Did You Make an Appointment?

Received an email on Saturday from Debra of She Who Seeks that Michael’s Craft Store was selling 46" Flytrap.

I thought Michael’s had long ago gone out of business, converted to an online store, but quickly googled, learned there was still a Michaels in Redlands — a doable 30-minute drive. So, I headed out in the heat yesterday, to check the plant out.

It was huge.

Fortunately, there was a 36" option.

It even has a spider on one of the bulbs.

There was even a door wreath available.

I passed on the door wreath.

I also passed on the cute doggie by the door, as Skelly the Skeleton already has a dog/Cujo, that I'm thinking of rehoming.

The 36" I chose is potted.

The plant is described as being a mixture of styrofoam, polyethylene, polyester, PVC, iron wire, cement, and labeled "for indoor décor use", but it didn't say "only", so we'll see how it handles outside.

I’m not at all sure that anything, other than the iron wiring, is good feng shui; but I’ve got enough good energy around to counter if the other materials are problematic.

So, anyway, the plan was to free Audrey from the pot it’s planted in, add it to the skeleton planter but, the material holding it in place is immune to the drill, screwdriver and hammer chisel, so I ended up positioning it as is and not liking it.

Reeassessing the arrangement this morning, I realized I could plant Audrey, pot and all, inside the skeleton planter and did.

Maybe the heat of the sun will soften the material, and I can chisel Audrey out of the pot altogether; but the current situation, of placing the plant, pot and all, in the skeleton planter with the little 25-inch Audrey, is working.

Returning from Michaels I found I was blocked from getting up the walkway and the stairs by three dirt bikes, lined up in a row.

I assumed the bikes belonged to people visiting White Haired Neighbor, started to yell up that I was blocked, but instead decided to maneuver my body through, around, between the bikes, careful not to knock one over.

Having made it through the first two bikes, the last bike being positioned right in front of the stairs, was more challenging. However, the way it was leaning, gave me just enough space to squeeze through, plant my feet on the first step.

Having managed the gauntlet, walking up the stairs, WHN’s door opened.

To prevent whoever was planning on coming out from running into me, knocking me back down the stairs I'd worked so hard to access, I said, "I’m coming up". The door closed.

Just as I reached my door, WHN’s door opened again. She and a handsome man, who she introduced as her son, and two young boys, introduced as her grandsons stepped out.

"You made it through the bikes", said her son.

"If my hips had been any wider, I’d not have made it", said I, and they all laughed.

Seeing me holding a 36" Venus Flytrap, WHN said, "I like your plant. Getting ready for Halloween".

"Not really?" said I. "I'm Halloween all year round."

"A lot of people are", said she.

I wish some of that lot of people were living here, so I wasn't the only one with a fetish for skeletons and other oddities, LOL.

Before I got inside my unit, WHN asked, "Did you ever call down and make arrangements to get your pipe cleared?"

"No. It’s like I said, if they don’t care, I don’t care".

"I still don’t understand", said she. "He was here, the equipment was here. It was just mean".

She’s not wrong.

Later that evening, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Looking through the blinds in the kitchen, I saw it was the Talker.

I was not appropriately dressed for company …… wearing only a tank top and panties. So, I opened the door a crack, went to say, "I don’t have any pants on" and before I could finish the sentence, she said, "I don’t care. I’m mad" and barged right in.

So, there I was not fully clothed and took a guess at what had so disturbed her. "MAGA?", said I.

"MAGA, Painted Rock Lady and Lu", said she; all three now being described as "Those bitches". LOL.

After she’d got some of what upset her out …… enough to calm down to where I could point out the absurdity of my state of undress, I told her to "sit", went to the backroom, slipped on shorts, and let her talk about the girls having let her down, a breakup with that 50-year-old she was dating, and family issues for 2 hours.

She was not only over it all by the time she left, but laughing. So, my work was done.

However, the thing is …… since it seems I can no longer let myself be comfortable in my own space, because folks are knocking, catching me in various stages of undress, I'm seriously thinking about changing my boots doormat to something like this ……

Or this ……

The Eagle Has Landed

I no longer have the second floor all to myself because the eagle has landed, furniture and all.

Hearing thumps, bumps, footsteps going up/down the stairs yesterday, I was too lazy to get off the couch, watch what was being brought in.

However, at one point, I began thinking she was probably just as curious as to what to expect from whoever was behind the door across from her, as I had been about her, so I stepped out onto the patio, saw who I assumed was her daughter bringing in plastic flowers — which is not good feng shui, but not my problem.

From the patio, I offered welcome words to the daughter, who said it’s her mother moving in, made a comment about her mom saying this is the last move she’ll ever make because, after living 34 years in wherever she’s coming from, moving is too exhausting. Mom caught up, we exchanged names, I told her she’d be happy here, and that was that.

With the preliminaries out of the way, sensing no warning bells, deciding she was dubbed White Haired Neighbor (thanks Bob for the moniker), I really wasn’t interested in anything else, went back inside to what I was doing, which was trying to talk myself unsuccessfully into heading outside, to put in some walking miles.

An hour or two later, the phone rings. It’s Talker …… "So what have you found out about your new neighbor? I see her moving in", 🤣.

"Just her name, that she seems okay, I’ll leave the rest up to you" (because Talker is like the unofficial welcome wagon … makes a point to meet everyone she sees on the property, learn their life story).

I expect the smoke signals and Indian drums have signaled the eagle has landed, that I have a new neighbor and, when caught outside, I will be given the third degree as to who what when.

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.

Year of the Snake

The holidays are over, Christmas decorations are back in storage and, as far as I know, nothing new is happening around here.

Knock Knock, stopped by once last week, to show me her newly pierced ears and again today just to let me know she was around …… but I’m sure she was expecting I’d have a treat for her, which I did not.

I didn’t have a treat for last week either, so maybe she’ll take this as a sign to stop knocking on my door.

It’s not meant that way at all, but I won’t be mad if it's taken that way, turns into a situation like a cat …… If you don’t feed the cat, the cat stops coming by.

This is the Feng Shui Year of the Snake, a time for reflection and spiritual growth in the midst of turmoil, so my mind has been so preoccupied with detaching from appearances, getting clarity so as to see behind the scenes ……… the what and whys of it, listening, that buying something to prepare for Knock Knock next visit never crossed my mind. I even forgot my girls birthday, failed to send them a text on the day of.

I’ve also been too busy with my crafts and further efforts at getting rid of clutter to nose around, ferret out what the seniors are up to.

Not receiving the usual Monthly Calendar is helping me to detach from the happenings.

It’s not meant to aid in my detaching, instead it’s meant as a weapon by management to get me to sign up for the Rent Café.

It’s not personal. No one on the complex received the Monthly Calendar, advising us of events, rule changes, maintenance notes, office hours, etc, because Manager last month announced the Monthly Calendar would go paperless first of this year.

For last two years, management has been pushing for us to pay rent via the Rent Café.

Rent Café is some kind of third-party portal, designed to make work life easier for management.

It seems to me Manager’s work life is already too easy, as she has time to sit in her office, spy on us via her video equipment. So, if signing up for Rent Café to pay rent online makes less paperwork for her, more free time, I’m not interested.

In addition, it’s not free — an additional $3.00 a month.

Not a lot of money, but the nerves ……… you want us to make work life easier for management and pay for the privilege?

I don’t think so.

I’m good with issuing a monthly check.

I’m guessing other residents feel the same way, because management is always coming up with creative measures to try to lure us over to Rent Café.

They’ve offered a gift card lottery for us to sign up, offered to dispense with the $3.00 a month fee ……… but just for the initial signing up month and just generally tried to cajole us into signing up by stressing how easy it is to have rent automatically deducted from our accounts.

Not getting the response they wanted thus far, just last year management dispensed with the paper form we’d fill out for work orders and tied it into Rent Café …… making it necessary for us to join Rent Café in order to submit work orders online.

Management is failing to take into consideration, it's not just that some of us don't trust them or their third-party portal, want nothing to do with it, but that not many here have computers or smart phones to access the portal even if they wanted to.

Consequently, I don’t know what everyone else is doing to bypass that roadblock — maybe just walk into the office and verbally request repairs be taken care of, maybe catch one of the guys out on the property, request service. I myself keep a paper trail by emailing the office when I need something in the unit fixed.

At any rate, the Monthly Calendar is the latest ploy to force our signing up for Rent Café — no more paper calendar posted to our doors. Calendars can be accessed through Rent Café.

Again, I don’t know how others are working around this, but I don’t care if I get a Calendar or not; plus, I can visualize this backfiring, causing more work for management, rather than less.

Say tree trimmers are scheduled to be on site, or another paving project comes up. Inasmuch as I and others have not signed up for Rent Café, management is going to have to notify us to move our cars out of the way …… probably by some sort of paper notice posted to our doors.

Likewise when an inspection or Community Meeting is scheduled …… If they want us to show up, some sort of notification is in order.

No matter how one looks at it — if it’s important, management will have to notify us regardless of our not being signed up for Rent Café; if it’s not important, and we get no notification because we're not on Rent Café, all the better to not know, clutter my mind.

Witch, Please

Yesterday’s bingo was a hoot and a holler.

I’m no longer about putting together a lucky outfit, because time is tight getting to bingo after working out and usually stopping by the market. Consequently, after putting groceries away and throwing together a snack to take with me, I just change into a fresh top, leggings and hustle down to the Community Room.

It’s getting crowded. Folks are showing up — some we’re happy to see, others not so much.

I won two games. First game, I opted for a plant from the prize table.

Learning it wasn’t a live plant or silk, but some kind of plastic — which is bad feng shui, I later exchanged it for a Salad-to-Go container as I’d lost the lid to the one I have.

Winning a second time, I opted for the other Salad-to-Go container because two is better than one.

Drama came to town at the end of Game 9.

Attendees were reminded to not clear their cards at the end of Game 9 because Game 10, Blackout, was a continuation.

New attendees at the last few bingos are a non-English speaking couple. We all try to help them understand the various games as much as we can but, for some reason, the wife can’t remember to NOT clear her card on Game 9.

Just as I turned around to make sure she did NOT clear after Game 9, she was too quick and had done so despite being reminded not moments before the game started.

Red Light stepped in and attempted to help her reconstruct the numbers on the card, so she could play on.

Fortunately, the husband was good. He’d not cleared his card.

At any rate, as Red Light was trying to help, the mother of Miracle Guy turned around and yelled at Red Light, "WHY ARE YOU DOING THAT?!", like it was any of her business.

Let’s give Miracle Guy’s mom the name of Black Witch (BW) for purposes of the blog.

Red Light looked stunned at being yelled at, said "Excuuuuse Me!" and walked away from trying to help.

For those of you who are new readers, Miracle Guy is the resident who is lucky to be alive because, in his younger gangbanger days, he was shot, survived, was shot again, survived, then survived being stabbed and molotov cocktailed.

He’s a little brain damaged slow now, walks with a limp from all he’s been through, but still alive.

He has his own unit here, his mother (the BW) has her own.

After BW's outburst, bingo went on with the resident sitting across from BW winning the Blackout game.

The caller asked me to look at the card, verify numbers for the win as she called out numbers she did NOT call.

I verified the win whereupon BW said, "I won too".

Looking at her card, I saw that she had blocked off the numbers the caller just said she did not call, so I said she did not have a win.

BW yelled, "DON’T YOU ARGUE WITH ME! ..... I WON!".

"No, you did not" said I and walked away.

There was much mumbling and grumbling on her part as she moved around the room, after which she walked over to me and yelled ..... "AND YOU NEED TO STAY OUT OF MY BUSINESS!"

"I don’t respond to bullying. You picked the wrong one today", said I.

She continued to grumble, called me the B word a few times, whereupon I said, "I’m going to put a curse on you".

"You gonna do what?"

"Make a voodoo doll and put a curse on you".

She continued to mumble, grumble, call me names, so I began casting the Rebuking Spell on her.

Long time readers will remember the spell I don’t get to use often — once on our Karen resident from afar, and once on an unruly child to her face, in front of her mom where I raise my hand in a halt manner and say, "I rebuke you demon. I rebuke you in the name of Jesus Christ. Out out, evil spirit. Release this body and let it go".

Towards the tail end of rebuking her, I thought to record the occurrence for you.

She mumbled and grumbled her way to the office (Manager No. 10) to complain about being mistreated.

She doesn’t have a leg to stand on. She certainly can’t use the old lady card because I think I’m older than she, just in better shape. Plus, I’ve got allies.

After she left the manager's office, the Baker went in to see if bingo would be discontinued because of the complaint.

Manager No. 10 said she wasn’t doing anything with what BW had to say. That she’s only concerned with fights and loud arguments.

Since it was neither, we’re good, but Red Light is worried BW will cause trouble in future and wants her banned from bingo.

I envision her returning on principle, just to try to push her considerable weight around, bully others.

The “B” word doesn’t faze me. So, she can return and try to rattle me as many times as she’d like without success.

However, because there’s the possibility of her being 51/50, I will take the precaution of not sitting with my back to her in case she becomes violent.

If needed, my next spell will be to erase her.

That’s where I hold a hand up, think of that hand as an eraser, swipe it in front of me as though erasing words from a chalkboard, only I'm not seeing a chalkboard but a person and say "Erase, erase, erase" as I erase her away.

Don't ask me where I get this stuff from because I don't know, except maybe from all the old corny vampire movies I like to watch.

If all else fails, a voodoo doll will be made. After all, I did make a voodoo doll of No.45 when I got fed up with his shenanigans, and who can say that doll is not one of the reasons his life is steadily falling apart, indictment and jail getting ever closer.

All in all, bingo was fun. I thoroughly enjoyed interacting with BW, letting her know that bullying and being an Angry Demander is not always going to result in people backing down and running away, like Red Light did, nor in people acquiescing and giving her what she wants.

All Fun and Games Until Somebody Chokes

Bingo was preempted by a surprise birthday party for the Baker today.

Red Light, the organizer of the event, went all out.

Potato Salad

Ribs

Corn on the Cob

Pièce de résistance

Of course, my sensitive gut demanded I decline but it was not only my gut issues stopping me from eating anything.

It was just yesterday when Red Light texted me to come down to her unit, sign the Baker’s birthday card.

That was the first time I’ve been in her unit and it didn't feel right. Sorta anti-feng shui.

She’s got that nice patio window to open out to the world, let the sunshine in, but the curtains on the patio window were drawn and inside was like a dungeon — dark, gloomy, cramped.

The dark brown couch and matching big chair, which were too large, took up too much space. The color did not serve to brighten up the place. Nor did whatever was causing the kitchen and kitchen table area to look small and cramped.

Hers is a one-bedroom, same as mine and we all have the same space to work with. So, the idea of Red Light sitting in that dark depressing atmosphere all day, no space to move around … if I could have eaten what she’d prepared in that kitchen of hers, I could not, would not.

Would you believe that, in the midst of the seniors enjoying their meal — me with a kale salad, cherry tomatoes and walnuts, there was a loud bang.

One of the seniors was lying flat on her back on the floor.

Pandemonium broke out as we tried to grasp what had happened.

"Did she just fall and hit her head?" someone asked.

"Don’t touch her!" someone else yelled.

"I’ll go get management" was another voice.

"Should I call 911?" asked another.

The woman on the floor, in response to "Are you hurt?" began touching her chest.

Assistant Maintenance Guy rushed in, took one look and said, "I can’t touch her".

By then, the woman on the floor had somewhat caught her breath and asked to be lifted from the floor.

AMG repeated, "I can’t touch her", so two ladies managed to get her off her back into a seated position. The woman who’d fallen then grabbed onto the edge of the table and, with the help of the two ladies, got herself off the floor back into her chair.

When someone again asked, "Should I call 911?", she replied "No, I’ll be okay".

The problem she said was food got stuck in her throat and, first thing she knew, she was on the floor.

When she said food had gotten caught in her throat, I thought Ah Ha!, food from that dark gloomy kitchen, but who knows.

The new manager (No. 10) showed up, as did Head Maintenance Guy.

I couldn't hear was No. 10 was saying to her, but she did give her a piece of a paper and a pen, had her write down what happened, had two other residents sign as having witnessed seeing her on the floor.

I'm assuming management was protecting itself from a lawsuit — it wasn't a slip and fall.

At any rate, I looked over shortly after all was said and done — the fallen resident looked fine, fully recovered, had gone back to eating, went onto participate in the party games.

Other than the choking incident, the event was a success.

Unlike her drab unit, Red Light had decorated the room beautifully.

Sitting in my usual spot, regular table, what did I find but boots.

How kismet was that.

The Baker was thoroughly surprised, cried several times, even though she arrived before most of the residents, because there was a miscommunication as to when to arrive.

I’d planned to be there well before she, in order to capture her look of surprise. However, due to the miscommunication, I missed her initial surprised reaction. So, what I did was to later have her go out, come back in, do a reenactment, LOL.

Terrific acting job.

At the end of the event, as we were preparing to clean up and head out, I saw a half-naked woman enter the pool area.

It’s your lucky day Mike …. Black Bikini is back. She’s wearing a different skimpy outfit, but it’s definitely your girl.

No one in the room claimed to know her, but she absolutely must be a new resident, not a visitor.

Last time I spotted her, she was cleaning the pool's filter. This time she grabbed pool equipment and began cleaning the jacuzzi, then the pool.

Rigged from the Start

In deference to my readers across the pond — whom I’ve discovered won’t see tonight’s Spring Baking Championship Finale until next week, I won’t divulge any details, other than to say I’m shook and the whole season was rigged from the start … but not in the way us fans on Twitter, Reddit and Facebook had thought.

And yes, if after seeing this episode you're wondering, crossing chopsticks is considered bad luck.

This week started off with, once again, big changes at the Pain Cave.

Needing more space to accommodate his growing group classes, Trainer was talking about knocking down the wall to the room where us personal training clients do one-on-ones.

Sure enough, walking in this morning, I saw the wall had indeed come tumbling down.

The room previously ending at the wall has swallowed up the space behind where the wall used to be and is now larger, while the warmup station, i.e., the treadmill, has been moved back to a previous location — front room up against the feng shui Health wall, in the New Knowledge corner.

My face is to the wall, when the wall should be behind me, but since this is like the 8th or 9th time the treadmill has moved in the last three years and undoubtedly won’t be the last, I’m not gonna make an issue of it.

At least I know the next time the treadmill moves, it won't be returning to the back room, because there is no longer a room there.

I keep telling trainer that, if he wants to get rid of the treadmill, since I’m the only client that uses it, I can do other things in-between sets, to keep my heartrate up — like jump rope.

I can’t do the jump jump jump the younger folks do, but I can jump pause jump pause jump pause my way through. LOL.

No Activity Calendar posted to the door when I returned to the complex, so no idea what if any craft classes are arranged for us tomorrow.

I could just go to the Community Room to check tomorrow, but probably won’t leave the unit.

My buddy Apache was on the property this afternoon, and stopped by to fill me in on the latest.

He says Community Manager No. 9, whom I’ve still not seen nor met, is the little cutesy type. Wears high heels, tight pants, much like former manager Nurse Ratched did.

I imagine those aren’t his words, but what he’s being told by residents and explains a lot as to why we’re not getting calendars in a timely manner and why the lawns are allowed to go brown.

If she’s the type that thinks she’s cute, is full of herself like Nurse Ratched, we’re in for another bumpy ride.

Apache also informed me that the Helpful Little Lady is, as I expected, not happy living with her son and his family. Other residents had already informed me of as much, saying she calls old friends here on the property late at night/early mornings (2:30 a.m. even) saying she can’t sleep, misses everyone.

Those friends have encouraged her to move back, but she says her doctor won’t let her.

I can’t but wonder if her son has convinced the doctor to pay more attention to what he (the son) wants for her — so he can continue to collect caregiver money, rather than what she wants for herself.

As for what Apache had been up to, he said he was just dropping someone off after having taken her to get her driver’s license.

"WHAT!?" said I. "I’ve seen her driving for as long as I’ve lived here. Do you mean to tell me she was driving without a license?"

That was exactly what he was telling me and furthermore she was getting a license today because she’d had an accident ...... and fled.

"That’s hit and run" said I.

"The accident wasn’t her fault" said he. "No one was hurt, she didn’t have a license, so she fled".

"Still hit and run", said I. "She’s likely to get herself arrested".

"It’s been two weeks and nothing yet" said he.

WOW!

Just WOW!

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.

Free Stuff

Did you get your free N95 masks?

I popped into the drugstore after this morning’s workout and, while checking out, was asked, "Do you want your free three masks?"

I’d not paid much attention to the news that the government would be issuing N95’s for free distribution at various pharmacies, because I’m quite happy with my many bling masks, but thought why not, so I said yes.

I’ll keep them in the car for just-in-case situations.

I was thankful the clerk had asked because, in the short time I was at the register, their phone was ringing off the hook. It appeared to be people wanting to know if the masks were in.

Judging by the number of calls, their supply isn’t going to last long, nor will their patience at fending off phone calls.

I’d also registered, last week/week before, for the government’s free at-home testing thingies. Again, for a just-in-case situation.

Walking into the Pain Cave this morning, turned towards Trainer just inside the door, asking if he was okay — because he’d been in terrible pain on Wednesday due to a toothache, he said he was fine and then said, "Turn around".

Thinking I had something stuck to my back, I turned around, looked over my shoulder, asked what he saw, which was "Nothing. Turn around".

So, playing into whatever game he had going, I began turning full circle around and that’s when I saw it.

He’d relocated the treadmill for like the 6th or 7th time.

Running out of places to relocate the treadmill, he's now moving it around to where it once was. This time, where it was in July of last year, two moves ago — front of the studio, just inside the door.

From here ...

Overnight to here ...

It’s an okay position insofar as Feng Shui, because it faces the Wealth/Prosperity position, with the Family and Physical Health side to my left, and an open view to the outside on my right.

The move this time wasn’t just because he’s a Leo, moving things around because he can, but to get rid of the couch he’d located in this position — which couch seemed to encourage parents dropping their children off for the Kid Boxing Class to congregate on the couch, chitchat with each other, sometimes bring younger disruptive children with them.

Trainer’s thinking is no couch, no parents, no disruptive youngins — not to mention Omicron. So parents dropping off their children will now see a treadmill where the couch used to be and be encouraged to congregate elsewhere outside the studio.

Whether that works for him or not, after so many treadmill moves, I have no doubt there will be a 7th or 8th move. He can't help himself :-)