Sunday, February 16, 2025

Out and About


Snow on the surrounding mountains made for a cold yesterday, but it was a dry day, the sun was shinning, so I headed out of the area to replenish my needlepoint floss stash.

I’ve been getting low on colors needed to complete the never-ending needlepoint project — a project now 3 years, 3,350 hours into the making with no end in sight, and couldn’t run to one of the local craft stores (Michaels or JoAnn’s) because they’d both surprisingly gone out of business.

The only craft store still in business, a few cities over but within driving distance, is the craft store with the mission "to honor God by operating in a way that follows Biblical principles". Translation: racist, homophobic, rethuglican Orange Menace supportive.

It’s the only game in town, so I drove over, got the colors needed, made it out alive.

Heading back to the car, hearing music and seeing the top of white tents off in the distance, I suddenly remembered this is the area where there’s a Farmer’s Market on Saturdays.


Sprouts has no eggs available to sell, none, not a one, and store management can't say when the shortage will end.


No such shortage at this farmer's market.


The 18-count at $17 comes to $0.67 per egg but one doesn't know where these eggs come from, what conditions the chicken that laid the eggs are being kept in, what feed they've been given.

The 12-count is $1 per egg, but same problem with not knowing whether the eggs will make one ill.

Plus, I don't care for diversity inclusion equity in my eggs ... prefer all brown or all white, not a mixture of the two.

These are supposedly Organic, but who knows, and I can't make out the price.


At any rate, I still have a few Eggland's Best Organic (12 count at $8.79 comes to something like $0.73 per egg), so looks like I'm getting the best and safest deal at my local supermarket ..... for now.

No thanks!

Empanadas and Oxtails WTF

I probably have food issues today due to what I ate as a child, because my mom was from the country, cooked slave food country like her mom, and I didn't know any better .... thought it was normal to eat, what I now see as horrendous concoctions, like brains and eggs for breakfast, oxtails, chitlins, hog head cheese.

The fact that I've not continued that tradition, have not eaten that way, may be why I, the oldest of my mother's children, am still alive while everyone else .... brothers, sister, all died long ago.

And p.s. ... I never fed my children any of that goop, but others seemed to enjoy it as the line was long for either the Empanadas, the Oxtails or both, so whatever.

The Farmer's Market was a good place to recharge — put in some walking steps, breath in fresh air, get some sunshine, listen to music.


It was a nice afternoon. Too bad the day did not end as well .....


Yep! We had another quake, but at least it was tiny one.

Saturday, February 15, 2025

Bingo Friday

Yesterday was Bingo Friday, and I can’t tell you how good it felt to not have to rush down to the Community Room after the morning’s workout, hang with the old people.

According to the flyer the Baker had me put together, bingo included a "Special Treat for Valentine’s Day" …… "Probably strawberry shortcake" is what she told me.

However, looking at the photos the Talker sent for me to post to the group’s Facebook page, it doesn’t look like strawberry shortcake happened.

It actually looked like there was no special treat, period. Then, in the corner of one of the photos, I saw what looked like the edge of a container of cupcakes, iced pink for Valentine’s Day.


Can’t tell if the cupcakes are baked or store bought but, when the Baker bakes, she usually displays on a cupcake stand, not in a container. So my guess is store bought.

When last I saw the Baker, she’d looked worried. She’d been placed in that difficult position of having to tell her friend (Red Light) that, because one of the usual bingo suspects had a problem with Red Light attending bingo as a non-resident, that she (the Baker) was going to have to hurt her friend’s feelings, tell Red Light she could no longer attend.

Since then, the Baker has had to deal with Red Light’s Facebook meltdown and harassing phone calls.

Looking at the pictures of the Baker at yesterday’s bingo, she does not look well. You can tell something is weighing her down.

It’s not a stretch to assume no strawberry shortcake and store bought instead of baked is because the Baker just doesn’t have it in her right now to do more than the basics.

Last week’s lousy weather didn’t help anyone’s energy — first three earthquakes, followed by drab dreary days and then non-stop rain with constant flash flood warnings Wednesday and Thursday.

Friday was a dry day for us, but still drab/dreary and, from the photos, it appears not many were in the mood as attendance looked to be down.

All in all, I’m glad to be out of the bingo scene.

This was also the first bingo where Red Light was not in attendance.

No surprise there because, after her Facebook posts, the harassing telephone calls by she and her son, she can never show her face around here again.

In fact, I’d not be surprised to learn not only has she now been officially banned by Management, but that Manager has taken out a restraining order because Red Light yesterday did something I never thought she’d do …… she scrubbed her Facebook page of the three libelous and poor pitiful feel sorry for me posts, wherein she’d named those she felt had wronged her.

It’s giving too much credit to think she deleted the posts because she’d come to her senses. Nope. Not her style. More like something of a legal nature has occurred, which may be another reason why the Baker is walking around with an even heavier heart — she had to hurt her former friend’s feelings again by doing something she didn’t want to do but had no choice in order to stop the harassment.

The Baker did say her Deputy Sheriff son-in-law was looking into what could be done to stop Red Light and her son. So, for Red Light to retract her posts, something significant has happened …… someone of authority has contacted her, or she has been served with a restraining order.

Sooner or later, the Grapevine will get around to letting me know which it was.

Friday, February 14, 2025

Valentine's Day

Love is once again in the air.

Thank the Lord, I've been vaxxed and boosted.


Wednesday, February 12, 2025

Who Wants to Tell Her?

Popping into the market, after this morning’s workout, I ran into Next Door Neighbor.

We chatted for a bit about how we were going to survive, where we were going to live, when Elon takes away social security.

I said I’d probably be living in my car.

She said it would probably be the same for her.

We were both laughing, making jokes, but the humor was only to keep from crying …… if you know what I mean.

We moved on to the topic of the three earthquakes we’d experienced, her saying that, like myself, she’d been in bed the night the third earthquake hit.

Unlike me, who stayed in bed, she said she gotten up, run into the bathroom, sat in the tub until she felt it was safe.

I never left the comfort of my bed. Of course, I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I browsed TikTok until I felt sleepy again …… three or more hours later.

Heading back to the complex, I pondered the idea of the bathtub being a safe place to seek shelter in an earthquake.

Going over it in my head, it seemed to me that should the building come down, the floor give away, I’d have the mattress at my back, nice soft pillows and quilts surrounding me; whereas, if the floor gave away and the tub fell, broke into pieces, the sharp edges of the tub's broken bits and pieces could be injurious.

Arriving back at the complex, I posed the question to Google …… "Is getting in the bathtub during an earthquake better than staying in bed?"

Google answered …… "No, generally staying in bed and covering your head with a pillow is considered safer than getting into the bathtub during an earthquake; the primary reason being that the bathtub offers little added protection from falling debris while getting out of bed could expose you to further danger during the shaking …… If you are in bed when an earthquake hits, stay there, lie face down, and cover your head and neck with a pillow".

Who wants to tell Next Door Neighbor?

Not me.

Now disturbed by thoughts of Elon still in my head, I decided to do something about it.

I had cotton fabric, freezer paper, ironed the two together to make paper I could run through the printer.

I found an image I could work with, printed the image onto the fabric side, pulled away the freezer paper.


Now having an image on fabric, I cut around the image, fit cotton fabric as a backing, pulled out my sewing machine and VOILĂ€ …… a voodoo doll.


Stuffed and edges completely sewn together, pins in his vacuous eyes, a pin straight through his cold dead heart, and he was ready to join his sidekick.



I feel better now.

Tuesday, February 11, 2025

Ominous

That’s the word for how this week has started out ……… Ominous.

Yesterday was shake, rattle, roll with not one, not two, but three earthquakes.




Ominous.

Ain't no sunshine today. Outside is cold, dark, gloomy.

Ominous.

It’s only Tuesday, and I’m waiting for the other shoe to fall.

Sunday, February 9, 2025

One of These Things is Not Like the Other

It wasn’t until I returned from running errands on Saturday, and kicked off my shoes, that I noticed something was wrong with the outfit I’d been out and about in that day.

Do you see it?


Hopefully my bright red lipstick detracted folks from looking down at my footwear.

These senior moments are coming more frequently. I had two such moments on Saturday. First was wearing mismatched shoes then, later that day, I found myself searching the unit for my keys, with no success. Something told me to check the front door.

Sure enough, there they were, just waiting for someone to come along, enter while I’m asleep, pillage and plunder or drive off with the Jeep or both.


I guess the lesson that day was to slow my thinking down, pay attention to what I’m doing, stay in the moment.

Linda in Kansas aka DrumMajor was interested in the recipe I used a few days ago for Mini Monkey Bread which, unlike the last time I tried to make Monkey Bread, was a success.

That last time was back in 2015, when I followed the Pioneer Woman’s recipe to take Pull Apart Monkey Bread as my dish for the Valentine’s Day Potluck.

It was an epic fail — the dish came out soggy, not cooked all the way through, so I was forced to contribute Girl Scout Cookies to the potluck instead.

Since then, with my food allergies — which have plagued me since age 18, becoming increasingly worse to where my system can now not tolerate whole wheat and high-fiber flours, Monkey Bread has been off the menu. That is, until I recently came across a recipe for Monkey Bread made with white rice flour.

I gave it a try, but instead of baking in a bundt or loaf pan, as the Frugal Farm Wife’s recipe calls for, I made Minis by baking in a cupcake pan.

Into the muffin tins I dropped teaspoons of dough, followed by drops of filling and continued layering dough/filling until dough and filling were depleted.




Soft on the inside, with pockets of filling throughout, sugary and crispy on the outside, snackalicious with a cup of coffee.

Around 5:00 today, about the time I figured Kendrick Lamar would be performing at the Superbowl, I quickly switched channels, checked in to see if it was Halftime yet.

It wasn’t, but I did see the score and it looked like the Chiefs were getting their arses kicked.

I tuned in about 45 minutes later, just in time to catch the Halftime Show, which was great — I liked the red, white, blue theme, could have done without Samuel L. Jackson, and I’m sure some of Kendrick's songs ruffled the correct feathers, not to mention the patriotic colors.

(I guess Kendrick did indeed ruffle feathers, because the pundits are saying "worst halftime ever". No, that would be Rihanna's snoozefest back in '23.)

According to the score I saw, before I went back to my regularly scheduled programs, the Chiefs were getting creamed.

Now flipping channels, seeing the game is over, and Kansas City was slaughtered, I’m wondering if Kelce would like to eat his words that it would be "pretty cool" and "a great honor" if the Orange Menace were in attendance, because it looks like the Menace brought the team bad luck, not to mention he doesn’t like what he calls "losers".

Friday, February 7, 2025

It’s Raining Men

It rained all night long and, when I awoke this morning, it was still pouring down.

I came thisclose to call off getting out into it for this morning’s workout; but then remembered the market had been out of frozen salmon when I shopped the other day, and that if I wanted salmon for dinner, it was best to just go ahead, workout, market after.

Crossing the market parking lot after working out, headed inside, I heard a friendly sounding voice say, "Hey, lady".

I turned to see who was speaking and saw it was Meat Man, whom I’ve not seen in ages on the complex.

"Meat Man" being formerly Handsome Man on the blog, until he’d approached Homegirl (whom can be described as a healthy woman ……… all boobs, hips, butt), and in a sleezy tone said to her, "I like meat" — referring to all the meat on her bones.

Homegirl cursed him out for the disrespectful way he approached her, and I changed his blog name to Meat Man because, to me, he looked a lot less handsome after that faux pas.

So, anyway, as I needed to get out of the rain, head into the market, and Meat Man needed to get out of the rain and into his car to leave, in response to his "Hey, Lady", I said "Oh hey neighbor. You staying out of trouble?"

He said something in return which I couldn’t make out, and that was that.

By the time I exited the market, the rain had let up enough, to where I didn’t even have to use my umbrella, and the sun was actually trying to come out.

It’s like that around here ……… a rainstorm and then, seconds later, the rain stops, sun comes out. So, it wasn’t surprising to see residents hanging around outside the gate — smoking, chatting, when I arrived back.

One chatting, not smoking, was the famous Hubba Hubba Awooga Silver Fox, whom I also had not seen in ages.

Readers might remember him as the resident — moved in August of 2023, that the women were all gaga about.

Described to me as mixed with First Nation Indian Blood and some other blood type, wore a ponytail, which blood mixture and ponytail made him "too handsome for words" and said to be "antisocial, mean, doesn’t like people knocking on his door".

I don’t care for people knocking on my door either; so, I didn’t put much weight into someone being antisocial or mean because of wanting to be left alone; and I later learned those smears were being made because he’d pissed some of the female residents off.

How did he piss the female residents off you ask.

Well, the thirsty women around here were bothering him — vying for his attention, knocking on his door ……… showing up with cakes, cookies, meals, asking questions about where he was from, what he does, and he’d ruffled their feathers by telling them to buzz off, that "I’m sick and tired of women always chasing me".

I later saw the Silver Fox around once or twice, waved as I always do to residents, whether I know them or not.

I don’t recall his being friendly in return, but to be expected as his expectation was all us women wanted him.

He need not have worried. Seeing him up close and personal, I thought he was nice looking compared to what else we have around here, but not all Hubba Hubba Awooga and not my type.

It wasn’t until manager’s meeting in September of last year, when I was seated away from the cluster of residents — for viral safety reasons, at the back of the room, when Silver Fox walked in, sat right next to me.

He introduced himself, we chatted a bit and, when the meeting was over, he began walking, chatting with me as we headed for our units.

Conversation ended when I reached my walkway with him saying, "It was nice to meet you, Shirley. I hope to see you again" in a way where I knew he was opening a door.

I was polite, but not encouraging. I did not walk through the door.

I’ve seen him once since then. He was driving in, yelled "Hello!" as I was crossing the parking lot. I said hello in return, but kept walking, didn’t look back to encourage him.

For those who don’t know, when us ladies smile and look back, that’s a yes, a green light signaling a male to come with what he's got.

So, there he was today, outside the gate talking to Big Friendly Guy.

I parked, got out of the car, picked up my workout bag, groceries and, just that quick, he’d ended his conversation with Big Friendly guy and was on the walkway, behind where I was parked.

"Hello, Shirley" said he.

Oh ……… he’s calling me by my name, opening that door again, thought I.

I know his name but chose, once again, to not walk through the door. I replied, "Hey, neighbor".

"How are you doing?", asked he.

"I’m okay, how about yourself?"

A little too far away, I couldn’t make out what he was saying, didn’t want to prolong things, or have him walk closer, by saying I can’t hear you. So, I just listened, made out what sounded like "wha wha wha wha wha wha wha, but I’m okay with it". To which, I smiled, nodded as though I understood and that was that.

So, it really did rain men this morning ……… at least two came out of the woodwork.

From the looks outside now, you’d never know it rained all night and most of the morning, as the sun is shining and outside is drying up.

BTW: While at the market, I noticed the organic Eggland’s Best were all sold out.

I’m now kicking myself for only buying a dozen, I should have purchased two dozen because a recipe I’m trying this afternoon for Mini Monkey Bread is calling for six egg whites.

This recipe, which I'm revising to substitute rice flour for regular flour and a stevia blend for brown sugar, had just better work out ……… not waste my precious eggs.

Wednesday, February 5, 2025

From My Mouth to God’s Ears

I’d just this morning, commented on Mike’s post, about eggs being the new gold, that I’d not been able to purchase organic eggs since first of the year.

Lo and behold, I pop into the market after today’s workout for eggs and Eggland’s Best Organic are back on the shelf.


The price of $9.99 is reasonable, and worth it to settle my stomach, as it suddenly occurred to me, after an entire month of Cage Free eggs, as Organic was not available, this might be why my gut has been giving me issues for an entire month.

Cage Free Eggs come from chickens not kept in cages, probably fed things my gut is allergic to, while Organic Eggs comes from chickens kept not in cages and fed organic feed.

And trust me …… my stomach knows when I’ve eaten something with an ingredient or substance that it’s allergic to, as a gut episode soon follows.

So, anyway, since today seemed to be from my mouth to God’s ears …… desires are being granted, let me say I’m still looking for that multi-million-dollar bingo win.

Detouring through the mailroom on my way back to my unit, I ran into the Baker.

She looked worried.

Asking if the bingo thing had calmed down, she said "No". That Red Light is still upset because the Baker won’t tell her who it was that made the complaint that got her kicked out of bingo.

Baker said, "I can’t tell her. I don’t want to cause trouble for someone else, so now her son is calling".

"OH! HE’S DANGEROUS", said I.

"Yes, I know", said she.

I didn’t ask how she found out the son is dangerous, but I found out when Red Light and Talker had that falling out that I mentioned in my February 1 post — the falling out that prompted Red Light’s first meltdown on Facebook.

The son had gotten involved, told Talker "I’ll throw you in the pool, put my foot on your neck, hold you down until you drown".

That seemed extreme, a little too Dexter Morgan, so Talker and I branded the son as dangerous to be thinking that way, talking that way.

I subsequently researched him online, to see if he was wanted for anything, but could find no info about him …… nothing at all.

So now, the son is on a mission to find out, for his mom, who it was that made the complaint.

Baker said the son is calling and harassing others his mom suspects of being the one …… residents not initially named in her Facebook meltdown.

I don’t answer my phone for numbers I don’t recognize. So, I checked my call list to see if any of the numbers I ignored looked like they could have come from the son.

Didn’t find anything other than out of state so, evidently, I’m not on Dexter’s and Ma Barker’s list.

Inasmuch as the son is considered dangerous, I asked Baker what she was going to do.

"One of my son-in-laws is a Deputy Sheriff. He’s going to look into what’s the best course to follow".

I'd like to see the look on Red Light's and her son's face when the cops show up.

I repeat …… all this over bingo.

Monday, February 3, 2025

A Day Without Immigrants

I was wondering why it was that, when I popped into the market after this morning’s workout, I didn’t recognize not a single worker. No baggers were on site and none of the cashiers I’m accustomed to seeing were working.

Except for the manager, the store was staffed by strangers.

It wasn’t until this afternoon, after Judge Judy and before I could change channels to avoid the news, that I saw the announcement of A Day Without Immigrants.

Ooooooh, everyone took off in solidarity, thought I.

With all this DEI stuff taking the joy out of it, I myself am not celebrating Black History Month. I’ve also closed my Target and Walmart accounts.

And let me take this moment to apologize to my Canadian friends for what the Orange Menace is doing insofar as using tariffs to harass your country.

I’m a little upset that Canada, not to mention Mexico and China are capitulating, entering into discussions with the Orange Menace to iron out a deal.

My astrological sign is Capricorn the Goat — stubborn, resistant. I’d rather do without than give in to a bully, and I can’t be the only one who’d be willing to do so. So, if you all want to say "stuff it" to the bully, refuse to deal with him, with us, we will find a way to live without what goods you provide if it hurts the Orange Menace.

So, while Rome is burning, Red Light — oblivious to the fact there are bigger issues than her hurt feelings, continues her campaign of …… I don’t know what her campaign is. What’s her end goal for posting what she posted?

Does she want us to feel so sorry for her that we give in and invite her back?

Ain’t gonna happen.

Is it she just wants to cause as much damage as she thinks she can to others?

There’s an old proverb, "He who digs a pit for others falls in himself".

The only damage being done is to herself.

Her posts have become a joke, a laughing matter due to the childish way she expresses herself.

She hasn’t posted anything new; however, she has been making telephone calls.

I’m guessing she knows that though I harbor no ill will towards her, I’m not the kind of person to play this nonsensical game, so there have been no calls to my phone looking for sympathy or venting her anger.

Baker said she stopped answering her phone when Red Light called, gave up trying to talk sense into her, so Red Light called and called and called and called until Baker had to block her.

Talker said she’d really like to talk to Red Light, tell her to think about what she’s doing, get her to calm down, but doesn’t feel now is the right time when Red Light is being so volatile. So, Talker also doesn’t answer when Red Light calls, but isn’t being bombarded like the Baker was.

I’ve no idea what Manager is going to do, but I bet Red Light’s behavior is going to set a precedent; that when we next have one of her meetings, she’ll tell us that once a resident moves out, it's "not okay" or safe for us to allow them back on the property to visit or engage in any of our activities.

Inasmuch as I don’t plan to hang out with the usual suspects at bingo, or any of the events listed on this month’s Activity Calendar, I doubt I’ll have anything more to report on the subject, unless someone catches me outside and fills me in.

Speaking of this month’s Activity Calendar ………… You might recall that, because we lost access to the calendar when it became only accessible through Rent CafĂ©, the Activity Director snuck a copy to Baker, who passed around to us.

Color me surprised when I found this month’s calendar in my email.

It came directly from Manager.

Has she seen the light and given up on Rent Café or did she just want to be in control of the calendar?

That’s why Manager and Red Light could never get along ……… both wanted control.

I’ve also learned that’s what irked the usual suspects about Red Light. Only one actively complained about and campaigned against her, but it’s being said more than one felt annoyed, because she was coming to bingo not as a visitor, but as though she was still running things.

And that’s the tea.

Saturday, February 1, 2025

Manure Has Hit the Fan

Logging into Facebook this morning, to update the month on the resident’s page from January to February and, whoa Nelly, there was Red Light with one of her cryptic memes which I recognized as the beginning of a meltdown.


If this indeed is heading for a meltdown, it would be her 2nd very public meltdown, thought I. The first was in March of 2023.

This is what Red Light does. It’s her passive aggressive way of trying to manipulate people into feeling sorry for her. Like, "Hey look at what’s happening. I’m a victim here".

Only this time, as Red Light transitioned into the meltdown I'd expected was coming, she went from cryptic memes to full on naming names.


I don't know who this Blair person is — no one living here insofar as I know; but, by naming "Beatrice", Red Light is pointing directly at the Baker, "Grace" the Other Wheelchair Lady and "Mari" the complex Manager.

I'm not sure who "Another Person" is but, surprisingly, she doesn't name Talker and thankfully kept my MF name out her MF mouth (see what I did there).

Seems like the Baker, stuck between that rock and hard place as to whether to stand by her friend Red Light or acquiesce to the resident that didn't want Red Light around, made the difficult decision that what the resident wanted took precedence.

Under the circumstances of Red Light no longer being a resident, I don't see that the Baker had any other choice, before the complaining resident took the complaint to Manager, but Red Light is obviously seeing it differently.


That last sentence was a nice try at throwing shade and doubt on the Baker, trying to cause the Baker to consider someone doesn't like her either.

If Manager learns of Red Light's postings, her name included (and she will learn because someone will snitch to her), there's going to be heck to pay. Manager will probably get Red Light's FB account shut down, may even shut down the Resident's page, as Red Light posted all that not only to her personal Facebook page but also to the Resident's page, just to make sure it was seen by multiple persons.

I have it that, though Red Light's new place in Yucaipa is nice, luxurious, near a great shopping center, restaurants, etc., with only 35 units and so much to do in the area, no one wants to do bingo or set up any kind of activity, get involved with neighbors. Seems, she gained a lot when she moved out March of last year, but she also lost a lot — the sense of community she seems to need.

If she was reaching the point of loneliness and boredom to where she wanted to move back here, she's blown that possibility and, since she's burning bridges, she now has no friends just to stop by and visit.

So, anyway, if anyone is looking for me today, you'll find me eating popcorn, watching Facebook to see what Red Light will post next.

Thursday, January 30, 2025

Timing is Everything

The more I thought about why Red Light would ask if my reason for dropping out of bingo was because of her, the more it occurred to me she just might have been fishing for information …… expected me to say no, it wasn’t her, it was someone else, so she could start drama.

Little did I know the drama had already begun. I just got caught up in it due to poor timing.

Heading out of the complex to run errands this morning, I parked in front of the office, ran in to drop off next month’s rent check, ran into the Baker.

Perfect timing.

After greeting her, I went straight into, "I got the strangest text from Rox (Red Light) asking if I was leaving bingo because of her. Why would she think that?"

The Baker began laughing, said "That was a strange thing to do, but let me tell you what happened earlier".

Baker said she’d been approached by another resident who said, "I can’t stand Rox. I just can’t get along with that woman and, since she’s no longer a resident, I don’t think she should be allowed to attend bingo".

Baker said that put her in a terrible position because, though the complaining resident has a valid point about Red Light not living here and technically should not be allowed to participate in resident activities, Red Light is her friend.

What the Baker decided to do was to call Red Light, tell her what had been said and leave it up to her to decide if she wanted to nevertheless continue to attend bingo.

She did.

Red Light attended the same day she found out someone did not want her there …… the same day I decided to announce I quit.

She put two and two together, thought I might be the complaining resident, sent that text.

I actually admire Red Light’s not folding like a cheap suit. The Baker wouldn’t tell her who the complainer is, so she’s on the hunt.

Now that I understood what's going on, and Baker being between a rock and a hard place as to whether to allow her friend Rox to continue to participate, I offered the following.

"You do a lot for these people, and they don’t seem to appreciate how much you do, how hard you work to give them fun activities. They take advantage of you. Rox has always helped you with all you do. So, if the person complaining is not doing anything to help you, and Rox is, then F_ck ‘em".

The Baker laughed again, and said "That’s the thing. The resident complaining is also helping me".

So, anyway, I don’t know what the Baker is going to do and, since I won’t be attending bingo in the future, I won’t know if Red Light shows up at bingo tomorrow, and the next and the next until things blow up and she can't.

One thing I do know is who the complaining resident is because, when the Baker said the complainer also helps her, that brought it down to two possibilities …… the Talker and the Other Wheelchair Lady.

The Other Wheelchair Lady — the resident who took offense to Di saying the F word, is known to be sometimey, but it’s a medication issue. Outside of flipping out, now and then because of meds, I know her to be friends with Red Light. There's always the possibility that's changed, but I doubt it.

My money is on Talker as the one who says she can’t get along with Red Light, and wants her to stop coming here.

I say this because, a few weeks ago, Di was upset because Talker was saying bad things about her, "trying to turn my friends against me", Di said.

When Di was telling me what Talker was saying/doing, I said "That doesn’t sound like her, doesn’t seem like something she’d do".

Now I’m thinking that, though I’ve never seen that part of Talker, she may actually be guilty of inflicting emotional damage on Di, maneuvering to get Red Light banned.

After all, this is the Feng Shui Year of the Snake. People we thought we knew are shedding their skins, showing a side of themselves we never knew was there — Snoop Dogg, Cary Underwood, Rascal Flatts to name a few. So, it’s not a stretch to surmise Talker is shedding her skin, showing a hurtful bully side.

At any rate, that’s the tea.

I have a sense that, at the rate things are going, bingo may end up shutting down altogether because, if Talker is successful at getting Red Light out, she herself will probably walk away, leaving the Baker on her own, with no one to help and Baker will have no choice but to shut down the whole thing.

Wednesday, January 29, 2025

That’s One

When I texted the Baker about bouncing out of bingo, Red Light happened to be in the Baker’s unit.

Red Light had earlier attended bingo and evidentially was hanging around Baker’s unit when my text came in.

I’d like to know what was discussed between the two of them, which prompted Red Light to text me yesterday asking if my reason for doing so was her …… that I didn’t want to come because she was attending.

Girl, please.

Super annoying that she'd think I care whether she, who relocated to a fancy luxury apartment some time ago, keeps coming back — continues to make her way over here to attend bingo, hang out.

In fact, it just recently crossed my mind, and puzzled me when I thought about how many residents I've seen move out and then, sometimes years later, put in an application. Some were successfull, moved back, others were denied.

Why return to the scene of the crime?

What's the appeal?

Are other senior living facilities that bad?

Just last week, I saw my Buddy Apache, bold as brass visiting a guy friend on the property, in violation of the restraining order management took out on him; and he was doing so during daylight hours when staff was still around to spot him.

I wanted to go down and say hey, but I was inappropriately dressed at the time.

It was just the week before when I spied Bicycle Boy lurking in the area.

People just keep coming back so, to me, Red Light is just one of many.

At any rate, That’s one, thought I to myself when Red Light texted for an explanation.

Actually, that's two because Baker also initially sought an explanation …… did someone say something to upset me.

Thinking Red Light’s question, about she being the reason, was too ridiculous to warrant a response, I brushed it off, didn’t respond.

Then today, I got to thinking …… Red Light is good at getting everyone’s personal business circulating on the grapevine. If I give her an explanation, she’ll be sure to spread it around, save the need for others to seek me out for an explanation.

So, I replied, "I like doing the flyers and web page. It's just that I don't enjoy sitting playing bingo as much as you others do and just don't want to do that part any longer".

Hopefully, that’s the end of it, but I doubt it.

In other news, I saw one of those Nazi Trucks when I was out and about yesterday.


It appeared to be undamaged, but I bet the driver is worried because folks are taking their frustrations at the maker out on the owners — Tesla’s and Nazi Trucks are being keyed, damaged with graffiti spray paint.

It’s not right, but I understand.

Sunday, January 26, 2025

Where’s George?

It’s a freezing cold and rainy day here in the Inland Empire, but no complaints because the power is on.

Fortunately, when I was out and about yesterday, I stopped by the market. Didn’t get much, basically shopping for two days at a time these days, as I’m still not ready to trust the power to stay on.

Any rate, I’m not so desperate for anything that I have to head out in the rain today, but tomorrow is a workout day and who knows what we’re in store for.

So, snug as a bug in a rug today, I’m avoiding depressing news, catching up on recorded TV programs and working on that never ending needlepoint project.

Please tell me I’m not the only one to remember how, back in the day, we’d track dollar bills by serial number, as the bills circulated across the country through a site called Where’s George.

If this doesn't sound familiar to you .... In the late 90s early 2000s, when the internet was fairly new, Where's George was a game that involved dollars stamped with the message "currency tracking project/track me at WheresGeorge".

If and when one of those stamped bills came into our possession, we’d go to Where’s George, check to see if the serial number on the bill was listed and, if listed, we’d input where in the country we’d found it, then send it back into circulation to travel elsewhere, be found by someone else.

It was just a fun thing to see how far the bill would travel.

Although the game started with tracking the trail of dollar bills with the specific message "currency tracking project/track me at WheresGeorge", it caught on and people began writing other messages on the bills — none of which I can recall, except it became something like the message in a bottle craze.

Thinking back, I'm not at all certain it was legal to write on/deface money, but it was done.

Looks like it's still being done because, when I went to pull cash out of my fanny pack to pay for groceries yesterday, I found a bill with a message.

We love you Mac

It's a $20, rather than a $1 bill, but I nevertheless looked for the old Where's George site, found it's still up.

Not only is the site still up, it appears to be active with stats showing where and under what circumstances the bills listed came into the finder’s possession, like "I got it the Brookdale Dollar General, Got in a McDonald’s as change, A gift for a holiday in a card, Arcade Bar in Lincoln Nebraska, Received in change at a gas station in Vermont", so on and so forth.

So, anyway, the $20 I’d gotten as change somewhere in my goings was, of course, not listed as only $1 bills are, but Where’s George looks like a fun thing to bring back in these troubling times.

Maybe I should log in my $1 bills, write on them messages — such as "Have faith" …… "This too shall pass" and other such messages of hope, send into circulation with instructions to "track me at WheresGeorge", see where they land.

As for whoever this Mac guy is, my guess is he's not worthy because, if someone had written such a message to me, I'd have treasured the bill, framed it even.