Green Monday

After having passed on Black Friday and Cyber Monday, because I refuse to get caught up in the hype, I found myself wild-n-out yesterday on Green Monday. But it was mostly a coincidence.

I ordered a new GPS and the pick-up date coincidentally fell on Green Monday which, also coincidentally, fell on the last day for customers to pick up layaway items. That meant for quite a long wait at the pick-up counter.

Promising myself I’d avoid Wal-Mart until after the holidays, I logged onto the computer later that day and was immediately tempted by a popup for an interesting looking stand mixer.

How do they do that?

It's like whoever does the popups are reading my mind, because a mixer is something I’ve debated for as long as I’ve been making tamales, because it’s beyond difficult to make masa correctly without a mixer, unless you have strong hands and tremendous upper body strength, which I don’t.

My little hand mixer doesn’t do the job, neither does the food processor, so I’ve lived with ho hum masa, thinking I really need a stand mixer, but don’t have the counter space and couldn’t justify the cost for a kitchen appliance to be used once/twice a year.

The one I saw on the screen looked compact enough to be able to make room for in my little kitchen and, at $40 off, the price was right, so it’s ordered for Wednesday pick-up.

Looks like I’ll be joining in with the holiday shopping crowd one more time.

Maybe twice because today I’m off to Victoria Gardens to pick up a garment ordered online.

Leaving the nail salon last week, I drove by Victoria Gardens, saw how it was decorated for the holidays, wanted to stop and check things out, but was in too much pain to be walking around.

Pain because the stress fractured food had been doing exceptionally well to the point where I’d almost forgotten I was having a problem. THEN the woman who did the pedicure, who usually does good work, gave me a food massage from hell. She seemed distracted, like she had something on her mind, something she was worried angry upset about and took it out on my feet, and more than once. At one point I even yelped when she was cleaning under the toenail because she was digging too deep. When I told her why I'd cried out ... "you're digging too deep", she looked like she was just coming back to reality, had been working on automatic and didn't realized what she'd been doing.

Long and short of it is, I left the salon limping. That stress fracture felt re-stressed, re-fractured, and I now feel pain even with the slightest pressure, and a throb when there's no pressure whatsoever -- which has better rectify itself before January 7^th, when I’m scheduled to take over someone’s bib and race in their place at the Citrus Run.

The woman that did my feet has been working at the salon for years, is an older woman not yet pushed out but is now surrounded by young, cute, high heel, tiny waists, fake boobs, stylish types. She probably has a loyal following which keeps her in business by requests, which I’ve always done because -- being elderly myself and luckily retired, I try to support the elderly who've not been so lucky and still must work, but I’m gonna have to opt out and request one of the other girls from now on.

Under the circumstances, doubt there will be much walking at Victoria Gardens today. I’ll probably find someplace near the Christmas Tree to park, pick up my package, sit and watch the little ones all dressed up, heading towards a visit to the little house where Santa resides.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jig

Though the weekend with family didn’t turn out as rough as I’d imagine, I can’t say it was actually fun – more like interesting and, now that it’s over, I see it was necessary.

Necessary in that I rid myself of old resentments, which I now see were holding me back spiritually speaking.

Nephew had initially invited 75 guests; 35 rsvp’d yes but, at the last minute, folks began cancelling out with the excuse “something came up”, which put nephew in a quandary because quite a few of those cancelling were his close friends who’d volunteered to pick up this, pick up that, decorate this, decorate that, get the cake. So, at the last minute, nephew found himself scrambling to find someone else to handle tasks and having to run around town taking care of things for himself.

The event scheduled to begin at 3:00, got pushed back by text to 5:00, then 6:00.

Arriving at 6:00, the only people there were myself, two of his friends, five or six children (contained in the kids room), and the caterer – a woman he’d hired to cook on the premises.

Nephew had not yet made it to his own party, favorite niece -- at whose home the event was taking place, also had not yet made it, daughter had a bonafide plumbing emergency and was unable to come.

By the time nephew arrived, niece arrived with her evil mom, other guests arrived, we ended up with a grand total of 15 and the birthday dinner kicked off at 9:45 that night.

That’s right … 3:00 turned into 6:00 into 9:45 pm!

The long wait wasn’t awful though, because most of the guests seemed to all know each other from working in child care situations – schools, day care, foster care and I was fascinated by stories about the out-of-control, intimidating, threatening behaviors children displayed. Some of the stories were about unmanageable children as young as three/four.

The horror stories made me so happy I’d defied my mom that last year in high school, when I had to choose classes towards a direction for after graduation. Mom ordered me to choose towards college to become a teacher. I didn’t want to be a teacher. I was tired of being poor, wanted to get a secretarial job, further my education through technical and night school.

I did what my spirit prompted me to do, chose typing and shorthand classes and, after graduation, went to work as a clerk typist, worked my way up to executive assistant then legal secretary. Though I didn’t always like who I worked for and/or with, I always enjoyed the clerical field.

At any rate, getting back to nephew -- after learning of how so many had let him down, I was happy I made the trip. Known for not attending family functions, he really appreciated I thought enough of him to be there.

So there’s that.

The “necessary” comes in under the category of forgiveness, letting go of old hurts, resentments.

I admit forgiveness is my biggest challenge.

When people don’t do right by me, I just build a wall, lock them out of my life and remember. Spiritual advisers have told me that I would not go any higher than I already am in attaining enlightenment as long as I held anyone in condemnation for past actions.

I could not do it, didn’t have forgiveness in me. I had blocking folks in me, but forgiveness I felt had to come as an action/activity coming through me from the Universe, not something I personally had the power give.

Sister-in-law was one of those I closed out some 35+ years ago.

Knowing I was going to see her was one of the reasons I didn’t want to go. Old resentments rose to the surface, I became angry and feared -- my no longer being the suffer in silence type,  if she’d said one thing to set me off, I’d lose it and verbally rip her to shreds.

Former sister-in-law walked in, greeted me with a smile said “You look just the same”, walked towards me for a hug, which I allowed, and though I barely hugged her back -- was stiff, guarded, the hug she gave me was genuine, tight. She then, either out of guilt for the past or because she could feel my “I want to kick your arse” energy made herself scarce – sitting away from the group, out of sight, behind a room divider.

However, there was a wall mirror across from me from which I could clearly observe her. And what I observed is that, much younger than I, she looked incredibly old, tired, decrepit, like she could have been my mother.

All of a sudden anger at all she’d said/done in the past began to melt away and I felt sorrow. “The fact that I still look good and she looks like 60 miles of dirt road is telling me life has punished her enough” thought I and, just like that, resentment was gone.

Letting go of resentment towards former sister-in-law also led to giving estranged daughter a call this morning.

A trip to bountiful didn’t go so well. Making my way to where my mother lived, I found the houses too close together, the streets too narrow, no place to park, too many people outside watching me (neighborhood watch?) to check out her old house closely or get a photo.

Driving to where I raised my children, I felt sorrow yet again. Once again narrow streets, no place to park, buildings too close together, everything now old and run down. Plugging in the address where I grew up, the GPS found no such location. Plugging in the elementary school, the GPS found no such location and then it died. 

It was like the Universe was saying don't go any further into the past.

The GPS so completely died, on a narrow street in Compton, that I feared I'd not find my way out and back home.

Took some doing, but I logic'd it out, made my way back to Inland Empire, and have already ordered a new GPS for pickup tomorrow.

Straight Outta Compton

The fact that I didn’t crave sugar yesterday is a sign I’m slowly coming to terms with having to go through with this weekend’s road trip (unless a sudden rain storm yet appears) – though I was tempted by a facebook friend’s posting of homemade cashew brittle to the point where I looked up the recipe with the idea in mind of making my own.

The recipe looked like way too much trouble for someone like me, who doesn’t enjoy cooking all that much, so I passed and got through the day without a sugar product – even passing up the See’s Candy Store, within walking distance of the nail salon I visited yesterday.

Glad I am that’s over – the squashing down of uncomfortable emotions with sugar, but now begins the detox process all over again.

In examining WHY the switch from looking forward to the trip to dreading it, I’m now thinking … how bad can it be?

A small get together has turned into a huge party, but I can’t be the only one there who won’t fit in because she doesn’t drink, can’t dance (unless it’s country line dancing), has to be careful what she eats, and doesn’t like having a lot of children pawing all over her.

Besides, daughter and her partner will be in attendance. Her twin – my estranged daughter is not invited, having distanced those family members she claimed to “love” and “family is everything” by unleashing upon then that same vicious acid tongue that caused estrangement between she and her twin, between she and I.

My hotel is walking distance from her beachfront apartment but, unless the Universe has us bumping into each other on the street, there will be no reconciliation.

Not that I harbor ill feelings towards estranged daughter -- she's my baby and I'm always going to love her in spirit. It’s just that the last time she lied to and disrespected me was the last time I'd suffer in silence -- let her get away with it without an apology.

The fact that, in the six years since, she once/twice offered up a gesture other than an apology doesn’t cut it. She went too far, too deep that last time, and I won’t trust her with my time, my heart, not to repeat as she has so many times before, jeopardizing my peace of mind, sanity, financial well being until she reaches the level of consciousness where she can wake up and “see”, begin to accept responsibility for self, never to repeat and apologize.

So having got that off my chest and having come to terms with the road trip, I’m looking on tomorrow’s adventure as somewhat my Trip toBountiful experience.

I was born in Los Angeles, which makes of me a bonafide born angel, but I and my oldest brother, grew up in Compton -- yep, this bonafide angel, this redneck in a Black woman’s body is straight outta Compton, which is a hop skip and jump away from the hotel in Long Beach. Consequently, I’m thinking of checking out the house where sister and the other brothers were born, where I grew up, the elementary school we attended, the apartment a few miles away where I raised my children.

Here at the complex, this morning is bi-annual inspection day, where the smoke detector is checked, the a/c filter changed out. This afternoon is Movie Day – Christmas Vacation and tomorrow, unless I get that rain storm, I’m headed out.

See you when I return, with hopefully only good things to say.

Cold Feet

I’ve been quite the homebody last few days -- staying indoors, bundled up against the cold, working on that needlepoint project, overeating, thinking thinking thinking.

Unlike many of the seniors, it’s not year-end depression or the idea of the big orange guy as potus hitting me. In fact, though I am disappointed the big orange guy won the election, I was actually expecting it because Nostradamus had predicted that “in the final days, the antichrist would come into power”.

I am convinced we are living in the Book of Revelation  ... the apocalypse ... the final days.

I am equally convinced the big orange fella is the antichrist Nostradamus foresaw.

So though I do have the same trepidations others are experiencing about the coming year with the antichrist in power, I’m accepting whatever happens as the will of the Universe and dealing with what’s most troubling now, which is this coming weekend’s overnight trip to Long Beach.

It felt like a good idea at the time when late sister’s son sent me an invite to help him celebrate his 40^th birthday and, simultaneously, attend the soft opening of my favorite niece’s nail salon.

I rsvp’d yes, booked a hotel and, up until a week and a half ago, was very much looking forward to an opportunity to do some Pokémon hunting in Long Beach area.

Nephew, who had a heart attack and a bypass last year, is so excited that I’m coming down that he’s been updating me daily. What started off as a small get-together for dinner and drinks after the soft opening has turned into what nephew describes as a “turn up” – a huge fancy dress gala, complete with tent, dance floor, food, jello shots.

I’m the oldest and last of my mother’s six children. Two brothers died long ago, another brother and my only sister passed within weeks of each other in 2013, and my youngest brother passed in 2015.

I am essentially the last one standing.

Children of those brothers and my lone sister have reached the age where they long for a connection to their deceased parent, have questions, want to hear stories about the past and want their own children to know where they come from.

So, after having been removed from my life at age 4 by her evil mother, 35 years later favorite niece found me on facebook . That triggered other nieces, whom I’ve not seen since they were babies, and nephew friending me on facebook, acquainting me with their children, inviting me to family functions.

I’ve been a long time without family, don’t trust family togetherness not to turn into drama (which, looking at facebook posts, it has become upon occasion) and have thus declined functions … except I did attend favorite niece’s 39^th birthday celebration in February, met her husband, some of her friends, and one of my youngest brothers all grown-up daughters.

That I could handle.

The thought of attending a “turn up” with what now will include their friends, neighbors, cousins, greats, grands and favorite niece’s evil mom has triggered anxiety, which anxiety I’m treating with sugary products.

Yep, I’m back on sugar in the form of pumpkin pie, chocolate muffins, ice cream, very much want to stop, detox from sugar yet again and to cancel the overnight to Long Beach.

Meditating on the situation has given me no answers other than I can’t in good conscious drop out now and disappoint nephew, that I should put on my big girl panties, go and meet the folks.

To that end, I’ve plans to get the car washed, tire pressure checked and have planned my fancy dress – the usual black tank, black leggings, jazzed up with my signature cowgirl belt, boots, blazer, which is as fancy as I get; and have plans to hit the nail salon tomorrow for a manicure pedicure.

That’s not to say, I’m not hoping the Universe gives me an out everyone could understand and forgive me for.

I don’t like lying. I'm not good at it, so coming up with any kind of a lie wouldn't feel right -- no one would completely buy a lie anyway, but I’m not above playing the old lady card.

Such as a sudden rain storm Saturday, so I can say “I’m an old lady and it’s not safe for me to drive that far in a rain storm”, which would be true if the weather turns bad on Saturday.

No rain in sight, but if we get a sudden storm this weekend, you’ll know I’m to blame.

Wild Wild West

Friday, here in the Inland Empire was like the Wild West. The Santa Ana Winds came through hot and heavy.

Checking the patio Christmas decorations for damage the next morning, I found things in pretty good shape.

The wind dislodged the outdoor rug, one of the drums was leaning, but things were otherwise in good shape.

Foot feeling better every day, the Santa Anas not too bad, I decided to venture out Saturday, to gather PokéBalls at the university, because I’m heading to Long Beach next weekend and want to make sure my backpack is fully loaded to capture new and different Pokémon.

Heading towards the car in its parking space, I saw tumbleweeds had made it over the gate, into the parking area.

And had piled up outside the gate.

Driving to the campus, I found myself singing a song from my childhood John Wayne movie watching days I'd not thought of since age 13. Surprisingly, I remembered every word.

There were no tumbleweeds on campus, but a rather large tree branch was blocking stairs.

Too cold to be out on campus for long, I headed for home just as the foot began to tell me I’d been out walking on it long enough.

Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

Heading to the Community Room, via the front doors yesterday, I was met by this cherry fellow.

Immediately behind Santa, was Tree No. 1

When I first saw this tree, it was in the process of being decorated by a non-resident volunteer.

How’d they rope her in?

The non-resident is the daughter of a man who’s lived here 17 years.

In chatting with her, while she decorated, I learned her dad’s MS has gotten progressively worse.

I use to see her dad out and about in his motorized wheelchair and, a year and a half ago, he was capable enough to try to climb stairs to woo a female resident. The female resident said she’d heard a commotion on her stairs, looked out, saw him struggling to get to the top and told him to get down before he hurt himself.

“I just wanna be your friend” said he.

As far as I know, becoming her “friend” never happened, but I can’t say for sure and don't want to know.

At any rate, daughter says his arms are no longer strong enough to maneuver the chair, he’s taken to bed and won’t get up.

Her dad sounds depressed.

It’s the time of year when seniors get that way, and fear and dread of the coming year with that giant orange guy as potus isn’t helping the situation.

You’ll notice I lower-cased potus. That’s because I refuse to dignify him with the proper all uppercase spelling.

So anyway, it may be daughter has moved in to provide full time care, rather than her usual in/out to provide groceries, do laundry. Maybe volunteering to decorate one of our trees is a much needed break from it all.

I should feel bad about not wanting to volunteer myself, but I don’t … not in the least. But I think the Universe is trying to tell me something because posted to our doors yesterday was the December Calendar of Events.

First event was today 10:00 to 12:00 — Class: The Value of Volunteering.

I’ve things to do today but went down to see what the speakers had to say.

Walking through the front entrance, it looked like yesterday’s Santa was now Drunk Santa.

The Community Room itself was very festive what with the tree resident volunteers decorated and various decorations around the room.

The Class was just the Activity Director distributing handouts outlining places to volunteer.

Also on the calendar are:

Friday, December 9 — Holiday Movie: Christmas Vacation (with snacks).

Snacks are probably popcorn.

One of my favorite food combinations are popcorn washed down with Starbucks coffee, so I’m in, but I’ll take my own gluten free microwave popcorn.

Friday, December 16 — Class: Holiday Traditions Around the World

Maybe.

Friday, December 23 — Holiday Lunch -- Supposedly with everything provided to us and raffle prizes.

I’ll give Activity Director another chance, but this better not be a fool me twice situation.

On tap for today ….

It's Tamale Time!!