Thanksgiving Road Trip

Noticing at least one neighbor has already set up her Christmas Patio display was all I needed to take time away from working on the baby quilt, time away from preparing to head out tomorrow, to get started on my decorations.

Not wanting to wear myself out, I limited my activities to stringing lights on the patio, putting out the Christmas doormat and wreath. The outdoor tree and lighted gift boxes can wait until I return on Friday. If I'm tired from the drive, it won't happen until Saturday.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving, Turkey Day, Stolen Land Day, however you call it.

Maybe I’m Wrong But

Heading out yesterday afternoon to check on a cat that’s been stuck in a tree since Thursday, I ran into The Baker.

“We’re having the Holiday Cooking Decorating on the 18th”, said she. “Only I told C_____ (Activity Director) she’d have to do it this year”.

I suppose she’s turning her personal event over to management because of the bruhaha over her dog Fancy.

In support of The Baker, I had no plans to be involved in any activity she’s not involved in because it upsets me that management has hurt her, but it appears she’s not opting out but scaling back in contributions to this community ─ the let management do it school of revenge.

I can dig it.

At any rate, each year the Baker has been organizing a Cookie Swap AND baking most of the cookies involved in the swap herself. Last year’s Cookie Swap included Cookie Decorating, which I was disappointed because I thought we’d be decorating those pre-made sweater cookies. Instead, it was round cookies baked by The Baker.

Not wanting to be disappointed again this year, I told The Baker I’d pick up a couple pre-made cookie kits and extra icings.

She in turn said she also supply icings. “In a tube?” asked I. “No, in a can”.

Well that’s not going to work well for decorating, but whatever.

THEN, later in the afternoon, management posted this months Activity Calendar to our doors, which indicated Holiday Cookie Decorating Social on the 18th, Holiday Potluck on the 19th.

And we’re back to potlucks, thought I.

What happened to the annual Christmas Party ... music, residents dressing up, gifts etc?

What happened to the Ugly Sweater event?

Cost-cutting at its finest.

THEN, I saw this blurb.

Maybe I’m wrong, but I think it tacky to invite folks to a cookie decorating event expecting them to bring their own cookies.

Why would they purchase or bake their own cookies then come down to the Community Room to decorate?

Doesn’t make sense.

It's not a swap, where one would bring her own cookies to exchange, but a decorating event.

I’m expecting a complete and utter failure of an event, just like Karaoke, with the Activity Director sitting alone.

Not looking forward to it, so I’ll drop off one or two kits to The Baker, because I said I would, and she can give to her great grandkids to decorate if no residents show up but, done with tacky, I’m out.

Also out is that poor cat.

Apache heard it mewing for help and spotted it high up in that tree on Thursday.

The Fire Department was unsympathetic and told Apache to get a ladder.

The cat was too high up for that, and Apache is a senior. It would have been suicide.

I suggested Animal Control and, the cat still in the tree the next day, assumed they’d also said no.

By yesterday, fearing the cold weather, no food, no water, the cat was going to die a slow death, I researched organizations in the area, thinking there must be someone in the business of rescuing cats from trees.

I did find some states do have people performing that service, but not anyone near us.

I then got on the phone and called the Vet up the street to ask if maybe they knew someone we could pay to get the cat from the tree.

After listening to a long message only to be referred to Animal Control, I got frustrated and gave up, as did the cat. Along about 7:00 last night, I got a text from Apache, “We got kitty down”.

“How”, asked I.

“He was coming down hungry. S___ got step ladder, reached him”.

No news on my little Renegade, so looks like the dealership won’t get her back to me until sometime next week.

Today, is December PokémonGo Community Day, so I’m going to bundle up from the cold and head out to the University to take advantage of today’s bonuses.

Early Bird Catches the Shadow

Experiencing a sudden burst of energy Saturday, I decided to brave the mall to put in some walking miles and pick up an in-store delivery I knew had to have arrived, even though I never received a pick-up notice.

Got it!

Wonder Woman leggings for next year’s 5K.

Items like this are rare and go quick so, even though I’m looking ahead an entire year ─ and who knows what can happen in a year, I couldn’t afford to let the opportunity to add to my costume go by.

Walking in the mall the day after the day after Thanksgiving wasn’t too bad. I did have to dodge dawdlers, and slowed down a couple times to take photos of interesting observations.

If we have an Ugly Sweater Contest, and IF I decide to participate (I’m fed up with winning due to lack of others participating), I might cop this idea and put garland and lights on my green top.

She really did shop ‘til she dropped.

Rocking around the Christmas Tree … not. More like dawdled around it.

Shirtless .... braless ... whatever happened to mannequin modesty?

I’ve never understood this thing of paying hundreds of dollars for, what looks to me like, an ugly purse.

But here they are, lined up and standing in line to get lined up at Tory Burch ─ formerly the location of Kate Spade’s ugly over-priced handbags, with security keeping a close check. But to each his/her own.

Up at the crack of dawn this morning, still feeling energetic, my goal was to get Christmas decorations out of storage, onto the patio and on front door.

But first ... laundry.

Actually, I started my day before the crack of dawn, because I heard the sound of roosters crowing off in the distance right after I started the wash cycle and was headed back to the unit at 5:44 sharp. I also spotted Shadow leaving The Seer’s unit.

I’m not one to gossip, I say tongue in cheek, but 5:44 is awful early in the morning for a gentleman caller. So, one can assume it’s a sleeping over situation. I’d heard  it was so on the grapevine, but this is the first I’d seen with my own eyes.

The Seer did brag, “He’s a real man”. So, if he’s regularly sleeping over, I guess she’d know. LOL.

As I headed up the stairs, I heard myself say to myself it’s not about love, it’s about codependency. But not in the normal sense of one depending on or enabling the other. This is more like co-codependency, both with a need to be fulfilled.

The Seer has clearly stated she’s not happy without a man in her life. Shadow, the strong silent type, doesn’t talk. So, I don’t know what his issue is, but it’s safe to say he too is lonely. So two lonely souls coming together out of a mutual need.

Oh well, whatever it takes to get through this life or as I said before, to each his/her own.

Laundry done, I set about pulling Christmas decorations from the back of the outdoor storage unit.

No easy task, as there’s too much stuff in storage, but I dove in.

Inasmuch as I had to pull containers out of the way to get to Christmas, I took it as an opportunity to declutter ─ go through the containers, get rid of things I’ve been holding onto but don’t need, won’t need.

Along about 10:00 I hit what runners call “The Wall”. I’ve never been a runner but I’m familiar with the experience of hitting the wall ─ beginning to feel fatigued and out of energy. I sat down for a bit, had a cup of coffee, an apple with peanut butter, got up, soldiered on, broke through the wall and, by 11:00, Christmas was out of storage.

Shortly after noon, Christmas was in place on the patio and front door.

Since I don’t entertain, I decided to forego the indoor decorations this year ─ that would be a whole nother day's work and totally unnecessary, so Christmas is done.

Tomorrow I’ll shampoo the carpets, head out to drop off donations to Salvation Army while the carpet dries, then it’s back to my normal routine ─ television, needlepoint, Pokémon Go.

I may stop to pick up a bottle of champagne on the way back, as I find I’m quite fond of the bubbly. However, wish they sold it in smaller servings.

The Kids Are Alright

That’s how I felt coming away from Thanksgiving with the family. 

Thoughts running through my head, as I left the gathering, headed to the hotel yesterday afternoon, was ... The kids are alright, everyone is in an okay place, I don’t have to worry about any of them any longer, and I can die happy because my work is done. 

Both my girls (Twin 1 and Twin 2) are awake individuals ─ to a degree, granddaughter was born awake, the boys .... not so much, not even a little. From my observation of where they are on the path, I’d be very much surprised if any of the boys wake up to any degree at all in this lifetime. They're nice boys, but their level is judgment, ego and indulging their senses.

My showing up was touch and go right up until the last minute.

Being awaked at 3:00 a.m. by a heavy rain, I was pretty much ready to cancel the trip and pay the $191.54 hotel penalty but, going back and forth in a conversation with myself, it was decided that if the rain ceased by 11:00, which was the time I planned to leave, then the trip was back on. I then went back to sleep, awakened again just before 7:00 to find it was wet and still sprinkling outside, but I felt it’d be okay to take my chances and brave the freeway ... still reluctant, figuring there’d be some accidents because of the way folks drive when there’s been a rain.

THEN, I got a text from Twin 2 that changed my whole outlook.

“On this Thanksgiving day you are one of the things that I am most grateful for. Thank you for taking a special interest in developing our skills and talents when we were kids. Thank you for making it happen every Christmas. Those are my best childhood memories. Thank you for making sure we ate every day. Thank you for sacrificing yourself to make sure that we were taken care of. For putting up with crap at work to keep a roof over our head. Thank you for teaching me to crochet and sew. Thank you for being an example of generosity and giving. I know that my heart for others came from you.

Thank you for being an example of good health and good karma to us as adults. I love you so much. Happy Thanksgiving!

The older I get. The more I see how hard single parenting of two girls must have been. I don't know how you did it. You maintained a social life, went to school, and didn't just raise us, you parented us. I recognize that you knew I was into Holly Hobby and Shirley (Shirley Jr./Twin 1) Henrietta Hippo. That you saw my ability for creativity and got me paint by number, loom knitting, crochet stuff. I remember clearly going to Woolworths with you to get yarn. You talked to us and shared your childhood with us. Your pain as an adult. That's what makes Shirley and I the people that we are today. We're smart because of you. We're pretty because of you. We're ladies because of you. Every fingernail you painted for us was not wasted.”

I burst into tears, but the tears washed away my reluctance. I felt reenergized and appreciated, for the first time ever.

She (Twin 2) got it.

She got me.

By the time I was all packed up and ready to leave at 11:00, the sun was up, outside was dry and the drive was easy breezy ─ practically felt like I had the whole freeway to myself.

Once again, I was surrounded by food I cannot eat ... turkey, candied yams, collard greens, mac and cheese, dressing, gravy, dinner rolls, potato salad, cranberry sauce, peach cobbler, ice cream, pies on top of pies. And once again, I wasn’t even tempted, having brought my own safe meals. (Mage, I guess you missed my former reply to your inquiry that I have an allergic reaction to basic components of most products used in day-to-day cooking ─ mostly wheat, soy, corn. Safer for me to eat only what I myself cook to avoid what I call a gut episode (known as gastroparesis) that lasts for weeks.)

At any rate, I once again was not even tempted. Food has become less and less important to me. For one food is too costly nowadays -- If I didn't have to buy groceries, I'd be a millionaire. For two, my having to eat safe has evolved me from a person who previously lived to eat (and therefore having to constantly diet to keep my weight down) to a person who eats to live and no longer has to worry about weight gain. Groceries are still expensive though. Even more so, because I have to purchase quality ingredients.

There were, however mimosas. 

I passed on the orange juice (too much acid), but having learned champagne goes down easy, I happily indulged ... a few times.

Even asked for champagne to go. Took it in a tumbler to the hotel and enjoyed getting a little sloshed while all bundled up warm and cozy in my onesie pajamas.

So, I came, I saw, I had a good time, got to meet a surprise addition to the family – granddaughter’s boyfriend. Her first serious relationship.

Of course, I had to give him a gentle third-degree. He seems sweet, has a job working in a hospital ─ something to do with EKGs, has his own place, comes from a family of Mormons, though he does not consider himself Mormon, is five years older than granddaughter, and has introduced granddaughter to his family. Now he’s met hers, so we’ll see what's up with this. He passed everyone's approval though.

Today, day after Thanksgiving, is the day I generally hold to tradition and begin with the Christmas decorations.

Not feeling it today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe the day after tomorrow.

Back to Normal

Life has returned to the norm here at the senior complex.

I got my Christmas decorations packed and back into storage promptly New Year’s Day, without exhausting or hurting myself. Even used the opportunity to organize other containers in the storage area better.

I was fairly well organized with costumes in one container, tutus in another, scrapbooking had two dedicated containers, but everything else was kinda lumped in so that, when I needed something, like say a needlepoint frame or a stylus, it was easier to just go buy one than move containers and go hunting.

Now it’s organized so that each specific craft has a dedicated container. In the process, I discovered I had seven needlepoint frames, two tubes of aida cloth I’d altogether forgotten I had and various other bits and pieces I’d looked for but could not find in the past.

Curious to know how much energy I’d expend by packing up and reorganizing, I’d worn the Fitbit.

Results indicate I’ve still got it and may be ready to start back with 5Ks.

After delivery of pizzas yesterday, was to be a class entitled “Reframing Your Perspective for 2018”.

Sounded intriguing. I planned to attend.

After the perspective class was to be a Crochet Class. “Learn how to crochet an afghan that will be donated to the Veterans’ Dialysis Center”.

A worthy endeavor for a worthy cause, but I’m all crochet out.

I did a lot of it in the 60’s, 70’s – caps, rugs, clothing -- even taught one of my daughters, who is now like a master at crochet and use to have an Etsy store, until she decided it was more fulfilling to gift items than to sell them.

I didn’t leave the other daughter out of being taught to sew, knit, crochet, it’s just that she didn’t want to learn, never took to crafting of any sort.

At any rate, I wasn’t interested in Tuesday’s Crochet Class, but other residents were.

Problem was, Activity Director was once again a no-show – no perspective class, no crochet class, but Head Maintenance Guy (HMG) took her place in picking up and delivering pizzas.

One of the residents commented on how HMG all of a sudden is moving around like he’s got a fire under his arse – going from unit to unit handling things, picking up pizzas, that buying donuts for residents at last month’s meeting with his own money, smiling and greeting residents.

What happened to bring about this change?

No one knows for sure, but rumor is one too many complaints and a scathing email to Corporate about his previous lack of motivation and poor attitude.

If that’s what happened and he consequently has been warned by Corporate to get in gear or look for a job elsewhere, I assure you – it wasn’t me. Well … yes, I’ve complained to other staff, but in a joking way – like when I told Complex Manager and Assistant Maintenance Guy that I was going to put a lump of coal in HMG’s stocking. And yes, I did put him on blast at the Residents/Management meeting in front of his Corporate Boss, but I didn’t send the email.

Whatever the reason for this change, I welcome the new him.

Countdown to 2018

Today is the seniors' all day until 2:00 a.m. New Year’s Eve Party.

Not planning to attend myself, I did make a run down to the Community Room, around 1:00 p.m., to see how things were going.

Not many people yet, but a lot of weird looking pots on the stove.

Reminds me of when I’d get home from school, see mom had something cooking on the stove in a lidded pot. I’d open the lid and get grossed out by some awful looking animal head – mostly pig as mom made a lot of a country folks favorite back then -- pig head cheese.

None of us kids ate it, so I assume it was for her and the neighbors, but being traumatized by the animal heads probably has something to do with my not eating meat now, except for chicken and turkey. I also don’t eat beef, but that’s because mom had further traumatized me by saying my dog Skippy had been turned over to the meat market to be ground into beef hamburger meat.

At any rate, the cook tells me what’s on the stove is for Enchiladas and “Are you coming back?”

I said no, so she said she’d better wish me a Happy New Year’s now, then she ran over and hugged me.

OMG! Why do people feel they have to follow "Happy New Year’s (HNY)" with a hug?

I’m fairly certain she doesn’t have cooties, so I’m not freaked out about it, but still. 

I also got HNY and a hug from another resident yesterday, as I stepped out, headed to the market.

To play it safe, when I ran into Apache, bringing in the Martinelli Sparkling Cider, and he asked if I’d be coming back, I lied and said yes so he wouldn’t hug me. In fact, I think I’d better keep a low profile next few days until folks get HNY and the hugging out of their system.

Tonight being the official end of the holiday -- last night I get to light up the patio Christmas Decorations, tomorrow will be wrapping everything up, returning to storage.

Wishing you all a happy, prosperous New Year and if you’re one of those who don't mind a hug going along with that, here you go.

Santa Ready

My little senior unit is ready for Santa.

Front door looks very festive and, feeling unwell since returning from Long Beach, I could have left it at that, especially since I was expecting to find Christmas decorations all smelly and moldy from having stored damp last year after heavy rains and insufficient sun to dry out. Instead, I struggled, took frequent rest periods, found no water damage, except to the cardboard box containing the drum set, and managed to get the patio done.

Patio Left

Patio Middle

Patio Right

Levi denim boot stocking is up.

Horseshoe tree is up.

Instead of elf-on-a-shelf, I have Santa on-a-shelf and partnered him with a Starbuck Christmas Cup ornament.

Nothing to do now but pat myself on the back, lay back and enjoy.

Heading to the market this morning, I ran into neighbor around the corner whose sister and brother-in-law were in that accident outside our gate. Inquiring about their health, I’m told they are home now. Nothing was broken, just banged up.

I hope they know how fortunate they are. The same thing happened two months ago at the multi-family complex next door, where a car turning into the complex driveway failed to yield to cross traffic. Everyone in both cars died.

Friday’s encounter with the pervert showed up on tape. Evidently, there’s a camera overlooking the mailbox area. When staff returned from the Thanksgiving holiday, and learned of the encounter, Complex Manager reviewed the tape and, according to Assistant Maintenance Man, was shaken when she saw what happened and could have happened had I not been so quick to get out of the tight space and out into the open.

Assistant Maintenance Man took it personal when he saw the tape. He actually came to my unit to make sure I was okay. Of course, his buddy, the Head Maintenance Man wasn’t with him. ROFLMAO! That guy’s going to be upset for like forever that I outwitted and outplayed him.

At any rate, Assistant Maintenance Man really wants to catch this pervert. 

Problem is, no one knows who the guy is and where he’s coming from. Assistant Maintenance Man said, the guy is not the person the police said they’d been called out on several times before. That family had been forced to move because of their mentally challenged son's behavior some time ago. The pervert is a new crazy, has been observed on the property previously by others, and Assistant Maintenance Man suspects he’s been jumping the fence onto our property from the multi-family complex next door.

The encounter has made me paranoid. Heading out the door and down the stairs, I find myself cautiously looking around. Once outside, I’m looking right, left, behind me and always have my hand in my pocket, fingers on the taser. I was going to start carrying a can of wasp spray, but just read that, as a self-defense device is a myth, that pepper spray is better.

I’m really not liking this feeling paranoid, but suffer it to be so for now.

Unforeseen Circumstances

Every year I get all the Christmas decorations packed away and, a day or so later, find some little something I missed. Last year, it was the wreath on the door. This year it was this little guy that didn’t register until this morning.

It’s a candy dish, but I switch out the regular holder at Christmas with this Santa, and at Halloween with a spooky holder.

I have a feeling that if I pull the patio decorations out of storage for Christmas 2017, I’m going to find mold, mildew and rust, because it never got warm enough to dry everything out, so items were packed away damp. They were all outdoor decorations, but it had rained so often and so hard, that I saw rust forming on metal parts and whatever that fabric was on the drums needed some serious sunlight to dry out, which it didn’t get; also, I was so not careful pushing the three-tier tree into storage that the tiers became unhinged, which means the whatever controls the lights probably got disconnected and might not work next time.

Oh well, no biggie. I’m not even sure I’ll be in the Christmas Spirit end of year and if I am, I’ll toss out the old mold mildew rusted and bring in some new.

New neighbor’s furniture arrived today. She’s got good taste. Before I lost interest and went back to my needlepoint, I saw a Tiffany Lamp and ginormous flat screen appear.

Would you believe I did it again?

I rsvp’d “yes” to a party invitation when I know I don’t like parties and always immediately begin looking for a way out.

On the rare occasion I receive a party invitation, attending seems like such a good idea. Then I get to thinking … thinking about not fitting in because I don’t dance, except for line dancing, don’t drink, can’t eat most of what’s served, and usually don’t know anyone other than the host or hostess.

In this case, in attendance will be folks I worked with back in the 60’s, but I seriously doubt I’ll recognize or remember any of them. I never paid much attention to them in the first place and, unlike the friend who sent me the invite, haven’t stayed in touch with or thought about them over the years.

The hostess in this case is the woman I’ve been friends with for over 40 years -- this is the friend I’d blogged about in 2015 that invited me to a monthly luncheon she started up with those still living and retired from the group we worked with back-in-the-day.

Not sure if I mentioned, but she’d also called because an old male friend wanted to be put in contact with me – was asking for my telephone number.

I’d, of course, declined the monthly luncheon because I didn’t remember the others much and wasn’t interested in becoming reacquainted.

Same with the guy.

Though I’d been interested in becoming involved back in the day, we never got beyond the friend zone. Now, with so many years separating then from now, what could we possibly talk about? So no … tell him to add me as a Facebook friend, if he likes, but do not give him my telephone number.

The occasion this time is her husband’s 70^th Birthday, which actually sounded like it might be a good time until I began thinking about how I’d not fit in and don’t care to socialize on a party level.

So here I am again, wanting out of a commitment, except I was a little smarter this time in that I rsvp’d “Yes, barring unforeseen circumstances”, which gives me if not a door at least a window through which to escape.

Unforeseen circumstances can simply be my saying, “Sorry, but I won’t be driving down that way after all” with no further explanation -- except I’m not completely sure I don’t want to step out of my comfort zone and go.

I've already cancelled the hotel, but have not yet let my friend know I won’t be coming because every time I think about letting her know, my mind is like “Yes, No, Maybe, I Dunno”.

I can always re-book the hotel, even if it’s the day of.

I just need clarity as to a definite yes or no.

Unh uh, Noooo!

Now that everything that needs to be done is done, I’m having a hard time sitting still, not getting out walking, hunting Pokémon.

What’s holding me up is that stress fracture.

The left foot has been doing very well last few days. Walking around inside the unit, I don’t feel anything at all. Running errands outside on concrete and asphalt, I know it’s there because of a slight tenderness. After the agony felt after the Turkey Trot, I don’t want to go backwards in recovery, so I’m trying my best not to head to the campus today, park on the side street, walk to and around the university hitting up PokéStops – which I really need to do because I’m low on balls and because the Thanksgiving offer of double points ends in three days.

Of course I’ve that needlepoint project to distract me from rolling the dice, heading to the university. I’ve also a ton of recorded television programs needing to be viewed, and I’m also thinking about taking everything out of the closet, weeding out, reorganizing.

I can also head down to the Community Room, hang out with the folks, needlepoint and watch TV from there, but I’d rather walk and hurt myself than do that, because of what happened in the 2:00 Residents’/Management meeting we had yesterday afternoon.

The new Community Manager asked for volunteers to decorate for Christmas. I looked around to see who was responding to the request, saw no hands going up, but noticed a lot of folks looking at me.

WTF?!

No way was I volunteering.

Doing my patio was one thing, decorating the offices and the Community Room quite another.

Even after the meeting, as I was leaving, The Seer call my name, loudly, from clear across the room. I turned … “What?”

“Volunteer” she ordered.

“Uh uh, noooo”.

Someone will do it. I’m just gonna lay low until it’s done.

Also discussed in the meeting was a Cookie Swap for next month.

I’m in, but need to decide if I want to go through all the trouble of melted snowmen again or take the easy way out with Trader Joe’s slice and bake Ginger and Chocolate Chip Cookies.

I did the slice and bake my first year here at the complex and the cookies went fast.

Cookie Swap 2012

Due to Nurse Ratched coming in and the demise of activities, there were no further cookie swaps until The Baker organized one last year. I made melted snowmen.

The snowmen were slow to go because folks were enthralled and opted to admire and take photos instead of scarfing down.

So, I dunno. Guess I’ll decide which to make closer to the date, but I’m leaning towards slice and bake.

Also brought to our attention at yesterday’s session was an upcoming event – a December 23^rd Christmas Luncheon.

Speaking for the Activity Director, the Community Manager described the event as “everything is to be provided for you.”

Fool me once.

We just had the Thanksgiving fiasco which Activity Director indicated would be catered, everything provided, but ended up a turkey, no sides, with Activity Director shopping for instant mashed potatoes, canned gravy, and box cornbread mix minutes before the event was to start.

I’m skeptical, but we’ll see.

Stringing in the Rain

My inside space is my own again.

Christmas is outside, on the patio … where it belongs.

Up at 2:30 yesterday morning, I couldn’t handle sitting around all day, doing nothing -- because of the weather, when there were things needing to be done.

It wasn’t full on rain, just drizzling when -- at 8:00, I went out onto the patio and began stringing lights.

Neighbors walking through the quad were highly amused … “Ha ha, you’re stringing lights in the rain?”

“It’s only drizzling”, said I.

Once the lights were in place, I lit them up but didn’t see any shimmer. They looked like regular lights to me which, in all fairness may have been because it was daytime and the shimmer would have shown up at night. Either way, I wasn’t thrilled because one strand of 200 wasn’t giving me enough coverage.

Sorta reminds me of Charlie Brown’s Christmas Tree … sparse; but no way was I spending an additional $100 for two more strands, so it was what it was, I’d live with it and moved on to setting up the gift boxes.

I opened the box containing the three white and gold and what do you know … stuffed down inside one of the three were my string lights.

That’s what happens when I don’t put things in their proper place.

I guess I was saving space last year by stuffing the lights inside the gift box, but not remembering I had done so threw me off this year.

At any rate, I no longer needed the shimmering lights so, patio decorations done by 9:30, it still only drizzling, I boxed them back up, put on my boots, rain jacket, grabbed an umbrella and returned the lights to Lowe’s, along with the Timer I thought would work better than my remote control thingy, but didn’t.

Stopping at the Dollar Tree in that area, I was finally successful, located and crossed off my list that birthday money card.

Gifting would be so much less complicated if everyone drank coffee and I could do all my shopping at Starbucks.

On the way back to the complex, the rain did come, but by then everything that needed to be done was done and I spent the remainder of the day relaxing on the couch, sipping coffee, watching the rain, enjoying everything in its proper place.

So go on and laugh yourselves silly dear neighbors. My seasonal work is done, yours yet to be. Maybe mine will draw in carole singers, as it did last year.

It’s All About the Shimmer

Yesterday’s rain wasn’t long, but it was hard.

I’d manage to get my hair done, shop for the money birthday card – with no luck, pick up Christmas lights for the patio and was on the freeway headed back to the complex when the rain hit. And what hit was like a storm, drops coming down fast, hard, hitting the windshield with a thud that had me thinking it was hail; and there was wind, wind as equally aggressive as the hail sounding rain drops.

Awake at 2:30 this morning, for no good reason except that’s how it’s been (anywhere from 2:15 to 4:30) since the time change, I was anxious to get the day started but was thwarted first by having to wait until the rest of the world decided to get up and get going, and secondly unable to map out the day because everything is dependent upon whether today will be more rain or not.

Christmas lights having been purchased, I’m anxious to violate my lease agreement by attaching them to the patio railing and get the Christmas decorations out-of-my inside space.

That’s not gonna happen if it rains.

I also need to return a Timer to Lowe’s and do more searching for the money birthday card.

That too will not happen if it rains.

About those lights … I very nearly got out of Lowe’s with perfectly reasonably priced string lights that I could loop and drape on the railing to look like string lights, but dilly dallied around window shopping in the Christmas department and walked up on these …

Oh why not, thought I. It’s twice as much as I planned to pay for lights, but they’re pretty and as close to Disney as I’ll get before I leave this earth, because I refuse to pay $100 to stand in lines so long I don’t get to experience my money's worth of attractions.

Would you believe, in one of the memory albums, there are souvenirs from my last visit ... 19 years ago?

I spent all my time going through Small World over and over and over, and the Michael Jackson exhibit.

At any rate, while at the checkout stand, two girls from neighboring checkouts, having a lull in customers, sauntered over to converse with my cashier. One of the girls picked up the box, looked it over, said, “Hmmm. I wonder what makes it Disney?” (Because there no mouse ears and the lights look so similar to all the other lights in Lowe's).

“The price”, said I.

There was laughter all around, and a “Right, huh”.

Then my cashier picked up the box, examined more closely, said, “They shimmer. You’re paying for the shimmer honey.”

I didn’t even notice the lights are to shimmer, whatever shimmer is. I was hypnotized by the way they draped, got caught up in the moment, spent way too much and now am anxious to get them in place to determine if the shimmer is worth it enough not to exercise my option to return.

If it doesn't rain.