Bring Your Own Cup

Read somewhere yesterday that, today and tomorrow, 7 Eleven is running a Slurpee promotion called “Bring Your Own Cup”, where you bring big containers, load up all the Slurpee you want and pay a flat rate of $1.50.

After checking out the promotion online, and getting a kick out of the kinds of “cups” folks were bringing, I figured why not join the fun. Especially since my Clean Eating Program hasn’t been all that clean lately.

I looked around the cupboard and had the choice of two water bottles.

Not wanting to take advantage -- though it looks like many are ... because it's part of the fun, I settled on the smaller.

Once back at the complex, I checked into the Community Room and learned ten residents stuck around after the potluck and attended the Residents/Management meeting.

Once again, Nurse Ratched’s kleptomaniac boss was supposed to have shown up, but did not. As for what was discussed, all anyone would say was “more lies”.

Glad I took a nap instead.

Though I processed that sense of rage fairly quickly, I'm still processing the loss of my favorite belt in that I'm kicking myself for not at least going to the police department to see if I could have filed some kind of paperwork. Not that I expected anything to be done but just for the record in case I see her wearing the belt, she says it's hers, I say it's mine, as a form of proof.

It was a few weeks ago when I’d posted we must have a nest around here because I’d been seeing wasps on the overhead by my front door. Sure enough, Maintenance Manager stopped by this afternoon, look around and the nest was closer than I thought

Orange Circle Marks the Spot

On my own patio … practically on top of me each and every time I opened the door to the patio storage area.

Maintenance Supervisor quickly snatched it down with his own hands (Was I impressed? Yes. Absolutely), tossed it away and sprayed the area as an extra precaution.

Now knowing the nest was over my head when I opened the patio door, day before yesterday to retrieve craft supplies, I’m very creeped out.

Spring … when bees, lizards, birds, wasps, other species of Nature's creepy crawlies come out to play, not my favorite.

Two Birds One Stone

Yesterday’s after the potluck “nap” lasted five hours. I passed out on the couch and didn’t wake up until 7:00 p.m.

I couldn’t have attended that resident/management meeting if I’d wanted to.

It was off to the dealer this morning for regular service on the car. Consequently, I didn’t get any feedback on whether anyone attended the meeting and, if so, what was discussed? It’s doubtful I’ll get any feedback tomorrow either, as it’s my day to chauffeur granddaughter around. I’m hoping to have nowhere to go, nothing to do on Friday, so I can have a moment to check into the Community Room, before it shuts down for the weekend.

I did learn, at yesterday’s potluck, that the new business across the street, towards the opposite end of the complex, isn’t a bar … it’s a marijuana dispensary … a pot shop!

Sounds unsavory, and it’s sure to send the seniors who enjoy complaining into hyperspace but, the way the owners have fixed up the property, it looks to be more high-end to me than other pot shops I’ve seen around town, and the fact the owners have added a high fence and the property is located out-in-the-open, on a main street, I don’t expect the shop to be noisy or attract problems.

Where I have the car serviced is right behind the Ontario Convention Center. I figured it to be a good place to qualify in the virtual Peter Cottontail 5K. So, instead of sitting on my butt in the dealer’s waiting room, I walked around the convention center a few times, logging in 3.26 miles @ 1:20:46.

By the time the 5K was completed and I returned to the dealer, the car was done, sitting over to the side waiting for me.

It was a pretty area to walk.

Interesting sights.

I ran into the Los Angeles Police Department setting up a Memorial Wall.

I was going to take a photo of my ex’s name to send to his/my girls, but a helpful officer -- one of two setting up the wall, informed that, because the ex died in retirement, he wouldn’t be listed. The wall is only officers whose End of Watch came during active duty.

All in all a good day. The dealer didn’t pad the bill, the 5K is done, and I hope to not be tempted to sign up for another for a long while.

Green Eggs no Ham

As planned, up early this morning, eggs boiled, peeled, dyed even before breakfast.

The eggs gave me no hassle -- only two failed to peel pretty. The others practically peeled themselves.

The two bad eggs turned into breakfast.

I’ve never worked with food color before so, while the eggs were resting in the refrigerator, I read the instructions printed on the box, removed bottle from box, noticed a protective seal under cap, removed said protective seal, and this happened.

A Green Thumb for Real

Fortunately, it wasn’t permanent.

Needless to say, I wore food service gloves remainder of the process.

An avid rule-follower, I always wear gloves when preparing food for others; sometimes even preparing food for myself, as I don’t like touching meat. Even though it’s only ever chicken or turkey, I can’t bear to touch raw meat.

Inasmuch as I can’t count on fellow residents being as food-safety minded or phobic -- depending on how you see my kitchen habits, I only eat what I bring to potlucks, deli items and what The Baker brings.

Later in the morning … We were ready for our close-ups.

Not everyone wore green, but we had a fair-sized group, around 24, and quite a lot of potluck dishes.

The Green Team

Corn Bread, Potato, Cabbage, just a smidgen of Corned Beef, Macaroni Salad

At end of meal, the Activity Director began making announcements.

First announcing this is her last day; she's taken a position elsewhere.

No one was surprised. If anything, the surprise was she’d lasted as long as she had.

Her leaving means an end to the Casino Trips and, unless management finds another victim, activities are also at an end – except those we organize and do ourselves, which we sometimes have done.

Second announcement was last week’s Resident/Management meeting – the one scheduled for 3:00 that we arrived on time for but were told at 3:10 the meet was cancelled, yes that one. She said it’s been rescheduled for 3:30 today.

Looks like management will be the only ones to show up this time, which is what we figure they're counting on. It’s a clever ploy to give management an excuse to get rid of resident/management meetings altogether. 

Because there was no notice of rescheduling -- except to those of us at the potluck, and since we’re all full, need naps and have no intention of attending this afternoon’s session, management will tell Corporate there is a lack of interest on the part of residents and that will be that.

Apache said he “might” stop in, "just to aggravate" Nurse Ratched, but he wasn’t sure.

I asked that, if he does, to give me a call if Nurse Ratched’s boss is wearing a belt with a rhinestone American flag buckle.

“Sure, but why?”

“Because …” and I told him the story of the belt going missing after she’d gone into my back room.

“That’s weird” says he.

“Why?” asked I.

“Because someone else told me something went missing during their inspection”.

Slow Burn

Had an epiphany moment this morning.

I had a sudden realization that I am slow to burn, but once the burn hits, I become angry and have a hard time letting go.

My mantra -- when there is an upsetting incident is … everything happens for a reason, it’s done, there’s nothing you can do about it, let go and let God.

That generally works.

However, since retiring, with time to think, time to reflect, there are things in life I’d shaken off but it’s like they’re attached to elastic -- they were out there, had only gone so far and now spring back.

I’ve been very happily divorced some 48 ½ years. My physically emotionally mentally abusive ex has been dead and gone since ‘98, yet there are more times than I care to admit when I see something on television or read about something or hear about something that brings up a flashback, it all comes crashing in on me, and I’m angry – partly at him for the saying/doing -- wishing he were still alive so I could cuss him out, partly at me for not fighting back, not speaking up.

So it was yesterday when, getting dressed in the morning, I walked into the closet, looked over to where my favorite belt use to be, saw the empty space and became filled with rage.

Part of the rage was directed towards Nurse Ratched’s kleptomaniac boss for taking it … and yes, I’m sure. There’s no traffic coming in/going out of my unit, the belt was at eye level and she is the only person to have been in that back room, which is why part of the rage is directed at myself for being so trusting, for not paying attention, for having not known there was no reason for her to go INTO the back room.

The room is so small, she could see whatever it was she needed to see for her inspection by standing in the doorway. Why did I not realize she’d not only entered the back room, but was actually in the closet?

She can keep the Polishing Unit of the Spa Sonic Skincare System, it’s easily replaced; but the belt is unique and has been my favorite for more years than I can remember.

It’s the loss of that belt that’s burning.

Being an emotional eater, making my own coffee this morning just wouldn’t do, so I headed to Starbucks, with a stop by the donut shop for a sugary apple fritter to calm me down.

Sugar is not the answer, but it’s better than a lot of other substances people use to cope.

It’s Not Easy Buying Green

You wouldn’t believe the hassle it was to get my hands on a 1-ounce bottle of green food color.

When I rechecked the calendar yesterday afternoon, I realized the Saint Patrick’s Day potluck was scheduled for Tuesday the 15^th, not Thursday the 17^th as I’d previously thought; so I headed to the market for eggs and green food color.

Eggs … no problem, except they may be too fresh.

Green food color … problem.

The market did not sell, nor did the next market I ran to, nor the next; so I turned to the internet and asked “where can I buy food color”.

“Nowhere”, replied the internet. I’d have to order online, it would be shipped and received well after it was needed.

My favorite online retailer could guarantee delivery of a 16-ounce bottle costing $12.00, but shipping and handling would run the tab up to $39, and I’d get it a week late, rather than the two/three-weeks late elsewhere.

HOWEVER, if I signed up for Prime at $99 a year, I’d get free two day shipping.

Total cost for $12 item, plus Prime — $111, and still arriving three to four days later than needed.

BUT, I could add $4.50 for one-day shipping.

Total cost of $12 item, plus Prime plus one-day shipping — $115.50, still arriving too late for my need, but by only one day.

Green guacamole, even though it didn’t seem to fit the theme, was beginning to sound better and better.

In bed at 10:30 last night, I couldn’t sleep for thinking thinking thinking – what else can I bring?

Then something said … wait a minute. While running here, there, I vaguely recall seeing food color on store shelves … don’t give up, keep looking.

So I jumped out of bed, logged onto the puter, looked at places I’m usually running through.

Sears — online only
Joanns — online only
Michael’s — online only
Hobby Lobby — online only

I began the search earlier in the day with Walmart and Target, but decided to recheck.

Walmart — still online only
Target — available at five locations in the Inland Empire

So why didn't you, Mr. Internet, say so hours ago when I first asked?

My preference of Redlands was sold out. So I added Target Fontana, 16 miles away, available for pick up today, to cart.

Cost of transaction — $3.14.

Food color in hand, all’s well that ends well; but such a weird boatload of hassle.

I’ll test a few eggs tomorrow, just to be sure they won’t give me grief, then I’ll be up early Tuesday -- boiling, peeling, tinting, deviling eggs.

If the eggs do give me grief, I’ll be deli guacamole or deli potato salad for the folks.

There Goes the Neighborhood

I was a walking fool this morning.

After logging in the qualifying 3.20 miles, in 1:13:39,  to earn a medal for the Virtual Run Like a Ninja 5k -- only, instead of running like a ninja I walked it like a snail, it was so nice outside that I kept walking until I hit the 4.0 mile mark.

Next up is the Peter Cottontail 5K week after next so, between then and now, it will just be short stints around the complex towards that goal of 100 miles by year's end.

A few days ago, I noticed a lot of activity in a building across the street, next to the field where Tent Guy use to live, that’s been vacant since I first moved here. The building looked to have been a church at one time, so I assumed it would be a church again.

Not!

I captured a photo, on this morning's walk, of what appears to be a bar.

Across from a senior complex?

I don't think so.

Very little bothers me but, with nothing much to do except complain, it seems everything bothers most of the residents.

In fact, we use to have a bar adjacent to my end of the complex, next to the donut shop.

Since I’d not been on that side of the street, or anywhere near the donut shop (until recently when my sugar addiction has sometimes been out of control -- they have great apple fritters), and since the sign on the establishment said “Cleopatra’s”, I always thought it was a dress shop. Then I began hearing neighbors complain about how noisy the bar across the street was at night.

My response was always, "What bar?" until Casino Lady pointed it out and said she’d called the police numerous times about the noise and young guys fighting in the parking lot.

Others complained of hearing the noise and seeing police activity, as a result of noise complaints by residents.

I never heard a thing.

Even my next door neighbor complained of the noise and hearing shots fired one night.

I didn't even hear that, even though turns out it was someone being shot and killed with a rifle, which residents said was a loud BOOM! Police and ambulance were  observed, it happened during a time I would have been awake, watching television, still I never heard a thing.

Of course, the bar having already been on notice because of the complaints, was forced to close its doors permanently after that incident, and neighbors were once again happy with having peace and quiet at night.

A bar opening now, on the other end of the complex, isn’t going to go well.

So tick tick tick on how long before they complain until it too is forced to close.