Stolen Land Eve

While the majority are planning for tomorrow’s feast, having finished conceptualizing covers for Twin 1’s bathroom accessory, my plan for tomorrow is to shampoo the carpets.

Can’t say that I’m happy with the second stab I made at making a cover, but soooooo over the project, I kinda hastily stitched up a teepee like cover, with an open flap that can be closed, just to be done with it.

It’s a lot more functional than the tube cover, but I don’t like it, am not proud of the finished product. However, so totally over this project, I just no longer care. Don’t even understand the need for a cover.

Talking to Twin 1 on the phone last night, where she said she'd just finished handing out 200 turkeys donated to her organization, I explained my reservations that Cover 1 would drive her nuts with the necessity to lift off/place back on, might not fit, and that Cover 2 was not to my liking.

She said she’d searched Etsy (online craft central for anything and everything), couldn’t find a cover, turned to me.

I appreciate that she had faith in my abilities to come up with something, but told her there’s a reason she couldn’t find a cover on Etsy. Reason being people don’t usually cover their standing holders.

After having read Tundra Bunny’s comment about his "metal giraffe", I looked that accessory up, saw how cute it is, how it would suit Twin 1’s Afrocentric ascetics, so I suggested she just replace what she has with a giraffe for TP and another for Paper Towels.

So, we’ll see how it goes — if she tests out my creations or purchases anew; but, however it goes, I’m done, over and out.

Through the patio window yesterday, I caught a glimpse of little Knock Knock on the walkway.

Is school out?

She’s older, more reserved, so I don’t expect she’ll be constantly knocking on my door; but, if she catches me outside, she will run up/give me a hug.

Next Door Neighbor knocked on the door yesterday to see if I was still alive, since she’d not heard or seen me coming/going for a while.

Things are all up in the air with her looking to move to a downstairs unit, due to a planned surgery that would have rendered her incapable of climbing stairs; and last we spoke, both the move and the surgery were on hold due to a new even worse medical diagnosis.

Inviting her in to view the finished 4 Years 4 Months 3,391 Hours artwork, she oohed aahed then asked if I’d had offers to buy it.

After saying I had no intention of working that hard for that long just to sell it, and further that family would be upset if I sold, that I expected they’d fight over it after I’m gone, I began thinking how weird that her mind somehow always thinks dollars/cents, the monetary value of things.

My mind went back to the time she was in my unit for something or other, how her eyes had roamed that time as well; she looked at various figurines, said "That’s probably worth money".

Who thinks that way?

As I was pondering that thought, her eyes began to take the room in. She asked about the cover on the yoga mat.

It was covered. How did she know there was a yoga mat under it?

Then it was, "Is that a sewing machine?"

It too was covered.

Then, "Is that a carpet shampooer?"

Damn lady.

She'd better not ask to borrow it.

Just before she moved to leave, it was "What’s that on the floor?"

It was my walking pad.

Inspecting and observing more than even the State Inspector did, I’m surprised she didn’t check the bathroom and the bedroom.

Weird, just weird.