Spring BBQ Potluck

All things considered, it’s been an exhausting week.

The school shooting is still in the news, and news vans are still on location, as is a police guard even though school is not in session.

I’m expecting more helicopters overhead today, because there’s a school tour at 4:00.

Plus, that 4-Vehicle Crash you might have heard about in the news Tuesday evening -- Would you believe that crash was just on the other side of the stoplight at the end of our complex?

Also, I noticed top to bottom burn marks on the big palm tree in the vacant field across from us. I’d assumed it had something to do with construction work going on in the field, but learned this morning that the upstairs corner across the quad neighbor had observed the palm fully engulfed in fire one evening, called the fire department and, by the time the fire department arrived, the heavy wind had blown embers onto the property and ignited the roof of the carport where I park my car.

She and her next door neighbor went out with a fire extinguisher, trying to keep it at bay and, when the fire trucks arrived, one of them flagged down a truck and the firemen stood on top of their truck and got the fire out before cars were damaged.

I’m within ear shot of the crash, didn’t hear a thing. Nor did I hear the palm tree fire commotion, which was just steps away from my patio window, not to mention the two neighbors involved are directly across from me.

Though I've been blissfully unware of the chaos swirling around me until I read about it, hear about it, see a posting on Facebook, get curious enough to check out helicopters overhead, it seems that chaos appears to continue to swirl closer in. I'm trusting the universe it won’t get close enough to actually knock on my door, touch my life on a personal level.

My personal life's challenges are small by comparison and only involve a whole lot of waiting.

Waiting to hear back from the optometrist that my new glasses are ready.

Waiting for the confirmation emails that the hardware ordered online has been shipped to store and is ready for pickup, so I can finish my medal board.

As simple as both required items are -- a 3/32 drill bit and picture hanging kit, none were available for just walking into a location, pick up and go. Everywhere I checked was "online ship to store or home only".

I wonder why?

Is it a loss prevention measure?

Four days as of today, and I’m still waiting for those confirmations.

The week has been so exhausting that I knew as far back as Tuesday that I wasn’t going to feel like getting up this morning and preparing a condiment tray for today’s BBQ.

After obsessing, for a day or two more about my having to do something as simple as slice a few tomatoes, onions, etc., I called the deli and ordered a condiment tray, aptly called “Everything on the Side”.

The tray was deemed "a most wonderful thing" at the BBQ which BBQ, by the way, was a huge hit – not because of the Activity Director, but in spite of her.

Dropping the tray off in the Community Room just before the event was to begin at 11:00, I’d walked into more chaos.

People were dropping off their contribution, seating themselves, the woman who’d signed up to man the grill was all set to go, but nothing was happening because the Activity Director walked in with no buns, no hot dogs, no hamburgers. In fact, she didn’t know a barbeque was scheduled.

How is that possible?

It was she who posted the sign-up sheet indicating buns, burgers, dogs would be provided for us, that we were just to sign up for side dishes, and the event was also posted on the Activity Calendar she herself prepared.

I really like the Activity Director as a person, but she can’t seem to get much right.

The woman has got to go.

Us residents were ready for a party, so there was talk of myself and a couple others heading to the market and picking up dogs and burgers for grilling when the Activity Director -- after first making the dog ate my homework excuse (her dog had been sick, throwing up, which doesn’t cut it because the calendar and sign-up sheet were distributed weeks ago), finally woke up, smelled the coffee as to another of her mistakes, and she herself set off to “pickup supplies”.

So, though we got a late start, the event was a huge success. Residents showed up who I’ve not seen attend an event in a long time. I counted over 50. There was music and some of the old girls got up to show they still had some moves in 'em. 

What a Difference a Day Makes

It’s taken almost five months for that bone spur in my left foot to heal.

Ready to get back into a walking routine, it was just this past Sunday that I’d tried the foot out at the University.

Everything was so peaceful and so beautiful that I’d posted photos to Facebook with the caption “Nice day for collecting Pokéballs. Hit up 27 stops, hatched a Shellder, added 3281 steps to fitbit and leveled up to 24.”

Shortly after, The Archeologist commented, “We were there earlier, used our lucky egg, got double points. Level 25 for us.”

The very next day all hell breaks out with helicopters overhead and, at 11:40, she posted a panicked, “Shooting at my kids’ school. Waiting”.

At 1:25 came the welcome news her children had been safely evacuated to the University.

Inasmuch as her husband works at the University, she and her children are known, so the news was accompanied with a photo, taken by a friend at the University, of the kids sitting in the bleachers, looking calm, eating a snack.

She and her husband were reunited with the kids at 3:50.

This is the third major world news event to have occurred in the area in the last two years, and the fact that those three happenings have been so close to my building, with the last one being only a mile away, and all three events involving people I know is mind blowing.

Is the Inland Empire really that small?

I don’t personally know many people, don’t even get out and about that often, yet the Blue Cut fire got right up to the cabin of a former coworker I’d become reacquainted with since our paths crossed at Trader Joe’s; that terrorist guy was the county employee who’d signed off on the pool license/certificate for this complex; and the elementary school shooting involved the children of the woman I’d met at the 2014 Spooktacular 5K.

As the elementary school was closed day after the shooting, The Archeologist posted on Facebook that she’d had the kids with her when she went shopping. A friendly store cashier asked if they were on spring break. The Archeologist said she leaned over and whispered that the kids were off school because they attend North Park. Her daughter heard and said "Me and my brother didn't get shot."

Heartbreaking.

She later posted photos of her family at yesterday’s memorial.

I’d thought about walking over but, after seeing the crowds and all the news cameras, was glad I didn’t. Now that things seem relatively calm, I may however walk over this afternoon.

I imagine the fallout will be husbands no longer allowed to come in contact with their teacher wives in the classroom, where children are present.

While I Was Crafting

With extra paint on my hands, leftover from the egg coloring party, thought I’d try my hand at making a metal/bib board.

Months ago, I’d commissioned the woman who made the first board to make a “Ditto” companion to the now overflowing “Celebrate Every Mile”.

She said she would, but that it would take her a couple months to get around to it.

After three months and no board, I cancelled the request and, when I was out and about picking up paint last week, I also picked up a board.

Decided today was the day to give it a go, I painted the board white, began decorating and lettering it free-hand and with leftover scrapbook supplies and images printed off the internet.

The board ready for hardware, I realized I needed a smaller drill bit (3/32) than was in my kit, booted up the computer to see where one would be available and learned there’d been a shooting at an elementary school in the area. I immediately thought it to be the school down the street, around the corner, over by Starbucks, where the wife of one of our residents teaches.

It was then I noticed the sound of helicopters.

Stepping out onto the patio, I spied three in the sky, two directly overhead, but they weren’t in the direction of the school I originally thought. It was the other direction, towards the elementary school over by the university … the elementary school the Archeologist’s son and daughter attend.

Heading to Facebook, I learned her children had been safely evacuated to the university.

Can you imagine the stress she must have been under until she got word?

And today is the Archeologist's birthday.

What the heck is going on in this city?

First it was the terror attack, then the Blue Cut Fire, now this … closer to this location than even the terror attack and fire.

Nevada is sounding better every day.

As far as the medal board, I had to order the drill bit and the picture hanging kit, so I’m stymied until those arrive, but the board is looking good, if I do say so myself.

For sure, I’ll never buy another board now that I know how easy they are to make.

The Aftermat

Apache sent me a photo of his completed shaving cream dyed eggs and they’re impressive.

However, I do wonder if he’d go through the mess again. For sure, I’ll go wooden eggs again, because they came out perfect and look great decorating the bookcase.

When Easter is over, I’ll mix them in with my rock collection.

My behavior towards Greedy Grabby at the coloring party is weighing on my mind.

I’m not a confrontational person, so my behaving so out-of-character was puzzling, until I remembered, besides her irritating actions on the two/three Pizza Days I proctored, there have been subsequent occasions.

One was Fat Tuesday, when I was passing out Mardi Gras beads.

I’d tossed her a string of beads, just like I did everyone else. She accepted, then reached into the beads I had in front of me, intended for others, saying, “I want this one and this one”, and walked off with two more strands.

I shrugged my shoulders and let it be.

Second occasion was end of last month, when we made Easter Wreaths at Arts & Crafts.

The Activity Director had us pose for a group photo after.

We, the group, decided we wanted two photos – one funny, with the wreaths around our faces, the second regular, just showing off our creations.

When the photos were developed, I noticed she'd posed the funny with the wreath not around her face.

Again, she had to do what she wanted.

And, again, I shrugged my shoulders, let it be, but now realize that subconsciously it must have been building up because, at the coloring party, when she manipulated her way into once again getting what she wanted, doing what she wanted, I couldn’t control my aggravation, disgust, decided I wasn’t shrugging it off any longer and said, “No, these are mine” when she reached and “I’m not giving you any” when she asked.

I’ll probably see her again at this coming Friday’s BBQ. The plan is to do my best to avoid, because I'm not done processing my negative emotions towards her, and I'm stuck at still not wanting to even look at her.

Hopefully, she won't try to engage but, if she does, I’m open to a sit down discussion. I just have to think of how to rephrase, “As a human, I find you irritating and disgusting”.

Coloring Party

Maybe it was too soon for me to come out of hibernation and mingle with the general public at today’s Egg Coloring Party.

My eggs came out great.

Apache tried the shaving cream method on his eggs with questionable results.

What Apache had to say was, “It looked a whole lot easier and neater on the internet”.

ROFLMAO!

At any rate, the event was fun, well attended, but I managed to lose my religion and tick off two residents in the process – one accidently, the other not so much deliberately, more like she aggravated me to where I just didn’t care.

The event was not hosted by management. It’s something The Baker sets up every year, right down to personally supplying the table cover, dye, decorations and tools. All she asks is that we bring our own boiled eggs.

I, of course, had my wooden eggs and craft kit.

Everything was in full swing, going swimmingly. THEN the greedy grabby woman from Pizza Tuesday showed up.

Of course, she showed up eggless and put on a poor performance of “Oh, do I go get my own eggs?”

It’s not like she and her husband are among the very elderly or of those in need, for whom we make allowances. It’s more like a greedy grabby princess, everything is about me, for me, the rules don't apply mentality. Her showing up eggless was her usual modus operandi, and the playing it off as an innocent oversight so disgusted me that I couldn’t even look at her.

Others at the table didn't see through the charade, were easy gullible prey and offered her eggs, which she cheerily accepted as she sat down adjacent to me.

I focused on my decorating.

Before greedy grabby arrived on the scene, I’d identified with another woman’s saying her eggs rotted last year because she didn’t want to mess up her decorating job and kept them around too long. I mentioned that being my reason for going wooden this year and offered her paint, a brush and one of my extra eggs. She’d accepted and went back to her spot at the far end of the table to work on it.

Once greedy grabby arrived, got eggs from others, helped herself to decorations, she then began looking around for what else she could get, spied my paint pens, reached towards them saying, “I want one of those”.

This is where my religion began to slip through my fingers.

I said, “No. These are mine.”

Something in my dead even tone caused her to freeze in mid-grab, consider for a moment, then say, “Oh, never mind.”

Shortly after, the woman working on the wooden egg walked back down and asked about decorating with gold flakes. I gave her flakes, sealant, a sealant brush and showed her how to apply.

Greedy grabby observed this.

After a time, greedy grabby said, “I want gold flakes”.

This was where my religion went completely out the door.

“I’m not giving you any.”

“What did I ever do to you? I’m never asking you for anything again.”

“Fine”, said I.

The rest of the event was me not paying attention to her, while she continued to try to engage. First by asking for something again … “Do you have scissors?”

I reached into my kit and, without responding or even looking up or at her, gave her scissors.

Then she tried to engage by showing me her finished eggs.

I looked up, nodded, went back to ignoring her.

I wasn’t being nice, I wasn’t being spiritually minded, but I wasn't being fake either. She’s just not my kind of person, I want nothing to do with her and we'll just have to let it be that.

So there’s that.

The other woman who probably will never speak to me again is an older deeply religious woman I’ve sat and talked with at several events. She brought up the upcoming Spring BBQ saying she wasn’t going to attend because meat is being served.

“I’m bringing my own turkey dogs” said I.

“That’s still meat” said she.

“Oh, you’re right; but they’ll be other things you can eat that aren’t meat”.

I was still decorating eggs, only half listening and, when she said something about it being “lent ... we're not suppose to eat", I said “I’m not catholic”.

No disrespect was intended. It just seemed the rational thing to say in response.

She got up and walked out. Didn’t even say goodbye to anyone.

Oh well. That’s two for two.

I’d better go back into hibernation until next Friday’s Spring BBQ, so I don’t tick off any of the other 167+ residents.

Once Bitten

After hibernating all day yesterday, I made a quick trip outside to take trash to the dumpster today, stop by the mailbox but, before I could head back inside, here comes next door neighbor on the way to her car.

“Are you going to color eggs tomorrow” asked she. “Yep, I’m all ready”.

Then she proceeded to bend my ear talking about the number of eggs she bought, how she only plans to decorate four; then something about having bought Easter baskets, grass and plans to either decorate the Community Room with the baskets or give them away.

I dunno the specifics. I was only half listening.

Then she went on all excited about the plans she has for the complex, the Community Room, yada yada yada, ending with yet again a plea for my suggestions, adding that all I have to do is give her suggestions, that I don’t have to be responsible for instituting those suggestions as a volunteer.

Yea, right. Color me skeptical.

I’ve heard that before.

Flashing back to when I worked at the law firm and a secretary I was not necessarily close to, but acquainted with, was retiring. Her friends were arranging a goodbye get together and asked if I’d like to be included.

“Sure”, says I.

Then it was, “If you can think of something fun for us to do, let us know.”

I thought about it, came up with a fun interactive dinner show that was in town.

Then it was, “Well, it’s your suggestion so why don’t you make the arrangements.”

I wasn’t strong and self-assured as I am now, didn’t know how to stick up for myself, so I ended up with all the coordinating duties.

So no, not this time. Once bitten, twice shy.

It is great, however, to finally see next door neighbor participating, being so enthusiastic, so happy. It’s taken her almost two years to work through being miserable at having ended up here at this simple level of living, with her Master’s Degree in Education, background of being large and in charge as a State Commissioner, being on the go, hanging out at fancy places, attending fancy events, hobnobbing with the rich and powerful.

Now that next door neighbor has taken on the role of Head of the Residents Activity Committee, has the Activity Director on speed dial, the Community Manager giving her carte blanche, she’s happily in her element again …. large and in charge, albeit in a smaller pond.

As far as my volunteering again or offering suggestions, let me just say ... I've made mistakes in my life, but I've learned from those mistakes and work hard to never make the same mistake twice.

So no, stop trying to suck me in.