Proof is in the Pudding

"Has the tea worked" asked Catalyst in a comment.

All I can say is, when I woke up yesterday, took care of morning activities of daily living, got online, began reading blogs, when I got to Dawn’s Bohemian Valhalla blog …… that I haven’t been able to access since shortly after the trees were cut down and I began dealing with that annoyed spirit, even though locked out, I always clicked to try anyway ONLY this time I clicked AND …… I was in.

That’s one.

Then, when I got around to making breakfast, forgetting the front right burner hasn't worked since shortly after the trees were cut down, out of habit I turned the nob, as I have a couple times ONLY this time …… I got fire.

That’s two.

Thinking the clock's timer on the cellphone might have rightened itself, I tested the timer but no. Still not working. BUT it was the last to have been affected, so maybe takes a few more days for the sound to come back.

At any rate, I'd say the tea has once again proved its efficacy and …………

Painted Rock Lady telephoned yesterday afternoon to warn I was in danger of a lease violation because Cujo was not on a leash, LOL.

"But he’s in a cage" I joked (meaning inside the patio rails).

"Doesn’t matter. Management said all dogs outside have to be on a leash", said she.

So, I quick fast resolved the issue, and sent her a pic.

She must have still been in the area, because I could hear her laughing.

She also said that management has advised all dog owners that no one else can walk their dog …… no neighbor, no visiting relative, only the dog’s actual owner.

So, I guess Skelly is the only one that can walk Cujo.

Stupid management. Stupid rules riling up the dog owners.

I can understand why management would want dogs leashed, but who cares if someone is ill, can’t walk their dog and a neighbor or family member volunteers to do so, as I've often seen.

What’s the harm in that?

I couldn’t get that skeleton planter off my mind. It kept calling my name. So, I made a quick trip back to the market.

Bow Wow Wow Yippie Yo Yippie Ye

Skelly got a dog over the weekend … a Golden Retriever.

Meet Cujo.

I’m currently having a real fixation with skeletons, wish I had more and almost added a skeleton planter, I saw at the market, to my menagerie.

It’s a planter I can leave on the patio all year round but, since the sun kills every plant I try to raise on the patio, I couldn’t justify the purchase.

Also inside the market, I spied a clever way to "carve" a pumpkin … I ininitially thought it was a mask glued on, which would have been a great idea, but painting does just as well as carving.

Leaving the market, I spotted a Rubicon tricked out with a Halloween display, driving in. Of course I turned around, took a few pics as the occupants walked away.

I'll be sad to see the month of Halloween end, because seeing seasonal decorations is so fun.

In other news — knock on wood, I think the angry tree spirit, with a little kick from an old remedy, has left the unit.

I got serious about speeding its exit when the timer on the cellphone failed — another act of electronic vandalism. The timer would tick off the minutes I'd set for cook time but, when the time was up, it emitted no sound/no signal to let me know time had run out, after which an old remedy came to mind.

Back in the day (around 2005), when I was up against the Klan at that racist agency (CEO Klansman, various Klan Department Heads, their Klan secretaries), I’d get to the office early, before the racist arrived, walk around and into various offices with a ying yang mug of Gadatsu Holy Tea, speaking out loud, "Evil spirits, chew on this" as a way to draw their dark energy out of the atmosphere in which I was working, because that’s what Holy Tea does. It’s used in rituals to bring peace and salvation to unrested spirits, effective in purifying negative energy.

One morning, as I was working the ritual, I failed to notice my boss was in her office, saw me, yelled out, "Shirley, what are you doing?"

"Getting rid of evil spirits", said I.

She was cool, knew I was different, liked me, sometimes helped me by giving intel on what the Klan was planning. So, she just accepted what I was doing, like it was normal, went back to whatever it was she was doing. LOL.

I only had to do the ritual a couple times before I felt a shift in the energy … the Klansmen, Klan girls not so sure of themselves, more leery of me because I didn’t seem to react with the fear they’d expected. Instead, I was always smiling, walking around looking smug, like I knew something they didn’t.

I did.

End the end, the racists could never get me or get to me and, eventually, all the bad energy they directed at me bounced off my wall of protection and hit ‘em. The racist CEO resigned ahead of an indictment for financial fraud, the various racist Department Heads, like rats jumping a sinking ship, fled to other jobs. One committed suicide, and those remaining — because they couldn’t find other jobs, went on the downlow with their racism, were no longer a problem for me.

So, anyway, when the timer on the cellphone went out, I decided to get serious about sending the tree being on its way, thought back to the Holy Tea, which has been with me, in the cupboard all these years.

I’ve never had to use it since those days with the racists, but it doesn’t hurt to have such a powerful antidote to unruly forces on hand, so I’ve kept it all these years … when I moved to Long Beach to help Great Granddaughter out, when I moved back to where I am now, the tea was always with me.

On Friday, I performed the ritual, sent the tree being — knock on wood, packing.

In even more news, it appears Lu and Dream Lover are back on; as daily, since trucks arrived, carted Lu’s hoarding stuff away, I’ve observed him heading for her unit and, looking at posts on Facebook, Dream Lover has been gifting Lu with some of his Crafts Day artwork.

That’s all she needs … more stuff.

At any rate, Happy Monday, the game continues.

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.

The Other Friday

Being a roll with the punches type human, now that the election is over in the worst possible way, I find myself strangely calm, nerves no longer on edge, over it.

Standing on my spiritual training and belief that everything happens for a reason, that the Universe has a plan, afraid to hold onto hope in the first place, once all was said and done I didn’t even cycle through the normal stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression. I went straight through to acceptance and moving on.

I did stress eat last few days. Probably gained 5+ pounds but, other than that, it was business as usual when I awoke this morning, realized tomorrow is the other Friday, of bingo’s every other Friday schedule.

I will say this though ………… Trainer is rather gleeful about the outcome of the election, saying he was better off when 45 was prez.

I’m no political expert, but I do think in an unemotional logical Leonard Spock manner, and think that’s because Trainer was still benefitting from the Obama years when 45 took over. By the time Biden took over, 45 had mucked things up so that the hard times Trainer attributes to Biden were roll overs from 45’s years.

At any rate, Trainer thinks prices will now go down, yada yada yada.

Dream on.

I countered with, "More than likely, you’ll be deported and I’ll lose my Social Security".

"Do you know how hard it will be to get rid of Social Security, all the hoops?"

"They managed to overturn Roe vs. Wade, so …………"

"That was during Biden".

"Sure, but put in place to happen by 45".

At any rate, our back and forth ended with my saying "You do know I won’t be able to afford your prices and will have to opt out of training if I lose my Social Security".

"I tell you what, Shirley. If you lose your Social Security, I’ll train you for free."

"Deal".

Trainer is so sure 45/47 couldn’t dissolve Social Security that he’s bet free training against a raise in his fee — the amount to be decided by me.

Like a fool I said an additional $25.

He said he’d have been good with $1.

At any rate, I’d love free training, but I hope I’m wrong, Trainer is right, that Social Security will be safe from the dark lord and his minions.

Time will tell.

A very short time I’m guessing.

So, anyway, tomorrow's plan is to rush down to the Community Room after tomorrow morning’s workout, set up bingo cards, glass chips and my water bottle to indicate seat taken.

I feel comfortable that, after the week before last’s hissy fit because two old biddies played stupid and took my spot, no one will try that again, though I’m actually hoping someone will, so I can calmly turn around, walk out, make that the reason I’ll no longer burden myself with bingo duty.

High Winds Warning

Plan for today was to walk the complex.

I’d done so both Saturday and Sunday. The freezing cold seeming to be behind us, I even removed the bubble wrap from the bedroom window.

So, after sticking my head out the door, to determine if I needed to dress in long sleeves or short sleeves for outside, and almost being knocked back by the force of wind coming through the door, I decided to stay safely indoors today, no walking.

Checking the weather channel, finding a High Wind Warning for the area — 30 to 40 mph with gusts to 70 mph, I decided also no driving.

Speaking of driving … as I was driving into the complex yesterday, returning from the morning’s workout, who did I see driving out but that technician that tried to gaslight me.

What are the chances he was servicing another unit for the same reason? …… the outages caused problems with that resident’s equipment as well.

If so, after yesterday’s snafu when he tried to blame the problem on the laptop and my supposedly not knowing how to connect to the internet, he knew not to go that route again. Would instantly know to swap out the network.

Still no signs of Camper Guy in the area, and Trainer has no idea why.

Maybe CG is travelling and will return, maybe not, but Trainer doesn’t care. He’s all excited — like a kid in a candy store, about the new upgrade to the camera — the upgrade that enables him to view that side of the building on his phone, alerts him when anyone is in the area and will set off an alarm if glass is shattered.

Boys and their toys, LOL.

As Trainer had me on and off the treadmill, working on sit downs/sit ups in-between, I complained about the market having hired yet another leud and lascivious acting guy as Security and how, to add to the creepiness, this one looks exactly like my deceased ex-husband, could be his twin.

To which Trainer said, "Maybe it’s him".

Not unusual for Trainer to think that way inasmuch as he’s an old soul.

In fact, a few months ago, he’d asked if I’d seen any quarters lately ……… because I was always finding quarters in and around the Cave (along with other places I’d go) and shared with Trainer how my deceased sister said quarters would be a sign she was around.

I’d responded "No, because she’s back already".

Quarters became fewer and fewer and ended altogether around the time granddaughter was expecting the great granddaughter. I’d not thought about it at the time. However, when great granddaughter was born, it became obvious why quarters had ended.

Sister is back already and whether others accept the phenomena of reincarnation or not, no one can tell me different.

The baby looks exactly like my sister … same nose, same facial structure, same smile ……………… and born in the same hospital where sister passed away.

So, because Trainer is an old soul — thinks outside the lines, knows deep meaningful things without knowing how he knows them, it wasn’t at all unusual for him to surmise Security Guard might be my ex returned to body form, except guard is too old to be he.

The ex passed away in ’97, and though it’s difficult for me to guage people’s age, guard looks to be on the tail end of middle-age, too old to be ex because, if returned, he could be no older than 27.

Listening

A few days ago, Dkzody did a post about listening to the voice within.

Whether you call it God, Spirit, Soul, the Infinite, Instinct or Gut Feeling there is something that speaks to us.

So, when I got ready to head out this morning to get grocery shopping out of the way before the rains started again, I felt or heard that I should mask up, so I did.

It was a good thing I listened because, two people coughed directly in my face — first the casher then, as I was leaving, one of the managers caught me in the face as I turned a corner.

I already have a runny nose and the sniffles from being caught in the rain yesterday. Had I not had my mask on, I’d be in a complete panic right now as to what might be coming next.

Neither tried to turn their head or cough in their arm.

Who raised them?

So, anyway, while I was dealing with DMV on Tuesday, Management was throwing a Thanksgiving Celebration for the seniors.

From the photo the Talker provided, it looks like chicken with all the trimmings from El Polo Loco, and pies that appear homemade (the best kind) rather than storebought for dessert.

That’s two events in a row — Movie night on the 31st, and now Thanksgiving on the 14th.

Why Management didn’t have this closer to Thanksgiving — next Tuesday, two days before Management takes off for a 4-Day Holiday weekend, is a mystery.

At any rate, I hope the County thinks these events are worth approving the $500 increase.

Upstairs Lady, the resident who has problems with her legs, manages to walk by propelling herself side to side, said that some time ago, when she found out how much less the county units were going for, she applied to get on the county roll.

"I should be on the county, tried many many times" she said, but that the list was long and the buildings they offered her didn’t look like this one. They were in seedy rundown areas, were not well kept and smelled foul.

I believe her.

Many times I’ve said, though things are not perfect around here, there are worse places for seniors.

Returning from this morning’s market run, I see two residents, that did not decorate for Halloween, have already set up their Christmas decorations.

I realize not everyone loves Halloween as much as I do, don’t decorate, but decorating for Christmas before Thanksgiving is a little much.

I must admit though, seeing decorations going up is tempting me to do the same, but I’m holding out for the traditional Day after Thanksgiving.

I have, however, jumped the gun a bit — I'm drinking coffee from my Christmas cup, but only because I don’t have a Thanksgiving cup.

A funny thing involving listening happened as I was picking up mail after this morning’s grocery run.

Only it wasn't the still small voice talking, it was the resident you might recall saw me at Sprouts, gave me a hug like he knows me and we're best buds, which we are not.

I’ve seen him around for years and years, exchanged pleasantries, but hardly know him.

At any rate, he too was picking up his mail and, as I headed back to my unit, he began walking along side of me talking talking talking about nothing in particular.

I listened.

When he got to talking about how he's been recently working out, going to the gym five times a week, I was impressed but said "Five times a week is brutal. It’s like a job”.

"I’m feeling better already", said he.

"Good for you. It's important to stay active", said I.

"I’m a little sore on my right side, but I need to get strong because I’ve a girlfriend now".

"Get stronger and take some of those little blue pills" came out of nowhere.

Stunned him a little.

He stopped in his tracks with his talking talking talking mouth frozen wide open, but then laughed, said "Maybe" as we both headed off to our units, in different directions, laughing.

Every Day’s an Adventure

Doesn’t look like there’s any saving the patio plants. from the unrelenting rays of the hot sun, no matter how much water I give them.

I did manage, however, to harvest another little radish, which I added to a coleslaw I was making.

Other than that, I’ll continue watering, see what survives after the heat moves on ….. that is IF the heat moves on.

Hearing the news say it’s all due to Climate Change, I wondered ……… Climate Change or Prophecy? because I recalled something from my mom’s Old Testament teaching that, after the earth was cleansed of humanity by the flood, the Old Testament God said that, if we didn’t get our act together, next time he would scorch the earth — heat/fire.

Though I myself am not an Old Testament thinker, the thought is coming from somewhere.

Another thought that came to me this week was that a former coworker once told me, when unpleasant happenings would occur to her, she’d lament to her mom "Why me?", her mom would respond with "Why not you? Why somebody else?"

I remembered that conversation when I awoke on Tuesday morning, two days after that trauma filled Sunday, only to find blood in my right eye.

Then

So, why me? Why not somebody else?

Is it just my turn to experience a little of the manure that hitting the fan now days?

The eye looked so vampire creepy that the plan was, except for working out with Trainer, to hide myself away until the eye cleared up.

How is hiding yourself away from others except for training and the occasional bingo game, any different than your normal modus operandi, thought I.

So, learning it would be a good two/three weeks before the eye cleared up, it’s been business as usual with my brushing off the "what happened to your eye questions" with "I went to bed, stuff happened in my sleep, I woke up like this. Every day I get out of bed is an adventure".

I do wonder, however, if having pepper sprayed myself has something to do with the bloody eye which today looks to me like it’s already clearing up.

Now

I Read Books and I Know Things

Maybe it’s just me, but this last week has been the longest week ever, felt like it took forever for today, Friday, to come.

The good news is that, because I seemed to have more hours to each day of this week, a lot got done.

Along with my normal schedule of working out, blogging, running errands, needlepoint, scrapbooking, TV watching, playing Candy Crush and the hours and hours and hours spent on TikTok, I was able to finish reading Walter Mosley’s Every Man a King and got well into The In-Between by hospice nurse Hadley Vlahos.

Hadley, who started her career as a nursing intern in the ER, segued into hospice care and shares visitations/spiritual encounters she’s observed her patience experience in their final moments.

It’s a fascinating read — not sad but, inasmuch as I empath, I’ll be reading along, find tears running down my face and, at other times, I’ll be smiling and/or laughing out loud.

It’s definitely a book that makes you think and brought up from the memory vault a visitation dream I had in October of 2021.

I dream a lot a lot a lot, which is exhausting. I wake up tired more often than not and mostly, when I awaken, the dream escapes me, is completely forgotten.

However, there are times when, upon awakening, remembering every aspect of the dream, I immediately reach over for the pen and journal I keep by the side of the bed to write it down before it too disappears into the ethers.

Such was the case when, in 2021, I’d written "M came to me in a dream last night. He was still about 3 years old. I hugged him, kissed him over and over. There was also a lean white guy present. Gay. Fun. Said he didn’t drive his car. So, when time for him to leave asked if I could drive him to the pier to catch his boat back home. I said okay".

The journal entry went on to say that, for some reason, after agreeing to drive the guy to the pier, I decided instead to call him an Uber and that later, thinking back on the dream, I deduced the guy was a "Grim Reaper. A fun reaper."

It seemed logical to me that, if a Grim Reaper did come to take me away, it would be a gay guy because I’d not trust or feel comfortable with a straight.

For a while after the dream, I pondered what would have happened had I gone through with driving the Reaper guy to the "pier", then I forgot all about it.

Reading The In-Between is bringing it all back and has me once again pondering ...... Was his asking me to drive him to the pier my opportunity to exit out of here? What would have happened had I followed through?

Did I Get Played?

The Lunar New Year didn’t get off to a great start, what with the mass shooting a few cities over in Monterey Park, and plans to begin restarting my walking routine this morning also did not get off to a good start.

I’d awakened at 2:00 a.m. with stuff on my mind, didn’t get back to sleep until around 5:00, and slept until 9:30 with no desire to head out.

At any rate, one thing that popped into my head at 2:00 a.m. was a delayed "Did I get played?" reaction to an article on MSN I’d read two days ago.

The context of the article was … "Have you ever been in a strip mall parking lot, maybe outside a food store, and seen something like this guy passionately playing the violin for money. Perhaps they had a sign that tugged at your heartstrings; but they weren’t just playing any violin, it was an electric violin, amplified through a speaker. Well, there’s a chance that person was a faker, pretending to play the instrument and that sweet sound was just a recording. ICE recently arrested a 22-year-old from Italy who made $80 grand doing that over the last year …………… these scams have taken place all over the country. Police have put out warnings saying you need to be careful giving money to these scammers because they may not be musicians but they are certainly artists."

It wasn’t until early this morning when my mind went back to April, when I’d posted about the musical street performer I’d run into when exiting Sprouts Farmer’s Market, made a $20 cash donation to his box, because I’d enjoyed his playing and appreciated his hustle — using his talent to provide "For food, for living" as written on his donation box.

Did I fall for a scam? Did I get played?

It’s so difficult these days to know who to trust. Who is legit. What’s a scam.

I’d previously blogged about leaving Walmart and spying a woman asking for help with rent and food. She had a child with her, and I’d wanted to give to her but the flow of traffic had prevented my stopping. THEN, at my next stop I spied a man, with a child, holding up a sign with the exact same wording and handwriting as on the sign as the one I’d seen at Walmart.

Several of you commented at the time that they are all cons.

There is a group of three who work the area of the Pain Cave and the parking lot of businesses across the street — a woman and two males. I’ve seen them around for years and, more than a few times, have recently tried to capture a photo of the few times I’d spied all three together, to blog about their activities after having learned how much money they make.

I’d mentioned previously that Trainer is somewhat the same kind of sucker I am — melts and falls for it sometimes. He once gave the woman in the group a jacket from his car when he saw her out in the cold, gave her a hot soup cup to warm up and has gotten to know the two guys, who recently told him they make about $60 A DAY!!! in donations.

It's easy to see how people will feel sorry for the woman, walking around barefoot, barely clothed, give her cash — not knowing she’s pimping for the guys.

I’ve never gotten close enough — by choice, to see what’s on the signs the guys hold up, but sometimes one of the guy dresses in a uniform to pull heartstrings that he’s a homeless vet.

He may be; but $60 a day is a lot of money to con folks out of.

So, though I don’t know if I got played by the musician or not, I do know I won’t, in the future, be dropping cash into the box of street musicians.

Speaking of being played … Just as I was finishing this post, I heard the footsteps coming up the stairs followed by a knock knock at the door.

Oh No! thought I. Which, by the way, is telling in itself because dread is not a good reaction to have to a visitor.

I assumed Talker’s granddaughter just wanted to give me a hug, which she did. But then she stepped inside, began looking around and asked, "Where’s Sunny?"

OMG Bob!, you were right. She wanted Sunny back.

No problem returning Sunny but, just like that, my patience of accepting her knocking, giving me hugs, gifting me, and my tolerating it all because I did not want to hurt her feelings came to an end.

"You’re an Indian Giver" said I. "Do you know what an Indian Giver is?"

She did not, so I explained it to her.

"Okay" said she, as she calmly bounced on outta here with Sunny, LOL.

Grandma Talker looked helpless and embarrassed as she said, "She was just supposed to come up and say goodbye".

Talker thinks that, because granddaughter took to me so quickly that there is a deeper spiritual thing going on.

I can accept that and also believe that people are brought into our lives and we into there’s for a reason.

I also believe that though the Universe gives us these assignments with each other, we don’t have to accept each and every assignment. We can say no.

I've been patient, I've been kind because I didn’t want to hurt granddaughter's little feelings and also because, not to be cruel, but it has crossed my mind a few times that she’s so sweet and guileless because that’s the way she now is from that two-story fall that showed no "physical" damage, but my patience has come to an end. I'm opting out of this assignment.

I still don’t want to hurt her feelings, but I won't be accepting any more gifts from her and will be going so far as to not answer the door next time she knocks.

Talker will know I’m inside, but maybe think I'm too occupied to come to the door.

She'll eventually get the message, when I fail to answer often enough, and will stop granddaughter from coming upstairs for any reason.

Dropout

The weekend meditation retreat turned into an overnighter. I dropped out and am now back in my comfortable quiet little unit while class is still in session — doesn’t end until noon today.

Having developed (through years of study and working with enlightened teachers) the tools to handle whatever life throws at me without losing my shiz, I didn’t really need a retreat, but I’d nevertheless been looking forward to experiencing the rise meditating with a group of like-minded souls usually brings.

Then, just two weeks before I was to leave for the retreat, all hell broke loose in the area I’d be staying.

If you’ve been reading my blog for any length of time, you know I believe in signs.

First sign was the Coastal Fire that took with it homes in the upscale neighborhood of Laguna Hills; and when I say upscale, I mean waaaay upscale … mansions … price range $10 million and more.

It gave me pause that the fire was raging out of control only 9 miles away from where I'd be staying, and I watched over the days as it went from 15% to 25% to 70% contained whereupon I decided not to cancel the trip because it would be 100% by the time I headed out that way.

Then came the mass shooting at a church only 5 miles away from where I’d be staying.

I didn’t feel as though I’d be driving into danger, but I did speak to the universe to give me a clear yes or no if these were signs I wasn't to go since whatever was going on appeared to be getting closer to where I would be.

Then, just days before I was to leave, my credit card got hacked …. again.

The sums were minimal — $18 at Overstock, $13 at some Motor Club and my spidey sense told me it’s one of the girls at the new dental office making the charges.

She just didn’t expect I’d notice and be on it so fast, but no matter. I cancelled the card, will pay cash at this dental office in future, and had a new card issued, Fed Ex’d to me in time to not interfere with my plans and again spoke to the universe. Only this time, I asked the universe to do something specific, like flatten a tire, as a clear sign I was not to go to the meditation retreat.

Believe it or not, the morning I was to leave, the car alerted that the rear tire — that previously had a leak, was losing air again. So, on the way out of town I stopped at the tire place to double check. The tire guy said the car was giving me a wrong reading, the tire was fine so, instead of turning around and going back home, I kept going — drove to Laguna.

The weather was cold and dreary when I arrived and walking into the hotel room was like walking into a refrigerator.

Maintenance showed up, MacGyvered the A/C equipment to where it would put out heat but only with the fan running.

So much for a 5-Star hotel.

The hotel was fully booked, there wasn't a room I could switch to, so I had to tough it out.

First meditation session that evening at 7:45 was a raucous affair.

It was a much smaller group than I’m accustomed to ─ around 30 souls and they were a chatty group of elderly students so happy at seeing other students and old friends that they couldn’t contain themselves.

Some came from local cities ─ some flew in. One said he came from Florida, one from San Francisco.

I’m trying to meditate and it’s yakety yak as others asked where I was from. One guy introduced himself as Claire.

Seriously.

He said he wasn’t the only guy in his family named Claire. It was some sort of tradition to carry the name down through generations ─ though he said his grandfather flatly refused to call him Claire. His grandad called him Carl.

Fascinating, but I wasn't there for a meet and greet.

Protocol is when one enters the room, one is to be quiet, begin meditating, set the atmosphere for when the teacher arrives.

Most didn’t stop yakking until the teacher walked in. The mood had not been set, I was thrown off center from the yakety yak and, consequently, wasn’t getting anywhere once the teacher began meditating to lift us. I was stuck taxiing on the runway, when I should have been taking off.

Back in the room after that session, I had to contend with the droning of the fan and woke up Saturday with the beginnings of a sore throat from the heat level not being where I needed it to be.

At least the microwave worked, so I was able to feed myself before heading to the 10am session, where it was once again yakety yakety yak when there should have been silence.

The woman who’d arranged for the retreat asked everyone to please quiet down, meditate, set the mood as the teacher was to arrive in 15 minutes.

Most, not all, complied.

In addition to the unruly elderly students inside the room, there were also some unruly children running up and down the hallway.

As I closed my eyes and tried to block everyone out, center myself, I heard one of the kids in the hallway say, "Is someone dead?".

Evidently, he’d peeked in through the open door, saw what he interpreted as having to do with a funeral.

Opening my eyes, looking at the stage where the teacher was to sit, I noticed it kinda did look like a coffin, draped in a black cloth, old people sitting around.

With what the kid said and that image in my mind as the session began, my getting anywhere was again a lost cause. "Is someone dead" suddenly became funny to the point where I had to stiffle an out loud laugh and kept thinking I’ve got to get a photo of what the kid saw to post on the blog (which I did sneak back later, when few were around, and snapped a photo).

While my mind was wandering as a result of what the kid said, I remembered when I was sitting on the steps of a pool and it was so peaceful, so quiet that I began to meditate.

All of a sudden I’m snapped back to earth by the sound of a kid calling out to me "Excuse me Ma’am! Ma’am! Ma’am!".

"Yes?" I replied.

"Oh. Just checking. You weren’t moving so I thought you were dead".

When that incident came to mind, I had to once again stifle an inappropriate laugh out loud. Instead, I started smiling, grinning like the Cheshire Cat at the memory. If any of the students happened to be watching me at the time, they probably thought I’d reached the level of supreme joy in meditation, when in actuality my mind was actually a million miles away from the space we were in.

So, anyway, I survived Saturday morning’s session, which ended at noon and inasmuch as it was still cold and dreary outside, it was back to the hotel room — throat still sore and beginning to sniffle where I put in some reading time — finally finished the book I’d started on last year, and took a nap.

I did attend the 3:45 afternoon session, got a few takeaways to ponder, but never left the ground, spiritually speaking. So, heading back to the hotel room knowing there was no point to hanging around for this morning’s session and that if I spent another night in that room’s fan I was going to get very sick, I packed my bags, checked out and was back in my comfortable little unit where, after immediately gargling with warm water and vinegar to heal my throat, I was comfortably on the couch in time to see Midsomer Murders on the BBC channel.

BINGO!

Sitting through ten games of regular bingo, ending with an eleventh — a Blackout game (covering the entire card), a 2-1/2 hour adventure, turned out to be more exhausting than scrubbing tiles and shampooing the carpet.

The fact that I was the second person to win — call out “BINGO”, didn’t lessen the pain of it all.

Prizes were Easter baskets filled with candies and various useful items.

I chose the basket containing a loofa, moisturizer, socks, lady shaver, and a salon quality cushion brush.

Inasmuch as the only candy my gut will somewhat tolerate is See’s, and only two or three particular types of See’s candies, I gave all the candy in the basket to Talker to give to her granddaughter.

If I'd seen the hair brush at the time, I'd have given that to her as well, because it's not something I can use and will end up tossing.

Attendance was good. There were residents at every table, about 20 or so and, for one reason or another, only four of us were wearing masks. So, in a day or so if I feel funny, I’ll be using one of those test kits the government sent.

My former friend The Seer was in attendance … without the resident who previously followed her around like a little lapdog — the guy referred to in the blog as Shadow.

The Seer once again gave me that woeful look like she wanted to be friendly; but too late now, so I chilled.

As mentioned elsewhere in the blog, the Seer changed, went to the dark side when she hooked up with Shadow. She became bitter, overly sensitive ─ imagining slights where none were intended, critical and resentful of others and sometimey .... as in, sometimes she’d speak, sometimes she’d turn up her nose and ignore me, sometimes she’d cut her eyes and give me the mad dog treatment, and not just me, but all her former friends.

We’d been such good friends for such a long time that I ignored the behavior, gave her plenty of chances to cut it out until she used up all her chances and I just no longer paid attention to or even acknowledged her presence.

I never learned if Shadow broke up with her or if she broke up with him but, towards the end, I did see him hiding from her.

He'd been sitting out front having a smoke, in a location kinda towards the edge of the property where he couldn't be easily seen from the gate on his and her side of the property. When I saw the Seer come through the gate opposite to their side of the complex, I put two and two together and came to the conclusion she'd walked all the way around looking for him.

When he saw her see him, coming towards him, he looked seriously displeased and began waving his hands in a go away manner.

After that, he moved his smoking spot to further down the street, by the bus stop, where he couldn't be seen from either gate. So, it looks like he broke up with her. They now avoid each other like the plague, and she appears to be lonely for the old friends she can't win back.

In fact, she was seated at the big table with one of the meaner more unpopular residents.

Being seated at the big table I took as an invitation for others to join them, but none did. We all chose small 4-person tables elsewhere in the room.

Some relationship damage cannot be undone.

So anyway, there was a break in the 2-1/2 hours and food was served (egg salad sandwiches, chips, sodas, fruit salad, cupcakes baked by The Baker), none of which I could partake of, but yet and still ….. 2-1/2 friggin hours was exhausting.

A resident that none of us had seen before showed up for bingo and it was funny how many called the Talker over to their table and whispered "Is that her?"

The "her" they were asking about is that Karen character. Evidently, many have heard of the Karen, but few have actually seen her, want to see her and were curious if the mysterious woman who’d shown up was she.

It wasn’t she, but I did get some quite interesting tea about what Karen has been up to.

After all that hoopla about calling the cops on Talker for making too much noise, Corporate getting involved, Karen made yet another complaint — saying that Talker was disturbing her peace by exercising at 3:30 in the morning.

That’s the same hour, the girl downstairs complained to management that I was disturbing her peace "bouncing a ball" .... 3:30 a.m. So I laughed and said to Talker, "Sounds like they went to the same school of crazy".

Inasmuch as Talker had replied to the accusation same as I did, that "The only thing I’m doing at 3:30 is sleeping", and because it was an illogical accusation, Karen was told that if she made one more complaint she’d have to move.

Not relocate to another unit, but move out of the community.

That seems to have tamed the Karen beast but, what she does now is a number of weird things. One is she listens for when Talker comes down the stairs. Comes outside and says things like, "I just saw your blonde friend go by".

She’s talking about Jan, the pained rock lady. Who, btw, was present at bingo, and is not doing well, not at all.

At any rate, as for what Karen seeing Jan go by has to do with anything, the Talker doesn’t know.

Talker also doesn’t know what was meant by, one of those times Karen came out when she heard Talker coming down the stairs and said, "You might think of moving".

Is that some kind of threat?

For a while there, Jan was back to painting rocks and had placed a few in the patch of dirt in front of Karen’s unit — one saying "Love thy neighbor" another "Be kind", and a few Easter themed rocks.

Talker came downstairs and, of course, Karen — hearing her coming down, had stepped outside, whereupon the Talker noticed all the rocks were gone.

"What happened to the rocks" she asked Karen.

"I saw some woman take them" she said.

Talker said to me, "I knew she was lying, so we watched her and, sure enough, she retrieved them from where she’d hidden them and we saw her put ‘em back".

Last bit of tea I got was that Karen had been continuing to follow and spy on Talker (that's probably why she steps outside every time she hears Talker come out. So, she can follow her).

Well, one day Red Light happened to catch her following Talker, walked up to her, got in her face and said, "Stop following my friend. Get back in your unit. Leave my friend alone!"

Karen turned around and hightailed it back.

Talker thinks Karen is afraid of Red Light.

Probably has never had anyone get in her face, confront her before.

Good to know that’s all it takes. Too bad Talker can’t do it for herself.

I’ll leave you with a photo of us winners — those of us who scored bingo and got to choose a basket.

Woman seated on the right, in the bunny hat won twice — two baskets.

Here's a closeup of the cute bunny hat, which (photo) she allowed me to take.

Woman seated on the left is the one residents thought might be the infamous Karen, but is not. She won the Blackout Game, went home with the big basket.