Still A Mystery

During the week, one of the tv stations did an update on the guy that left a human jawbone at the PD.

Bottom line … it’s still a mystery, a closed case mystery for now.

Yesterday was Bingo Friday. The Black Witch graced us with her presence.

If you will recall, the "Black Witch" is the long-time resident who joined us in October, bullied Red Light, then tried to bully me.

I can’t abide a bully, so we got into it with me threatening to make a voodoo doll and putting a curse on her.

She either decided not to risk the voodoo curse, or maybe it was because I stood up to her and she’s not accustomed to that, but either way she made a point of staying out of my way yesterday. Instead of sitting with her best friend in the complex, who was seated at the table next to mine, she chose to sit at the opposite end of the room.

Honky dory fine by me because I was prepared to take up where we’d left off had she’d started any of her nonsense.

My little Knock Knock also was in attendance. Walked in with Grandma Talker and though looking dead at me managed to control herself.

Evidently, Talker has given granddaughter instructions to give me some breathing space, look but don't touch.

Little Knock Knock now needs to have that same talk with grandma because, making the rounds, Talker stopped at my table, chatted me up and snuck in a hug before heading off.

Occasionally, as games were being played and in between, I saw little Knock Knock turn around in her chair to look at me, see what I was doing.

What I was doing was pretending not to see her looking, avoiding eye contact so as to not encourage her to run over.

At one point during the break, while grandma was otherwise occupied and grandma’s best friend in the complex, seated with them, wasn't paying attention, I heard little Knock Knock say, "I’ve got to show Shirley" and she ran over to show me the goodies she’d scored at the desert table.

I made the appropriate oohs, awes, and she skipped away happy.

Food served at the break were cookies, cupcakes, strawberries dipped in chocolate.

I’ve been off strawberries ever since seeing that TikTok video, but it looked so delish that I took a chance, and my gut was doing okay with it ….. until someone said the strawberries had been purchased at Walmart and Red Light had dipped them in Ghirardelli chocolate herself whereupon my gut began to rebel.

I knew it was more a mental reaction than a gut episode because the thought of eating food purchased at Walmart creeps me out — for no reason other than it just does, and I’d vowed never to eat anything coming out of Red Light’s unit after that time I saw how dark and depressing her kitchen was. Once I processed what I’d just been told, realized my gut was reacting not to the strawberries but the information, I told myself it was psychosomatic, not real, and my gut immediately settled down.

Once again, I won not a single game, just like last time and the time before, but it occurred to me the reason why is that our bingo has become so popular that the room is now packed. If you don’t arrive early, chances are you’ll be scrambling for a seat, which is great the event is going so well.

Flip side is that with so many in attendance, odds of winning goes down. I’m frequently one number away on multiple cards when someone else yells BINGO!

Activity Director’s Tuesday bingo games are not going as well. Red Light and Baker are still trying to help AD out by encourage residents to attend.

The ladies tell me AD is supposedly hosting a Valentine’s Day Party next Tuesday.

I’m not trusting it to be a party, but not wanting to miss a good one if so, I said I’d casually walk by, peek in the door and, if it looked to be the dud I expect, I’ll just keep moving.

Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

So this happened.

I’ve been dealing with tremendous guilt for freaking out at being coughed on, frightening my little stalker. Pretty sure she was now too scared to knock on my door, but equally sure I’d see her around, I felt so guilty that I planned to apologize for scaring her and, when I popped into the market after yesterday’s workout, I picked up a little sumthin sumthin to go along with the apology.

Didn’t take long for me to "see her around" because, returning from the market, just as I pulled into my parking spot, she and Grandma Talker pulled into their spot next to mine.

Talker said they were returning from the doctor’s office, where granddaughter had gotten her allergy shot.

I guess this was Talker’s way of letting me know the coughing wasn’t cooties, but allergies, nothing I needed to worry about.

But tell me this … Are allergy sufferers given shots? I may have misunderstood, she may  have said "medicine" instead.

At any rate, granddaughter looked afraid of me, was kind of hiding behind a pillar, but came out when I said I was sorry I freaked out and asked, "Do you forgive me?"

She said yes, LOL.

I then asked that she follow me upstairs because I had something in one of the grocery bags for her.

Grandma Talker made her mask up (so I wouldn't freak out if she started coughing again???) and she followed me up the stairs where she seemed pleased, said "No way" and gave me a hug when she saw what I had for her.

I’m back to being hugged again.

Two steps forward, one step back, but at least my guilt has abated, my conscious is clear, and I think she does now understand, or at least will be hesitate, to continue with the knock knock knocking at my door.

Dressed for warm weather today, because that’s how the sunny weather made the day appear, I was halfway down the stairs, on my way to the college campus to test out the crazy glued trekking poles, when I realized I’d been duped. It was actually chilly and a little too windy to be out walking.

Since I was outside, I decided, though it’s nowhere near Easter, to go hunting for eggs because, when I’d popped into the market after yesterday’s workout, I’d found tons of eggs at the reasonable price of $4.99, but they were the cage free store brand and I’m spoiled. I prefer Eggland’s Best Organic.

First stop was the market in the opposite direction — the one I’ve been avoiding because the kid that works there, who doesn’t even know my name, refers to me as "The nice one" had gotten a little too friendly and invited me to a party at his house.

I lucked up. He wasn’t there … in fact, it didn’t look like any of the cashiers were there. I only saw one and the other stations had been converted to those self-checkouts.

Did they fire everyone else … lay them off?

I keep seeing on the news that there’s a hiring surge "U.S. adds 517,000 jobs, Unemployment Drops to 3.4%". I’m calling B.S. on that because, how can it be true when so many are being replaced by self-checkouts and even tech companies are laying off.

So, anyway, I did find Eggland’s Best. They only had 3 dozen at $8.99 in stock. That’s twice as much as the store brand at the other store, but the heart wants what the heart wants, so I took two of the three dozen.

Back at the complex, I spent the afternoon working on that needlepoint project while catching up on recorded TV programs.

I’d seen the finale of Worst Cooks in America, missed a few episodes in between, but this season had been the best season ever, the group of contestants so stupid hilarious that I watched the recorded episodes I’d missed.

While doing so, I noticed a shirt one of the contestants was wearing matched a 12x12 sheet of scrapbook paper I had in storage.

What do ya say?

I say it's a dead ringer.

If by some odd set of circumstances our paths should ever cross, I'll give him the sheet. He can use it as background and frame the photo of himself wearing that shirt.

Third Time is Not the Charm

Other than forgetting to take Blood Pressure medication two days in a row, waking up on Sunday to a reading of 166 over something or other, it was a great and productive weekend.

Saturday’s weather was perfect for walking, so I suited up, headed to the college campus to log in a few miles, test out the collapsible trekking poles — the third set I’ve purchased.

Finding something wrong with the first two sets — one had a joint locking issue, the second set was meant for short people and could not be adjusted to my arm height, not wanting the hassle of returning, both had been tossed in the trash.

The third set — the current ones, everything snapped into place per the diagram, so I assumed everything was hunky dory fine.

It wasn’t.

Third time was in no way the charm, because the collapsible poles kept collapsing on Saturday’s walk.

Is it me … Am I doing something wrong? thought I. This being the second set with locking issues, I began to think I was not connecting and tightening properly.

Looking at a few YouTube videos later that day, I couldn’t find anything I'd done wrong.

At any rate, where there’s a will there’s a way so, not wanting to waste money on another set, I decided to change the collapsible trekking poles to non-collapsible by crazy gluing all the joints.

Sunday’s weather was a lot less inviting than Saturday’s. It rained, so outside was wet and gloomy. Testing for staying locked, with crazy glue, will have to wait until outside is once again inviting.

After getting the BP down to 135 on Sunday, by taking the medication, passing on coffee in lieu of Saffron Tea, the day was spent catching up on recorded TV programs and crafting — mainly scrapbooking.

My personal Album is not only caught up but completed. Photos of activities I participated in last year are in the book — like Spa Day with my girls, The Mission Inn 5K, Halloween Costume parties here at the complex, my trip to Long Beach for Thanksmas. The last page ends the book with a fun little thing I did with the photo of Genie and I at bingo wearing outfits that could mix and match.

Somehow it felt like a fitting end — a place to end scrapbooking altogether, something I've been thinking about for a while because my scrapbooking no longer seems relevant.

Who but myself cares what I did in photos last year, the year before that, the year before that, so on and so forth.

With the family so fractured, no one talking to and/or getting along with each other, what’s the point with being the historian of sort. I've got all these albums of my life raising my girls and after; and I did all those albums of the grandkids growing up and, in someone's storage area, there's even an album or two of my mother's life, with photos of my now deceased brothers and sister and I when we were kids, but who now is around to care? Who's going to be around in future to care?

There's not enough crazy glue in the world to put this fractured family back together and, with everyone living their lives so differently, I'm not so sure it should be put back together — the theory of "Leave Well Enough Alone". However, the point is .... for whom am I continuing this scrapbooking thing?

No one cares.

No one is going to care.

As what's left of this family begin to die off, including myself, it's highly likely the albums will end up in a dumpster like Bonita's did.

So, this book is the last I'll do of my adventures.

The end page, where the video cuts off, is the fun thing I did with a photo of Genie and I at bingo wearing outfits that looked like they were meant to mix and match.

I titled the page "Genie and Shirley Paper Doll Cutouts", turned us into paper dolls and switched the outfits around, just as one would do with paper dolls.

The great grandson, now some seven months old, already has two albums so, when the one I'm currently working on (see cover page below) gets filled, it too will be the last I'll do of his adventures as well. I don't want to repeat what I did with the other kids — make a kazillion albums that eventually become no longer relevant.

In other news, after the police department posted that the body parts guy they were looking for had been located and identified, it was radio silence, no further information.

That kinda sucks to get us invested in this story — like who is this guy, how did you find him, where did the body parts come from, and then nothing; but I'll keep an eye out for further updates on the PD's page.

Incognito

Catching a glimpse of my little Knock Knock running around this afternoon, just in case my freakout over her coughing didn’t scare her away, I went on high alert — closed all the blinds to make it appear I was not inside.

Of course, the jeep is parked in its spot, but that doesn’t mean I'm not out walking somewhere.

I also put a mask by the door should she return and I, once again, chickened out on hiding/not answering.

However, it wasn’t one of my many glamour pandemic masks, but one of the holographic face shields I purchased from Mask Guy during the height of the pandemic.

If the freakout didn’t scare her away, a glimpse of this surely would.

During this morning's workout, Trainer asked if I’d seen the police bulletin. They were looking for a man that had dropped off human remains at the PD.

I’d not heard of the bulletin but, though interesting, nothing surprises me anymore. I just said, "People are getting sicker", and that was that.

Seated in the car after the workout, I saw a guy walking down the street with a machete in his hand.

Again, though it's not something I see every day, it was nothing that surprised me. However, I grabbed my phone and tried to get a photo for the blog.

I take a lot of photos everywhere I go. I mean a lot a lot. Most end up in the trash folder, but I take them just in case they turn into a blog post.

I wasn’t fast enough to capture the guy’s face, and the machete didn’t show up in the photos I took. So, I drove in the direction the guy was headed to try to capture him better, but he’d walked through the gas station and disappeared out of sight. Probably into the storm drain (I think that’s what you call those big deep concrete tunnels in the ground), where a lot of homeless in the area live.

Returning to the complex I thought no more about it. Almost deleted the photos because I didn’t get his face or the machete.

Later, I logged onto the laptop and looked for the bulletin Trainer was talking about.

There was a photo of the guy the PD was looking for.

The caption read "The man allegedly tried to put what appeared to be deceased animal remains and a lower jaw that resembled a human at the front desk of the San Bernardino Police Department station located on N. D Street. Officers attempted to locate the man outside of the station after he left, but were unsuccessful in doing so. After examination by the San Bernardino County Coroner's Office, the jawbone was determined to be that of a human. As they search for their man, officers are describing the man between the ages of 30 and 35 as 5' 7" tall, weighing around 160 pounds with black hair and a full beard and mustache".

The photo on the bulletin reminded me of the guy with the machete. Though I had no face in my photos, there was just something about how he carried his body — shoulders slumped. Also, the pants in the PD photo looked similar or the same as pants the guy in the photos I took was wearing.

The jacket on the guy I saw was different, but it could have been reversable.

At first, I poo pooed the notion they could be one in the same person, went on with my afternoon, but the thought never left my mind, so I went to the Online Reporting System the officers that gave the presentation here on Tuesday mentioned.

What a load of baloney about it being simple, and I couldn't find a category for what I was trying to report.

I decided to call the PD non-emergency number.

Another waste of time. A recording said the PD was closed.

It was only 1:30 in the afternoon so I knew it wasn’t closed.

Why do they make it so hard to do the right thing, thought I, as I decided to give up.

Besides, so much time had passed since I saw the guy that he could have walked to China by now, but something wouldn’t let me give up.

BTW, if you’re wondering why I didn’t call when I first saw the guy with the machete. At that time, in my mind, he was just a guy walking down the street with a machete. He wasn’t menacing anyone with it, so I wasn’t gonna be a Karen, call the cops, get him unalived or beat to hell just for walking with a weapon.

It wasn’t until an hour or so later, when I saw the photo of the guy the PD was looking for that I saw what looked like similarities, and then it took an additional half hour or so to get through the annoying reporting systems.

I ended up calling the City. They connected me with a non-emergency PD line. I gave them what info I had, texted the photos to the officer they directed me to send to and, having gotten that off my mind, went on with hiding from the little Knock Knock.

What do you think? Is it the same guy?

Guy I saw

I wonder what or who is in the bag.

Lately, every day’s been an adventure.

Caught Off Guard

My little Knock Knock caught me off guard this afternoon.

Every time I heard a noise on the stairs last two days, I prepared myself to duck down — if the kitchen blinds were open and I was on the laptop, so I couldn't be seen. Thus far, it’s been delivery people for either myself or Next Door Neighbor.

Today, I didn’t see her on the complex, did not hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. It was just all of a sudden, around 5:00, there was knock knock knock knock on the door.

Caught completely off guard, I thought OH CRAP! then told myself Don’t answer, Don’t answer.

I tried not to but gave in, answered the door.

She didn’t hug me this time, just stood there awkward like.

Maybe she can feel my energy towards her has changed.

There were no words as I stared at her, she stared at me, I stared at her, she stared back at me.

Finally, it was "Can I come in?" and before I could answer she stepped inside and began looking around.

Trying to figure out what she was looking for I said "What???".

"Where’s the red one?"

Not understanding what she wanted, I said "The what?”.

"The red one … Where’s the red one?"

She meant the red bear she’d supposedly bought for me, but then took back.

"Do you mean Sunny? You took it back already".

She looked confused, said "Oh yeah" and began coughing.

"OH NOOOOOOOO!" said I as I panicked, went "Get out! Get out! Get out!" and shooed her out the door.

As she went flying down the stairs, I stuck my head out to say something to Grandma Talker.

Not seeing Talker, I asked, "Where is your grandma? Does she know you're here?"

I didn't get an answer but, as I reached for the Lysol to spray out the cooties, I heard the Talker's voice.

Granddaughter must have had a distressed look on her face because I could hear Grandma's concerned voice say, "What happened?".

I went down the stairs, saw Talker over by the bench with her best friend in the complex (A) and filled her in .... "She tried to give me cooties, coughed on me. Came all the way up here to try to make me sick".

Both Talker and A thought it was funny, began laughing, but Talker did tell granddaughter, "You can’t do that", as if she could help coughing. But don’t come around me if you’re sick.

At any rate, maybe the fact that I chased her off will be the end of this.

I can only hope, and I'd better not get sick.

Forbidden Rice

Saw a recipe on TikTok a few weeks ago for Spicy Salmon Rice Muffins, which appeared to be Sushi made in a muffin tin.

Worth a try, though I, as I'd not had sushi for a while and was craving it.

A few days later, I was watching Food Network’s The Kitchen where black rice was mentioned.

Never have I seen nor heard of black rice in my whole entire life.

Have you?

At any rate, I was sold on trying it when the chefs expounded its benefits — more fibers and nutrients than even brown rice, improves digestion and a good source of energy.

As for why it’s also known as Forbidden Rice is because it was once so valuable it was only served to royalty.

Times have changed. I got a 14.5-ounce container for $4.59.

Thinking black rice was probably better for me than sushi rice, I did some research and learned black rice could be turned into sushi rice simply by adding rice vinegar so, after this morning’s workout, I got started on Sushi in a Muffin Tin with black rice.

Due to my gut issues, I had to substitute olive oil for sesame, coconut aminos for soy, stevia for honey and spiced the marinade up with louisiana hot sauce instead of chili oil. Also, because my muffin tins are rather large, I cut about an inch off the corners for one big square, then filled with black rice and salmon.

The cut off ends of nori won’t go to waste. I’ll turn them into seaweed salad.

After 17 minutes in the oven, I added the avocado and a substitution for spicy mayo and had myself the most delicious lunch.

Felt a little difficult at first to handle, as the muffin kind of folds over like dolmas, but once I got the hang of it, they were so tasty that I pigged out.

What was meant to be lunch and dinner turned into lunch ........ period.

I can’t say if it was the black rice that made the dish so extra special delicious or the marinated salmon or a combination of the two, but I’ll get an idea of what flavor black rice added when I turn the leftover rice into breakfast fried rice tomorrow morning.

The wind began kicking up again late last night. At one point, I was in bed and saw a large white figure flying at my bedroom window.

Can’t say it didn’t give me little fright, as it looked like a ghost; but I quickly realized it was something the wind had kicked up.

It was rough going to this morning’s workout, with the wind trying to knock me down so, when I left the Pain Cave and was headed back, I was surprised to see Buttons out braving the wind.

There’s no stopping Buttons, who celebrated her 86th birthday this past Sunday. She said she was returning from Wii Bowling at the senior center. Tomorrow she’ll be back out and about attending a Writing Class.