Back to Normal

Life has returned to the norm here at the senior complex.

I got my Christmas decorations packed and back into storage promptly New Year’s Day, without exhausting or hurting myself. Even used the opportunity to organize other containers in the storage area better.

I was fairly well organized with costumes in one container, tutus in another, scrapbooking had two dedicated containers, but everything else was kinda lumped in so that, when I needed something, like say a needlepoint frame or a stylus, it was easier to just go buy one than move containers and go hunting.

Now it’s organized so that each specific craft has a dedicated container. In the process, I discovered I had seven needlepoint frames, two tubes of aida cloth I’d altogether forgotten I had and various other bits and pieces I’d looked for but could not find in the past.

Curious to know how much energy I’d expend by packing up and reorganizing, I’d worn the Fitbit.

Results indicate I’ve still got it and may be ready to start back with 5Ks.

After delivery of pizzas yesterday, was to be a class entitled “Reframing Your Perspective for 2018”.

Sounded intriguing. I planned to attend.

After the perspective class was to be a Crochet Class. “Learn how to crochet an afghan that will be donated to the Veterans’ Dialysis Center”.

A worthy endeavor for a worthy cause, but I’m all crochet out.

I did a lot of it in the 60’s, 70’s – caps, rugs, clothing -- even taught one of my daughters, who is now like a master at crochet and use to have an Etsy store, until she decided it was more fulfilling to gift items than to sell them.

I didn’t leave the other daughter out of being taught to sew, knit, crochet, it’s just that she didn’t want to learn, never took to crafting of any sort.

At any rate, I wasn’t interested in Tuesday’s Crochet Class, but other residents were.

Problem was, Activity Director was once again a no-show – no perspective class, no crochet class, but Head Maintenance Guy (HMG) took her place in picking up and delivering pizzas.

One of the residents commented on how HMG all of a sudden is moving around like he’s got a fire under his arse – going from unit to unit handling things, picking up pizzas, that buying donuts for residents at last month’s meeting with his own money, smiling and greeting residents.

What happened to bring about this change?

No one knows for sure, but rumor is one too many complaints and a scathing email to Corporate about his previous lack of motivation and poor attitude.

If that’s what happened and he consequently has been warned by Corporate to get in gear or look for a job elsewhere, I assure you – it wasn’t me. Well … yes, I’ve complained to other staff, but in a joking way – like when I told Complex Manager and Assistant Maintenance Guy that I was going to put a lump of coal in HMG’s stocking. And yes, I did put him on blast at the Residents/Management meeting in front of his Corporate Boss, but I didn’t send the email.

Whatever the reason for this change, I welcome the new him.

Roll Call

Today is Pizza Tuesday here at the complex. Missing from the herd will be the old guy that would open a box, touch the pizza, close the box, put it back in rotation on the table, then choose a different pizza. 

Of course, those handled pizzas were immediately taken out of rotation and tossed in the trash, the old guy was told not to open the box and touch, but he was stubborn, didn’t like women telling him what he could and could not do, and further didn’t seem to care that others were offended at his contaminating food until Activity Director put her foot down and one day literally shoved the pizza he’d touched back at him and made him take it.

After that, he’d still try to open and touch, but everyone in the room kept an eye on him, and saw to it that he was made to take what he handled.

At any rate, he passed away of a brain aneurysm between Christmas and New Year’s.

Also passing away during that same time period, (in addition to the lady I’d previously blogged about – who was fine one day, celebrating her 95^th Birthday, then, in rapid succession, was first in the hospital, then placed in convalescent home where she very quickly passed away), was the wheel-chaired gentleman whose daughter had put her life on hold and moved in to care for him.

In failing health and bed-ridden for the last year or so, he succumbed to a heart attack. The daughter is in the process of moving out, as she is too young to remain a resident.

On New Year’s Day, the companion of 30 years to one of our Community Room regulars became ill and, against his wishes, was taken to hospital. He’s hanging on, but word is liver damage due to alcoholism.

The downside of living in a senior community is we see a lot of death. Oddly enough, most occur during the holiday season and average about three/four around this time every single year. But, at any age, tomorrow is not promised.

The mystery of how The Seer knew this is my birthday month was solved when I noticed the names of all residents born in January was listed on this month’s Activity Calendar.

I’d forgotten the office does that, hadn’t really been paying attention to the listing, until my name jumped out at me. I do remember blogging, when management first began publishing names, that the then new practice was going to create a problem for those of us who do not wish to be recognized.

And so it looks like it is, creating problems that is.

Oh well.

Also worth mentioning -- the garlic oil appears to have cured that ear infection. It took the same length of time the doctor said the medication she gave me would take, around 7 days, and the garlic oil cured without the horrible side effects that would have come with the medication prescribed.

Now if I could just find a permanent holistic cure for my esophagus/gut issues.

Good Morning 2018

Please be gentle with us.

Please be kind to us.

From the photos posted to our Facebook page, by those in attendance, it appears the senior’s New Years Eve Party went well.

I began thinking perhaps those sparkling ciders might have been spiked with alcohol, and some seniors were tipsy, when I received two telephone calls in rapid succession. The first call was from The Seer, who said the woman I’d given those cookies for the soldiers wanted to talk to me. She put the woman on the phone who said she needed my unit number for a thank you card, but then couldn’t hear my response because she’s partially deaf. She put The Seer back on the phone, who then transmitted the info to the woman.

So why did the woman get on the phone in the first place if she couldn’t hear through the wires?

I was thinking they were having too much fun down there, and I could hear the raucousness in the background.

Then mere seconds after that call was terminated, The Seer called back to ask, “When is your birthday?”

Whaaaaaat!

Are you joking!

“It’s a secret" said I. "You know I don’t celebrate my birthday”.

“Well that’s okay. I think I’ve got it written down in one of my books. I’ll look it up”.

Whaaaaaat!

How’d she get that very private information?

Maybe she has a clue it's this month, as I'd sometimes attend the cake celebrations for residents born specific months. But after years of being feted, sometimes completely overlooked, I learned not to expect, which grew to not wanting. Preferring to keep that status quo, I don't post my birthday on Facebook or mention it around the seniors, which others here go out of their way to let you know in advance. I do put my age on blast, as I'm proud of living this long when so much in life has tried to kill me.

My daughters have been off celebrating their 50th Birthday last few days. Since turning 50 is a big deal, and turning 50 with a twin an even bigger deal, I gifted them with what they wanted – day at the spa and a week in a fancy hotel in San Diego.

Reasonable request, as they could have opted for some place exotic, like Hawaii.

Countdown to 2018

Today is the seniors' all day until 2:00 a.m. New Year’s Eve Party.

Not planning to attend myself, I did make a run down to the Community Room, around 1:00 p.m., to see how things were going.

Not many people yet, but a lot of weird looking pots on the stove.

Reminds me of when I’d get home from school, see mom had something cooking on the stove in a lidded pot. I’d open the lid and get grossed out by some awful looking animal head – mostly pig as mom made a lot of a country folks favorite back then -- pig head cheese.

None of us kids ate it, so I assume it was for her and the neighbors, but being traumatized by the animal heads probably has something to do with my not eating meat now, except for chicken and turkey. I also don’t eat beef, but that’s because mom had further traumatized me by saying my dog Skippy had been turned over to the meat market to be ground into beef hamburger meat.

At any rate, the cook tells me what’s on the stove is for Enchiladas and “Are you coming back?”

I said no, so she said she’d better wish me a Happy New Year’s now, then she ran over and hugged me.

OMG! Why do people feel they have to follow "Happy New Year’s (HNY)" with a hug?

I’m fairly certain she doesn’t have cooties, so I’m not freaked out about it, but still. 

I also got HNY and a hug from another resident yesterday, as I stepped out, headed to the market.

To play it safe, when I ran into Apache, bringing in the Martinelli Sparkling Cider, and he asked if I’d be coming back, I lied and said yes so he wouldn’t hug me. In fact, I think I’d better keep a low profile next few days until folks get HNY and the hugging out of their system.

Tonight being the official end of the holiday -- last night I get to light up the patio Christmas Decorations, tomorrow will be wrapping everything up, returning to storage.

Wishing you all a happy, prosperous New Year and if you’re one of those who don't mind a hug going along with that, here you go.

Do Not Touch

Yesterday ended up not being my free day after all, as a last-minute errand came up that took me out of the area.

Upon returning to the complex, I cut through the Community Room, on the way to the mailbox, and saw an announcement for a celebration of life scheduled for today for one of our long-time residents.

Her passing was a complete surprise to all of us, as she’d just a few weeks ago celebrated her 95^th Birthday.

I’m not exactly sure what transpired after that, but it all seemed to have happened in rapid succession in the span of two weeks … one day she was in the Community Room chatting, having fun, watching television, next thing an ambulance picked her up and took her to the hospital. Then her daughter put her in a care facility and began cleaning out her unit -- inviting residents to come to the unit this past Saturday to take anything they’d like saying our long-time resident would not be coming back. When residents arrived at the unit Saturday, the daughter announced our long-time resident had passed that morning.

Once they leave the community and all their friends, they just don’t seem to have the will to go on.

Asked to post information about the celebration of life on our facebook page, I headed upstairs, located a photo I’d taken of our long-time resident, posted the photo and announcement with the title “We say goodbye to a Dear Friend”.

I won’t be attending as the service is out of the area, we weren’t that close that I feel compelled to attend, plus I’d made arrangements to meet up with daughter, while she's in the area at the nail salon, to hand over the blankets for what she calls her “outside neighbors” -- which is a nice way of describing the homeless people in her area.

I’m kinda amazed that both my girls are devoting time and energy to serving outside neighbors – one cooks and takes meals and clothing to those living in a nearby park, the other is involved with an organization that weekly takes food, clothing, essentials to those living in the Skid Row area.

That’s a worry because Skid Row, if you’ve never seen it, driven through there, is worse than anyone can image -- filthy to the umpteenth degree, highly volatile, dangerous. In fact, just this last week, daughter returned to her car after providing for those outside neighbors only to find an ungrateful outside neighbor in that area had poured milk all over her car.

It could have been worse.

At any rate, after turning the blankets over to the daughter serving outside neighbors in the park, I’m off to get the car smog tested, with the hope today will be a slow day with folks focused on plans for New Year’s Eve, rather than getting their autos smog checked, so I can be in an out quickly.

We shall see.

While I was out yesterday, I ran into the resident who, like me, had been blessed with a windfall from a job she’d long since left behind. Unlike me, however, there was a question as to whether she could remain a resident because she was living in a unit as caretaker to the resident on the lease – technically not a resident herself and the windfall made her ineligible to become a resident now that she can afford her own unit.

Long-time readers will recall this was the woman whose only income was from living here with and caring for her mother. When the sister took mother away and placed mom in a care facility, the woman lost her income. Gripped with fear as to how she’d survive, she ended up in hospital with bowel obstructions … twice.

No surprise there … cause and effect, gripping fear = bowel obstruction.

With the help of her son, the woman was able to remain in that unit for a little while but, when that played out, she signed on as live-in caregiver to an older lady in the complex.

Suffice it to say, the woman has been through a lot in the last few years, supplementing what little she derived as caretaker by dumpster diving here on the complex, and I’ve often run into her dumpster diving at the University when I was there hunting Pokémon.

This windfall was a much-needed miracle for her.

At any rate, she was telling me yesterday that she’s outa here -- she bought a truck and, instead of the trailer she’d planned to buy, she’d found a little house not too far away.

I’m really happy for her, said so and felt a hug coming on – an urge rising up in me to hug her, sensing her moving in to hug me, at which time I quickly turned away, wished her well and took off.

Why?

Her name came up in the Community Room this past Tuesday. Maybe folks were jealous of her good fortune and wanted to say something to bring her down, maybe it was the Universe giving me a do not touch warning, but it was said that management had gotten on the woman about dumpster diving because those activities had brought bed bugs and roaches to the unit she was occupying with the resident on the lease. That the unit had been treated twice, but still had an infestation.

Thank the Lord, that unit is far away from my building.

I don’t know. She looks clean to me, but just the thought she might have cooties … well, you know. I had to resist the urge to hug and back away.

I Caved

Why oh why did Head Maintenance Guy pick yesterday morning, when I was on my way to the foyer to slip Starbuck gift cards in all staff stockings, except his, to both smile and wave good morning to me.

As a refresher, I was leaving him out of gifting as a lesson for not doing right by me and because it is my belief that bad behavior is not to be rewarded; but after he smiled and waved, I felt awful for leaving him out. So awful that, remembering the bible verse that returning good for evil (a show of forgiveness) is like reaping burning coals on the person who was unkind to you (shames and makes the offender feel guilty), I relented, drove to Starbucks, picked up another gift card and dropped it in his stocking.

I’m torn.

On one hand, I feel better for having done the right thing, spiritually speaking; but humanly speaking, I’m a little angry at myself for caving in because I’ve never ever actually seen this returning good for evil work on the offending party. I’ve seen it come back and create good in my life from other avenues, but I’ve never seen a change in the offending individual.

I guess that’s the point of this lesson – that it’s not about what HMG does/doesn’t do, it’s about me not putting the negative action into the universe of deliberately leaving him out, thereby creating bad karma to come back and bite me in the butt.

So, whether HMG goes back to being lazy, unresponsive, giving me side-eye, or whether he continues this new course of smiling, waving, I think I’m done skewering him on this blog. Just remember, I did say “think”, so don’t hold me to it.

Today looks like another free day to focus on the latest never ending needlepoint project.

May 2017 - December 2017 Progress