up mail on the way back from that morning’s workout, and said "I just talked to ___. He told me to say hello".

Let’s call this resident "Elvis", because he does a good dance impersonation.

"OMG! I was just thinking about ____. How is he doing?" asked I.

"Not good" was his answer.

My mind immediately went to that ugly rumor about Apache "using ……… tracks on his arm", but it wasn’t that.

Some time ago, while still living here, Apache had an operation on one of his eyes. I don’t recall why the operation, but all this time later the eye is now not doing well.

Asking if Apache is being cared for, I’m told he has a caregiver, but the caregiver is ill, Apache is "all alone".

I was thisclose to letting sympathetic take over, giving the resident my telephone number to give to Apache, but wisely didn’t, even though Apache had asked for my number the few times I’d run into him after he was evicted from the property.

Back when Apache did have my number, he lost or misplaced or let someone use his phone, on more than one occasion, which resulted in problems for those of us on his contacts list. So thereafter, when Apache asked for my number, I hemmed and hawed my way out of it.

I’ve also learned my lesson about getting involved, helping others, only to find myself used, disrespected, stuck with responsibilities so, though sorry to hear Apache was alone and not doing well, I told Elvis to "Tell him I’ll pray for him".

Apache has three sisters with whom he’s close, and at least one nephew I know he’s close to.

"Alone", I don’t think so. He’s got a better support system than I do.