Pizza and Potato Chips

Yesterday’s "Thanksgiving Social and Tenant Council Meeting" did not disappoint in providing the disappointment I’d expected.

Scheduled for noon to 1:30, I was back in my unit by 12:15.

Arriving just before noon, with my notepad to document what management had to say in the meeting portion, I found only seven residents in the room, and all seven were of the Usual Suspects. (Talker was in attendance, MAGA was not, so no tea to report back).

There were no decorations, no coffee, no nothing prepared for us.

Kesha didn't know anything about a "Tenant Council Meeting", said she didn't know why the office even put that on the calendar. Then she began walking around, having us sign her attendance sheet, so she can get credit for hosting an event, as she gave out little bags of potato chips.

Adding insult to injury, they're not even turkey flavored.

I did hear Kesha order a pizza for the few attendees, but I didn’t stick around long enough to see it delivered. As stated above, I was outta there at 12:15, saying I had better things to do — like laundry while there’s a break in the rain and steam clean the bathroom (both of which is what I did with my time).

Painted Rock Lady laughed, said in a sarcastic tone, "I got up early for this".

Will I ever learn not to waste my time buying into management posting event on the activity calendar that rarely come to fruition.

Ernie did a walkthrough while I was in the room, saw me sitting at a table off to myself, said out loud to the room, "I have to go hug this beautiful lady". I didn’t stand up, so he bent over, hugged what he could, then kissed me on the cheek.

Hmmmmmm??????

Crafty Lady was in the room, seemed to have gotten over being salty towards me for ghosting her that day.

In fact, when the Baker was telling me we’d be doing something different for Christmas, that instead of a big party, she’ll make lasagna, salad, and we’ll be doing crafts and cookie decorating, Crafty Lady walked over to add she’d be teaching attendees how to turn something or other into another something or other involving jewelry, and that she’d picked out a witch for me to work on.

Hmmmmmm??????

Seems I'm taking up space in her head; she's thinking of me even when I'm not around which, ordinarily, would be nice but feels a little creepy coming from her. At any rate, I very much fear she's going to get her feelings hurt yet again, because my job at the Christmas event will be that of photographer. I'll be focusing on who's coming in, who's doing what, capturing memories for the Residents' FB page, with little time for crafting.

If by chance I do get a minute to participate in crafts and the choice is decorating cookies or participate in what she's doing with jewelry, you can probably guess I'll go for decorating cookies.

Next up is Friday’s Thanksgiving event that us residents are hosting for ourselves. We’ll probably get quite the turnout for that. MAGA might even show up, and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see Kesha walk in to take names/pics, give us candy so she can steal credit for the event.

This management group is soooooo tacky.

Two Down, Four to Go

It’s been frigid cold, with rainstorms, flash flood warnings every day since Friday, except for yesterday, when we got a break in the rain just long enough for me to run to the market and for the tree people to begin work on grinding down the stumps remaining from when they murdered all the trees in the grassy knoll.

How it started ………

How it ended ………

It took them about 3 hours to grind down the large stump, 2 hours on the second and, by then, it was obvious another rainstorm was about to begin, so the guys called it a day.

I just hope the grinding of stumps to dust doesn’t result in another round of vengeful tree spirits.

It was actually kinda fascinating to watch the process through the window, as I sat on the edge of the bed drinking coffee, which led me to later look up the handheld machine the guys were using.

Learning it’s called a "stump grinder", I then had to know who came up with an idea like that, learned it was a happy accident — "Gary Vermeer invented the first modern stump grinder in 1956 …… the invention was spurred by an accidental test in 1953, where an operator's mistake caused a prototype to grind stumps five times faster by moving sideways instead of forward and back".

At any rate, that’s 2 stumps down 4 to go, as the guys are back at it this morning before it starts raining again.

Returning from the market yesterday, I noticed a fairly new tenant around the corner has already put up Christmas decorations.

Inasmuch as tradition dictates decorating the Day after Thanksgiving, that neighbor is decorating a little early. However, I can’t fault her for being in a hurry for Christmas to arrive because, though tomorrow and next year is not promised to me, I've already begun planning next year’s Halloween costume.

Today is the "Thanksgiving Social and Tenant Council Meeting". I’m expecting to be disappointed, but it will give me an opportunity to find out what the seniors have been up to and if MAGA and Talker are still beefing.

For My Next Trick

We are 13 days into the month and us residents just this afternoon had the Actvity Calendar for this month posted to our doors.

I guess it really doesn't matter inasmuch as there are no activities listed, LOL.

Except, "Thanksgiving Social and Tenant Council Meeting with Management, Tuesday, November 18, 12:00 pm - 1:30 pm".

I'm not expecting much from another management meeting or a "Thanksgiving social" but, if the Starbucks strike is over, I'll grab a cup, head down to the Community Room, just to see what Kesha and Assistant Manager are up to.

Hopefully, I can manage to listen, take notes on the meeting portion, keep my thoughts about management to myself, because voicing my frustrations, at previous meetings, has been a waste of energy.

HOWEVER, if there is any mention of our paying for lightbulbs, garbage disposal, toilet, that will be my opening to tell them I've learned it's illegal for management to charge us for those items — simple wear and tear; and ask what have they been doing with the money collected from that illegal practice.

Now that work on that never ending project came to an end, for my next trick Twin 1 has tasked me with designing a cover for this bathroom accessory ……

I haven’t a clue where to begin but, while I’m waiting for an idea to pop into my head, I thought I’d start with purchasing fabric.

After getting my BP checked yesterday (121/58), I drove over to the homophobic, racists, antisemitic Knit for Jesus craft store (don’t judge me for giving them my business. They’re the only option since Michael’s and Joann’s went out of business).

I picked up a bolt of Kente Cloth, cause I know Twin 1, with her afrocentric self, would like it.

Then saw a different print …… somewhat similar, but a little more muted that I thought she might like.

Not knowing which she’d like best, I took both bolts up to the little strait-laced grandma looking lady manning the yardage station.

She oohed and aahed over the Kente Cloth fabric, said she likes color and had in fact told her daughter she was going to make for herself a top and pants out of that specific colorful print.

Sensing she didn’t know what she saw as a "colorful print" actually was, I said, "It’s Kente Cloth".

Seeming not impressed, she said "I just like all the colors".

"Wearing pants and a top is a lot of color, and I don’t see you wearing that much color", said I.

She was a tiny little lady, and that much color would have swallowed her up. Her little body didn't exude the power to carry the print off.

She laughed said her daughter told her the same thing, that it was a lot of color, and now hearing it from me as well, maybe she’ll just make a top.

Thinking it might not actually be safe for a basic white strait-laced grandma type walking around in Kente Cloth, I added "Kente Cloth is pretty ethnic. They call it cultural appropriation now days".

We left it at that, as another customer approached, oohed and aahed over the Kente Cloth.

Later that night, I got to thinking about that conversation, wondered if I’d spoken incorrectly.

So, I asked Google …… "can white people wear kente cloth?"

There wasn’t an exact ye or ney. It was more or less, do it at your own risk, because inasmuch as the cloth symbolizes Black Excellence, to see a white person wearing is "conflicting". That you’re likely to get a lot of side eye because some do see it as cultural appropriation.

The internet also reminded me of the hew and cry that was when "with the introduction of new federal police reform legislation, Democratic Congressional leaders came together in Emancipation Hall in the U.S. Capitol to kneel together in support of the fight for racial justice. In addition to the symbolic gestures, the leaders, including Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi and Minority Leader Chuck Schumer, wore kente stoles …… In doing so, they meant to honor Black lives. Instead, they appropriated African culture".

They’d meant well, but caused quite a stir.

I imagine if that strait-laced granny follows through with either a top or pants or both, her circle of friends might think it cute, even some in the general public might think it cute/cool; but for me, I’m big on respecting the various cultures.

Like when I was training at the Thai culture Pain Cave. When told it would be deemed disrespectful to walk across the floor in shoes, I’d take shoes off in an area provided at the door, walk to the back training area in socks, slip athletic shoes back on AND repeat the process leaving — take off shoes in back room, walk to the front in socks, put shoes back on in area provided.

Once, Trainer said he’d ask the guys if an exception could be made for me, but I requested he not do so because "I believe in respecting the culture".

Later today, I messaged Twin 1 photos of the two prints; she chose the second one, the not Kente Cloth one.

Go figure.

The Kente won't go to waste. It will eventually come in handy for something I make in the future …… not pants and a top, though I myself probably could carry it off.

The Great Reveal

4 years … 4 months … 3,391 hours, not counting time spent prepping the piece in 2021, cleaning week before last, framing yesterday.

I can now hear myself repeating the words of Olivia de Havilland, in the closing scene of her 1949 film the Heiress as she placed the finishing stitch to her canvas … "I shall never do another".

There was a snafu in delivering the frame, which is why there was no delivery on Friday as notice indicated or on Sunday, as a revised notice indicated.

Going into tracking, I found the package was stuck because, at some point in the shipping process, the Apartment Number had been left off the address.

Once I added the Apt Number into the system on Monday, the snafu cleared and the apt number then appeared twice …… once because it was already correctly listed in the system, twice because I’d reentered it.

Go figure, but whatever works, and it did work as there was a successful delivery yesterday.

The week started off with a hug from Ernie on Monday …… even though I was wearing the "Look but do not touch" top and even though he saw it, read the words out loud before he pulled me into a hug.

I’d had to leave my sanctuary that morning to pick up photos that had been developed at the drugstore.

While in that area, I drove through the Starbucks down the street and, driving out, spotted that Nazi car again …… the one I’d spotted outside of that same Starbucks near a Dental Office a few months ago.

I get excited every time I see one of these abominations, am able to capture a pic. The feeling is much like hunters must feel at having caught big game in the wild.

I'm easily entertained, LOL.

Arriving back at the complex, I stepped out of the car, heard Ernie’s voice teasing, "Where’s my coffee" as he walked towards me, opened his arms for a hug, paused, read my shirt out loud, hugged me anyway, LOL.

With coffee in one hand, a package in the other, I was pretty much at Ernie's mercy, couldn't straight arm him.

Ernie is friendly, sweet, incorrigible, and I suspect may be a bit of a perv …… that all this hugging is his way of copping a feel.

Hopefully he’ll one day get a girlfriend, so he can rein in all this random hugging.

Today, I’m off to the medical center in Redlands for a blood pressure check to get the doctor off my back.

She’d been requesting a BP check, have people calling me to take it, even went so far as to schedule an appointment for me to take it at a facility I never go to for BP checks because parking is problematic and, once checked in, it takes too long to get the check.

Once, they left me sitting waiting for a full hour. Whereupon, I was too upset, BP surely off the chart from aggravation, so I walked out, only to get a threatening call later that if I didn’t get a BP check, the medication would be withheld.

What the hell, said I. I showed up for the scheduled check, it was you people who dropped the ball.

At any rate, I’ve been going to the Redlands facility ever since, where the process is easy breezy.

After that’s taken care of, who knows what wonderful adventure today will bring.

Tell Me Anything

Still waiting for the picture frame to arrive. Tracking indicates still in transit, even though the notice indicates it was scheduled to be delivered Friday.

I’m holding my breath this is not a repeat of the craft lamp I’d ordered that was delivered, but not to me, not even to my building, just disappeared into the ethers.

I’ve just about got the hundred or so photos of the Great Grandbabies (backed up since last December) organized so I can began placing them into the Creative Memory album, and because my brain is in creative mode — individual photos are speaking to me telling me what background paper would work well and layouts are swimming in my head, last few days have been constant motion ……… Up, down, around, up down around for hours, in one room to search through my paper stash, to the table to organize photos, to the couch to document ideas into a document on the laptop, bending, stooping, lifting. If I’d worn my tracker, I’m sure I would have clocked in at least three miles per day and my route would look something like this, with occasional detours to the kitchen.

Needless to say, I haven’t had the time or inclination to socialize with the seniors. My only contact has been a text message from Talker saying "You’re coming to Thanksgiving on the 21st aren’t you?"

"I am" was my reply.

It’s an eating event and, because I have to control was ingredients are in the foods I eat, I generally do not attend eating events. However, the Baker had already told me she was roasting a turkey and, because she’s doing the cooking, I’m comfortable with the hygiene and that there won’t be any seasonings added that will cause my sensitive gut to rebel.

BTW, at the Halloween event, I saw the Baker and MAGA standing at the open refrigerator and spotted two turkeys.

Baker tells me Dream Lover supplied the turkeys.

Who needs Management and an Activity Director when we can pull together to do for ourselves.

And an additional BTW, management told us they withhold money from Kesha so they can use the funds to give us parties at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Thanksgiving is 16 days away and there has been no mention of management hosting the usual Thanksgiving event, and I'm not holding my breath for Christmas.

Where's the money going?

Baker also indicated there will be sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and other sides.

I can eat sweet potatoes, have to pass on the cranberry sauce, and will make my own gluten free/fodmap dressing, gravy and hope Upstairs Lady and the MAGA around the corner don’t irritate me into tossing my cookies or walking out to keep from yelling at them.

Late Thursday afternoon, I stepped outside to take trash to the dumpster, saw MAGA turn a corner off in the distance, waved hello, dropped the trash in the bin, began walking back to my unit when she called for me to wait up.

Looking harried and a bit disheveled she said, "Can I tell you something".

Puzzled, I said "sure".

She went into this soliloquy about having words with someone she would not name, other than to say the individual is a bully.

HA! So is she. She just doesn’t know it.

"I’m not going to tell you what the argument was about, but I defended myself. Now that person is going around telling others stuff about me, and I just want to ask that if you hear anything, you take into consideration there are two sides to every story".

"Not to worry", said I. "I’m an independent thinker, not easily manipulated; besides, people around here generally don’t tell me stuff like that".

She kept going on about it and, because my brain was in creative mode, I didn’t retain more of what she said except, at one point, she was talking about other people this person supposedly had bullied, so I guessed it was Upstairs Lady.

"No. It’s L" (the Talker) she said.

Well, that was a surprise. MAGA is beefing with Talker.

I don’t really care one way or another. My name is Bennett and I’m not in it.

However, though MAGA didn’t tell me what the argument was about, I can guess that, per usual, control freak that she is, MAGA opened her mouth, got into conversations that were none of her business — like she did at last week’s Halloween event that so annoyed me, tried to control what others should think, say, feel in front of Talker and, as I’m sure it wasn’t MAGA’s first time to do so in front of Talker, only this time Talker had had enough, yelled and told MAGA off like I’d wanted but restrained myself from doing last week, and MAGA verbally fought back.

That must have been quite something to see and, because MAGA still seemed upset about words having been said and Talker now badmouthing her, I’m sure it’s not over.

My head will be on swivel at the Thanksgiving event to see if it spills over, LOL.

The very next day, getting out of the car in the market parking lot, I heard a man’s agitated voice off in the distance say, "I know her! She’s a friend of my wife!"

I looked around, didn’t see anything but, before I stepped away from the car, here comes this man looking enraged. He stopped in front of me (I didn’t feel the least bit threatened, his energy wasn’t that) and told me the story.

Evidently, he was having a conversation with a woman on the lot. A female store employee approached, asked the woman he was speaking with "Are you okay, ma'am?".

Whereupon he’d uttered those words I’d heard about knowing the woman, that she was a friend of his wife.

Seeing him upset/offended, the store employee had then said, "I have to check".

He was highly insulted, told me, "I work for a living. I’m not a threatening person; it was none of her business. We were talking. My voice was not raised" yada yada yada.

"I’m sorry that happened to you", said I, "But in all fairness to the store employee, one never knows these days".

He wasn’t having it and continued to rant until he got it out of his system; whereupon I said, "Don’t let it ruin your day" and continued on into the market.

My week in a nutshell the few times I left my sanctuary, ventured into the outside world ………

A Week Without Monday

I’ve been so preoccupied with whatnots that I not only missed the time change, I missed Monday.

Upon receiving a text at 5:30 pm on Sunday that started with "Hey beautiful", asking me to post photos to the Residents’ facebook page of the day’s Craft session, I questioned why Crafts was on Sunday then realized the day was not Sunday, it had to be Monday.

Later, while reading blogs, I saw mention of "falling back".

My taking no notice of either the day of the week or time change is somewhat understandable because, as a retiree …… who cares. Unless there are doctor appointments or a gym schedule to adhere to, the weeks, days, times are pretty much moot, one does what one does when one does it, on a daily basis.

It used to be I could tell days of the week by which of my TV show was on, but now that I’ve discovered Chinese Dramas, I pretty much let the VCR record things like Food Network Competitions, Survivor, Amazing Race for later viewing.

So anyway, as of today, I’m current on which day of the week this is …… Crafts Wednesday, and the microwave is set to display the correct time.

Though Crafty Lady continues to address me as "Hey, beautiful", I don’t think there’s anything in her mind other than business. I can sense she’s taken a giant step back and is now a little less salty about having to do so.

That doesn’t mean I’ll be comfortable enough with her to go down to Crafts today or ever again.

Besides, now that the never ending needlepoint canvas has been completed (I’m waiting for the frame to arrive before I do a big reveal), I’ve crafts enough with catching up on scrapbooking the great grandkids photos, backed up since last December.

Crafty Lady has made no more mention of my hosting Scrapbook Classes for the seniors, which I had no intention of doing. However, it hit me that 1) the seniors don’t take sufficient or any pictures at all to justify scrapbooking and 2) it’s an expensive hobby, a hobby they probably can’t afford to waste money on considering the rising cost of food, medication, and rent increases. So, if she ever revisits that idea, those points are viable shutdowns if my simple "no" doesn't satisfy her.