Better Safe Than Sorry

Yesterday was out and about in the heat -- driving to one end of town to sever a 45-year relationship with a financial institution and driving to the other end of town to start a new relationship.

When questioned as to why I was breaking up with the 45-year relationship, I tried to be gentle – “I’m just moving things around.”

They suspected there was more to it and prodded and pushed until finally I had to say it … “I didn’t want to say this, but one too many scandals (a third having just come to light having to do with auto loans/insurance)”.

They tried to change my mind … “We’ve been in business for a long time and nothing has happened”.

“Yes, but now we’re finding out about all this stuff that’s been going on”.

“Well, the last was about auto insurance and your account wasn’t involved in that”.

“Yes, but it’s one too many scandals. Shows a pattern. I don't know what's coming next”.

“We’re solid. My parents have been with this institution for a long time”.

“I been here a long time as well, but I’ve lost money before -- the Enron thing and, at my age, I can’t afford to take chances.”

It was an awkward conversation, like breaking up with a boyfriend or hairdresser. But inasmuch as there have been consequences in my life for staying loyal to others rather than following my gut, I stayed strong in my resolve and severed the relationship -- but only partially, and not because of their plea to not go. The plan I had all along was to play it safe -- move what’s important, let stay that which is convenient, with the option to move that as well when it becomes no longer convenient.

Returning to the complex after the breakup, I popped into the Community Room to check on status of The Baker.

“She’s back”, said Apache. “You just missed her”.

“Oh, she’s walking?”

“No, she’s on her husband’s electric scooter. She on doctor’s orders to rest, stay inside, but she snuck out”.

LOL, that's The Baker. She can't sit still.

“Did they find out what was wrong with her?”

“Her potassium was low, and they’re running more tests”.

Today being Pizza Tuesday, I popped in to watch the escapades.

Activity Director didn’t show up, did not send a substitute, so The Seer, Apache, and two other residents took charge -- sending the maintenance guys out to pick up, then the four organized pizzas, had residents sign the sheet, made an announcement that “If you touch it with your hands, you have to take it” and it was game on.

Of course, Old Guy took advantage of Activity Director’s absence and took more than his share, but he didn’t open the boxes and handle the pizzas this time, so progress is being made in teaching that old dog new tricks.

All of a sudden, I look up and here’s The Baker on her walker.

She escaped again which, in a way is hilarious because her children took her car so she’d stay indoors and not drive, but she still gets out – whether by scooter or walker, she gets out.

At any rate, gave her a happy-to-see-you hug, as did most everyone in the room.

As to her medical issue … she’d had a blood test the week prior to being taken to the hospital by ambulance and everything came out fine on that test. Somehow, between then and the date of her collapse, her potassium level had dropped to 2 percent.

She thought, at the time, she was having either a heart attack or a stroke.

Now released from the hospital, she still has to go back and forth for more tests and has been cautioned to stay indoors, not get involved in any activities.

Seems nothing and no one can keep her from getting out, but none of us will let her get involved in doing activities, so no worries.

Right away, I start thinking I should play it safe, head to the market and load myself up on potassium rich bananas. However, I myself had a blood test on the 27^th of last month. Back in my unit, looking at the results, my potassium seems okay at 4.4. Sodium is a whole other story. I need to cut back.

At any rate, we’re all happy to see our favorite resident back.

A couple residents went to visit Jose the dog’s mom in rehab. She recognized them, asked, “Where am I? Whose apartment is this?” and then was in and out of lucidness.

Consensus is H is definitely not coming back. Now there is concern her troubled daughter will take her checkbook and rob her blind.

L, the resident that was caring for Jose, had a key to H's unit. She went so far as to actually go inside, take the checkbook, and gave it to the girls in the office asking they not let the daughter get ahold of it.

The office is trying to help but say they have no authority and can't withhold the checkbook from H's daughter forever.

It's just a bad situation and not much can be done to prevent her only relative of record from taking advantage.

The Purge

If my weekend was named after a movie, that would be its title – The Purge.

But unlike The Purge horror movie, the weekend did not consist of mayhem and murder – not that kind of purge.

Saturday was a complete bust. Because I woke up at 3:30 a.m., I didn’t feel rested. In fact, I felt drugged, kept falling asleep on the couch and didn’t really get up and start my day until 4:00 in the afternoon.

Sunday was the complete opposite. Waking just before 7:00, I was bursting with energy, and used that energy to purge the unit of stuff.

I just did an extensive declutter back in May. I haven’t brought in much of anything new, so I think what was still feeling like too much stuff is what I couldn’t let go of before.

At any rate, this time I purged and reorganized the hall utility closet, put up a new shower curtain liner, then set about tackling the bedroom closet.

As simply as I dress – tank tops, leggings, waist hoodie, Birkenstocks and athletic shoes in hot weather; long sleeve tops, leggings, waist hoodie, athletic shoes and boots in cold weather, it didn’t make sense to continue to clutter the closet with tops I’ve not worn in ages, blazers in every color, two animal print skirts, and a suit.

It makes sense to keep the skirts, the suit, the blazers in case I have to dress up for a special occasion. However, inasmuch as those special occasions only come around once every two or three or more years, the items don’t need to be hanging in the closet. In fact, the suit was purchased in 2009 and was worn just one time -- to the event for which it was purchased.

Would you believe the event was a Republican event … a Christmas Republican breakfast event with my Republican daughter?

I don’t like politics. Doesn’t matter what affiliation, I just have never liked politics. But I went because daughter needed my support so as to not be the only Black person in the room – which at that time was a frequent occurrence in the circles she travelled as Administrative Aide representing a well-known local Republican politician. She’d indicated that, at times, the other attendees not knowing who she was, why she was there, she was made to feel uncomfortable – sometimes unsafe.

Daughter made the right call inviting me to this Christmas event because, but for myself and daughter’s BFF, she would have once again been the only person of color.

I don’t remember any of the speeches … maybe because breakfast was an open bar with platters of crispy bacon. I didn’t have a serious gut problem back then, so I distracted myself from the speeches by stuffing my face with bacon and bagels, had a good time, and felt not out-of-place because, as they say, “Bacon makes everything better”.

At any rate, I so loved the suit upon first sight at Nordstrom’s that I didn’t think twice about paying what amounted to a small fortune for it. Of course, I expected to get my money’s worth in wear. It never ever occurred to me I’d not have another occasion that called for its wearing. Still, I’m not ready to give it up.

I can, at long last however, take it out of the closet, store in a container -- along with the skirts and blazers, to be brought out, sent to the cleaners, if ever needed again. Tops are heading to the Salvation Army.

Funny it is how one can form an emotional attachment to an article of clothing.

Safely tucked away in one of the containers is a pair of Jordache Jeans I wore back in the late 60's / early 70’s. Knowing I’d never be that thin again I at one time gave to my skinny granddaughter. However, feeling their absence, knowing she could never appreciate the significance a pair of  Jordache's had at that time in history when I'd worn them, I took them back.

It’s a process. Letting go is not only hard to do; sometimes, impossible to do.

Busy with sleeping on Saturday, purging on Sunday, I came in contact with no residents over the weekend, so no word on how The Baker is doing. I'm sure she's on the mend, however. Otherwise, I'd have gotten a call.

Movie Day

And yet again, tonight’s movie is an oldie – Skyfall, with Daniel Craig as James Bond.

I’ve seen it twice. Cried both times. The first time because I didn’t see the death of M coming; second time because the death of M was still emotional.

So no, I’ll wait for a movie I’ve not seen – one with a happy ending.

I can’t offer up my latest acquisition -- The Cure to Wellness, because I’ve not yet had an opportunity to view it to determine if suitable for old people.

Wonder Woman should be coming out December 31st. I’ve already pre-ordered the DVD, will offer it up for Movie Night and watch it along with the folks – wearing my Wonder Woman leggings.

Other than Movie Night, Pizza Tuesday, and the occasional Bingo, there’s not much on the Activity Calendar this month – Adult Coloring on the 22^nd, Ice Cream Social on the 29^th.

Counted cross stitch is my coloring book, and I can’t eat ice cream, so I’m out.

Unsure am I if fewer activities is because Next Door Neighbor/President of the Residents Volunteer Activity Committee was impeached (she says she quit) and no one is really running the show now.

I suddenly had a thought … though I seriously doubt impeachment, IF the orange guy in the White House does get himself impeached, he’ll spin it like Next Door Neighbor, saying he quit.

Next Door Neighbor is angry though. She walks angry and, as an empath, I can feel her anger coming through the walls of her unit into mine.

Hopefully the new doormat arrives soon, as I need that strong chi to block her mad-at-the-world energy.

Another reason for fewer activities may be because it’s so darn hot that we’re dropping like flies.

Jose the dog’s mom H has been moved from the hospital to a rehab facility.

That doesn’t sound like she’s coming back.

Her daughter has taken Jose to live at her home.

That REALLY doesn’t sound like H is coming back.

Also, we received word that F, one of our Community Room regulars -- who’d been taken to rehab four months ago, passed away.

And shocker of all shockers, not just to us regulars in the Community Room, but to the entire complex is that The Baker has been hospitalized.

She began feeling woozy on Pizza Tuesday at Bingo. I wasn’t present, but am told she asked The Seer to help her back to her unit. Once there, she told The Seer, “You’d better call an ambulance”.

No word yet, as to what happened and how she’s doing.

I Found It!

Noticed some time ago that I needed to replace the doormat.

At one time, the mat was in keeping with the tenants of feng shui (vibrant earth colors, emphasis on red), but exposure to sun, wind, rain, over a five-year period, turned vibrant into bland.

Thinking I might not be living here much longer, I’d tabled the purchase as something to be done for the new location. However, now that I’ve been assured relocation is not in my future, I set about getting a replacement.

I knew I wanted the exact same doormat, but could not remember where I’d purchased it. Further, the design having faded away, and my memory of what the design had looked like having also faded away, I wasn’t 100% sure what I was looking for but, knowing I’d recognize it when I saw it, I resorted to researching doormats on google image.

Who knew looking at doormats would cause so much laughing out loud.

There were a Breaking Bad doormat, Game of Thrones “Winter is Coming” mat, even a doormat based on AMC’s The Walking Dead’s slogan -- “Do Not Open; Dead Inside”. Huge fan that I am of that show, being as how this is a senior complex and there is so much real dying going on, I didn’t think it appropriate, not to mention it wasn’t colorful enough to provide the level of chi needed for the front door.

At any rate, it took some doing, over a period of days, but BAM! there it was. I don't think this one is an exact match for what I had before, but close enough.

On Sale @ $20 Off

So that’s ordered, on its way and done.

The purchaser only has seven remaining. I won’t need a replacement for another five years so, when the time comes, I may have to settle on a different design.

Unlike some of my neighbors, I don’t switch doormats to fit the season or holiday. However, after seeing this one, I’m thinking I may do so.

Starbucks, Donuts and Pizza

Yesterday was a good day for the seniors in the freebees department.

A health group enticed the seniors to an early morning breakfast pitch of their health plan with donuts and coffee; but not just any old coffee …. Starbucks!

Not wanting to hear the pitch or make myself sick by eating a donut, I deliberately arrived after the fact. Donuts were long gone, but there was still plenty of coffee remaining.

Then there was pizza delivery.

Activity Director wasn’t present. She sent a substitute to cover, who seemed young, but who handled her business very well.

First off, there’s always plenty of pizzas, but not as much chicken, giant cookie, bread sticks to go around.

Substitute decided it would be fair to allow not only just one pizza, but also one side (i.e., either chicken, a giant cookie, or breadsticks, rather than one of each). That way, she correctly rationalized, the sides would not run out before everyone had an opportunity to get at least one of the three. Once everyone had an opportunity to get at least one of the sides, she said it was open season if there were extras.

There was no “you have to be on the lease” this time around and no lining up. Substitute called folks up to the table, one at a time, in the order they’d signed on the regular sign-in for pizza sheet. Once a resident was called up to the table, Substitute asked, “What kind do you want?” and handed that choice to them – thereby eliminating the food handling problem.

No one was disrespected, treated like a child and most everyone was happy -- the only exceptions being Old Guy and the Greedy Grabby woman, both of whom operate from the standpoint of rules not applying to them.

Greedy Grabby, seeing this young person in charge, thinking she could walk all over her, ignored the “one side” rule and grabbed chicken, a big cookie and breadsticks to go with her pizza, then ignoring Substitute’s plea to “Take one side, please”, took her loot, sat down, and waited for the open season phase to get more.

When Substitute gave Old Guy the pizza he requested, he did his opening the box thing, inspecting/handling the pizza, then shook his head no, to indicate he didn’t want that kind, pointed to another, attempted to put the one he’d touched back in rotation. Substitute put her foot down … “No! You handled it. You have to take it.”

Old Guy moved to ignore her, but she pushed the pizza back towards him and repeated “No! You have to take it.”

I was so proud of her that I went up to and commended her. Others began to clap for her.

After all was said and done, having gotten away with taking what she wanted the first time, when the table was open to take what was left, Greedy Grabby moved to open a pizza box.

Substitute said, “What kind do you want?”

“I’m trying to see”, said Greedy Grabby.

Substitute got firm and said “No! What kind do you want?”

Greedy Grabby didn’t like it, she tightened her lips, but with all eyes on her, after having seen the Substitute praised and clapped for when she’d put Old Guy in check, Greedy Grabby finally said what she wanted and Substitute handed it to her.

I’d like to say Old Guy and Greedy Grabby weren’t themselves. That all that caffeine in Starbucks sent them over the top.

That would be a lie.

Those two are always of the entitled mindset.

And that’s it for another episode of Pizza Tuesday.

Later in the afternoon, the skies opened and we had a flash flood.

Last five days, I’d been startled several times during the day by sudden loud shrill flash flood warnings, and nothing happened. We get a flash flood yesterday afternoon, and not a single warning.

Go figure.

Fire on the Hill

We had a fire yesterday afternoon.

I only learned of the fire when my Facebook friend, The Archeologist, posted “Our hill is ablaze”.

“I don’t hear fire engines. They usually pass my complex”, said I.

“It’s in Waterman Canyon” said she.

So outside I go to look in that direction. Sure enough, I could see the fire was in a location trucks could not go, which accounted for no sirens, but helicopters quickly appeared and four/five drops later, it was out.

While outside, ran into neighbors and learned Jose the dog’s mom was transferred from the hospital, where she’d been placed on IVs to another, where she is said to now be stable and eating. A good sign.

No idea as to what befell her, but it appears she’s on the mend and will be returning.

She’s fortunate and the exception to what around her seems to be the rule because, generally speaking, once the ambulance takes one of our very elderly residents away, that’s all she wrote -- we never see them again.

Jose is being cared for and walked by a neighbor.

And so we come to today … another Pizza Tuesday.

My wake-up call this morning is thunder and lightning.

Hopefully it’s not an omen as to what today’s senior activities will look and sound like.