Why Did the Donut Go to the Dentist?

Last time I was at the bank, the riddle board displayed, "What lights up a soccer stadium". Today, when I dropped in, it was "Why did the donut go to the dentist?".

Before heading out for the bank, I checked into the Community Room for Kesha Tuesday and got …… guess what?

ROFLMAO!

Running into Di in the hallway, we each asked how the other was doing and entered the Community Room together, practically arm in arm.

I did this as a signal to the others that, although they exclude Di, deliberately leave her out of the circle, I’m not with that. I’ve known Di too many years to turn on her just because Crafty Lady doesn’t like her and has influenced others, who also have known Di for years, should know better, to also turn into mean girls and dismiss her.

Sure enough, walking into the room with Di, Crafty Lady greeted, "IT’S SHIRLEY!", deliberately excluding Di from the greeting.

I said, "And Di".

Point made.

Like I said, Kesha just gave us potato chips, passed out a flyer with information about managing utility bills in Summer. However, Manager came in, gave a short presentation about things going on that were "not okay".

Like the cameras on the property catching, over the weekend, a resident swimming in the pool, but not alone. Swimming with the resident was his dog, a maltese.

I’m filing this one under "What the hell is wrong with people". Some fool didn’t see a problem with letting his dog swim in the community pool.

It was observed by residents who reported it, management followed up by reviewing the cameras, identified the resident, gave him a warning. However, I've since heard from others, that residents who had no idea who/what had been in the pool before them, took a swim.

Good thing it’s cleaned twice weekly.

Also, "Not okay" was the fact that Assistant Maintenance Man was, at that precise moment, cleaning the mixed-sex bathroom by the pool of feces that had been painted on the walls.

Yikes and gross. Sounds like they should have called in a hazmat team for that.

I was reminded of an incident at my last place of employment where something the agency did had upset employees. Someone expressed their dissatisfaction by painting the walls of the men’s bathroom in feces.

Retaliation.

The agency called in a hazmat team for cleanup; but, of course, cleanup here is pushed onto the maintenance guys because cheap labor.

Thinking about what had happened at the agency, I asked about the timing of what was happening in the pool bathroom …… did it start after the rent increase?

She said no, it had happened before …… "a recurring problem".

Still sounds like someone is very very angry with management about something, or just sick.

Someone in the room brought up the cameras, and couldn’t management figure out who the feces painter is from viewing the cameras.

Manager said she’s been doing that, and the culprit has been narrowed down to a possible suspect, not a homeless person getting onto the property, but to a resident with insufficient proof to confront him.

In the meantime, the office is monitoring the camera, watching the suspected resident, and thinking of changing the key we all have for that bathroom to a system where residents have to ask staff for the bathroom key, sign for it, bring it back. They are also thinking about shutting that bathroom down altogether.

I don’t think they can shut it down because health codes require a dedicated poolside restroom; but no problem I, if they shut it down, because I never ever use it because it’s communal and mixed sex. I envision guys missing the target, shaking leftover urine over the seat and floor, would rather die than open that door, see what I envision. If I’m in the Community Room and have to go, I head back to my unit, take care of business, return to the Community Room.

So, anyway …… What lights up a socker stadium? A match.

Why did the donut go to the dentist? Because it needed a filling.

The Week that Was

We had a bit of a weather cooldown on Tuesday. It was still hot, but bearable, so I was able to log in a mile around the complex.

Saw that a unit, which had recently been vacated — the resident located elsewhere on the complex, has an obvious new resident. Obvious because the previous resident wasn’t this kind of decorative.

Elsewhere on the complex was this creatively decorated patio.

I'm guessing this is where those people relocated to.

While sitting on the patio, I’ve often grabbed the phone to take a pic of my favorite sight — my two elderly boys on the walkway but, slow walking as they are, I've not been able to get to the phone quick enough to capture a photo … that is until on my walk that day.

The boys, who look like they could be twins, do not live together. At the end of the walkway, one hangs a right, the other a left. So, I don’t know how they came to be such seemingly close friends …… always together.

I may have to one day come up with an excuse to approach, while the two are sitting outside the gate, engaged in their favorite activity of watching traffic go by, start a conversation, find out what their story is.

I bet drivers passing by, seeing not only the two boys but often other residents, sitting on walkers, with nothing better to do than watch traffic go by see it as sad.

I, on the other hand, think us residents to be content, at peace. Don't need a lot of what those driving by have and do to make us happy, feeling blessed just to be able to sit and watch the world roll by.

Wednesday was another day of bearable weather.

I’d planned to watch the eclipse that day, eclipse glasses at the ready.

Then learned, California would experience no visible eclipse activity as the path was restricted to far northern regions — Alaska, Canada. So, I decided instead to join the Usual Suspects in the Community Room for crafts but took the long way around …… twice around the complex to log in another mile.

Told myself this was doable …… that I could, at the very least get up and out, manage one mile a day, so long as the weather cooperated.

That motivation lasted about as long as you readers probably expected, as today is Saturday and I’ve not been out walking since Wednesday.

Oh well.

I didn’t participate in Wednesday’s craft session, just watched, took photos for the residents’ facebook page, as they made picture frames using stencils, plexiglass, cardboard.

As for what I’ve been doing locked in my unit, other than watching Korean and Chinese Dramas on TikTok and Facebook, lusting after the handsome young Asian men I see on the screen, I’ve been finishing up yet another scrapbook …… one I started in '23, which chronicles my own personal activities, got sidelined due to the birth of great grandkids, making books chronicling their activities.

Once my '23 book is finished, the plan is to do one more, that will cover my activities between then and now, which I sense will be the last chronicling my own personal activities.

The hardest part of scrapbooking is coming up with a title page. I've come up with a system where I sometimes make the title page look like magazine covers, like this one ……

Since this next book will be the last of my personal activities, I'm thinking of doing something with one of the few photos I have of my toddler years, titling it HOW IT STARTED.

In addition to scrapbooking, I've also been throwing together tropical wear for the Resident’s End of Summer Event.

Not finding, in storage, the grass skirt I’d previously made, I grabbed raffia when I was at the craft store purchasing that Venus Flytrap and, in between scrapbooking and lusting after young Asian men in K/Cdramas, building a skirt.

Also, while at the craft store, I looked for blocks and letters to arrange in 8647, but didn't find anything usable.

The fact is, I tried, LOL.

So, anyway, as I was saying …… in addition to scrapbooking supplies, there's currently grass-colored raffia everywhere.

Still not sure I’ll actually have the guts to wear the skirt … won’t know until the day of; but if I don’t wear it, it will turn into Skelly the Skeleton’s outfit for this year’s Halloween patio display.

Did You Make an Appointment?

Received an email on Saturday from Debra of She Who Seeks that Michael’s Craft Store was selling 46" Flytrap.

I thought Michael’s had long ago gone out of business, converted to an online store, but quickly googled, learned there was still a Michaels in Redlands — a doable 30-minute drive. So, I headed out in the heat yesterday, to check the plant out.

It was huge.

Fortunately, there was a 36" option.

It even has a spider on one of the bulbs.

There was even a door wreath available.

I passed on the door wreath.

I also passed on the cute doggie by the door, as Skelly the Skeleton already has a dog/Cujo, that I'm thinking of rehoming.

The 36" I chose is potted.

The plant is described as being a mixture of styrofoam, polyethylene, polyester, PVC, iron wire, cement, and labeled "for indoor décor use", but it didn't say "only", so we'll see how it handles outside.

I’m not at all sure that anything, other than the iron wiring, is good feng shui; but I’ve got enough good energy around to counter if the other materials are problematic.

So, anyway, the plan was to free Audrey from the pot it’s planted in, add it to the skeleton planter but, the material holding it in place is immune to the drill, screwdriver and hammer chisel, so I ended up positioning it as is and not liking it.

Reeassessing the arrangement this morning, I realized I could plant Audrey, pot and all, inside the skeleton planter and did.

Maybe the heat of the sun will soften the material, and I can chisel Audrey out of the pot altogether; but the current situation, of placing the plant, pot and all, in the skeleton planter with the little 25-inch Audrey, is working.

Returning from Michaels I found I was blocked from getting up the walkway and the stairs by three dirt bikes, lined up in a row.

I assumed the bikes belonged to people visiting White Haired Neighbor, started to yell up that I was blocked, but instead decided to maneuver my body through, around, between the bikes, careful not to knock one over.

Having made it through the first two bikes, the last bike being positioned right in front of the stairs, was more challenging. However, the way it was leaning, gave me just enough space to squeeze through, plant my feet on the first step.

Having managed the gauntlet, walking up the stairs, WHN’s door opened.

To prevent whoever was planning on coming out from running into me, knocking me back down the stairs I'd worked so hard to access, I said, "I’m coming up". The door closed.

Just as I reached my door, WHN’s door opened again. She and a handsome man, who she introduced as her son, and two young boys, introduced as her grandsons stepped out.

"You made it through the bikes", said her son.

"If my hips had been any wider, I’d not have made it", said I, and they all laughed.

Seeing me holding a 36" Venus Flytrap, WHN said, "I like your plant. Getting ready for Halloween".

"Not really?" said I. "I'm Halloween all year round."

"A lot of people are", said she.

I wish some of that lot of people were living here, so I wasn't the only one with a fetish for skeletons and other oddities, LOL.

Before I got inside my unit, WHN asked, "Did you ever call down and make arrangements to get your pipe cleared?"

"No. It’s like I said, if they don’t care, I don’t care".

"I still don’t understand", said she. "He was here, the equipment was here. It was just mean".

She’s not wrong.

Later that evening, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Looking through the blinds in the kitchen, I saw it was the Talker.

I was not appropriately dressed for company …… wearing only a tank top and panties. So, I opened the door a crack, went to say, "I don’t have any pants on" and before I could finish the sentence, she said, "I don’t care. I’m mad" and barged right in.

So, there I was not fully clothed and took a guess at what had so disturbed her. "MAGA?", said I.

"MAGA, Painted Rock Lady and Lu", said she; all three now being described as "Those bitches". LOL.

After she’d got some of what upset her out …… enough to calm down to where I could point out the absurdity of my state of undress, I told her to "sit", went to the backroom, slipped on shorts, and let her talk about the girls having let her down, a breakup with that 50-year-old she was dating, and family issues for 2 hours.

She was not only over it all by the time she left, but laughing. So, my work was done.

However, the thing is …… since it seems I can no longer let myself be comfortable in my own space, because folks are knocking, catching me in various stages of undress, I'm seriously thinking about changing my boots doormat to something like this ……

Or this ……

Knock Knock Knock, Day 2

Shortly after noon today, there was another knock knock knock on the door.

It can't be little Knock Knock, because she’d gone home with her parents, thought I; and assumed correctly it had to be my White-Haired Neighbor, once again catching me wrapped in my sarong, because I had no intentions to seize the day.

She said maintenance was currently in her unit. That she’d approached one of the maintenance guys when she saw him outside, he had grabbed his equipment, come up to her unit, was currently addressing the condensation pipe over the tub, clearing the pipe of dust and grime so her tub would not get the rust stains I’d spoken of.

Interesting …… inasmuch as we are warned not to approach the guys when they are out and about, that we absolutely must put in a workorder.

She said that, since he was here, did I want him to clear my pipe as well.

I said sure, quickly dressed in day wear.

Then, she knocked again, had a what the hell look on her face, said she doesn’t understand it but maintenance had said no, they could not clear my pipe, that I’d have to put in a work order.

"That doesn’t surprise me", said I.

"But they are here now, and you’re right next door", said she.

"Yes. I know it doesn't make sense, that it’s petty", said I, "But not making sense is how things work around here".

"Since he’s here, why don’t you call the manager now and request it?".

"I’ve lived here 14 years, have been through the ringer with management and maintenance. The maintenance guys we have now are good, they know me, like me, and I have no problem with them. But the way things work around here are strange. I’ve accepted that, but have learned how to protect my peace from the strangeness. So, for now, I’m accustomed to cleaning the rust, won’t be calling the manager or putting in a workorder. I’m at the stage where if they don’t care, I don’t care."

She said, "I understand because I had problems with the manager over where I lived for 34 years. He had a problem with cats, had trapped two cats for three days, so I reported him to the ASPCA. After that he kept finding issues with me, tried to get me evicted. So, I understand."

She walked away with a look on her face that read she was stunned/couldn’t believe that, since maintenance was here, the equipment was here, why he couldn’t do my unit; and I hope she told him what I'd said, that "If they don't care, I don't care".

Wait until she finds out she’ll have to pay for overhead lighting, garbage disposals, and whatever else maintenance issues management decides to bill residents for.

Plus, because she didn’t put in a workorder, but got one of the guys to come to her unit, handle the A/C condenser pipe, the entire complex will probably get notices to our doors to "Not bother the Maintenance Workers when they are out and about".

Other than that, it’s all peaches and crème around here. We even, at long last, have a management-sponsored event coming up — "Resident’s End of Summer Event, join us by the pool for food, games and prizes, 11am – 3pm, Tuesday, August 25, wear your best tropical attire".

In other news, I received bad news from the seller of the Boot Urn. Emailing my height and weight, asking if ashes would fit, he or she replied, the boot holds "130 cubic inches which is approx 130lbs precremation".

I am considerably over 130 pounds, so bummer with my plan to go in style.

Knock Knock Knock

Little Knock Knock was to have returned home day before yesterday/Monday but, when I walked into Arts and Crafts yesterday, there she was … decorating a jar.

She said she’d be leaving later that day, wanted to take a picture with me but wanted to wait until later, when Grandma Talker returns, have her take the pic.

So, when I returned to my unit, I didn’t immediately take off the bra, slip into comfortable clothing, but remained make-up on and ready for her knock on the door to go outside, take the pic.

That knock never came, so I guess Grandma Talker returned late, didn’t want to bother me, Knock Knock returned to her parents pictureless.

So, imagine my surprise, when a little after noon today, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Though my face was together/makeup on, I’d not yet slipped out of my comfortable Bob Marley Sarong into daywear, was going to have to tell Knock Knock to wait until I got dressed.

Opening the door, sarong pulled tightly to not expose too much flesh, it wasn’t Knock Knock, it was my new neighbor, the White-Haired Neighbor (WHN).

She looked flustered, said no one was in the office, and she was having a problem with a leak in the bathroom from a pipe in the ceiling, hanging over back of the tub.

"I've been told it's supposed to leak as it's where the condensation from the A/C flows" said I, but that, over time, it creates a rust color along the walls and tub that I clear up with Zep Acidic Cleaner.

The A/C condenser pipe is probably not over the tub in other complexes and homes, but we're special here … different, like in having to pay for repairs.

She said okay, she wouldn’t worry about it, but that the heat was getting to her. That even with the A/C running and the blackout curtains she installed to keep the sun out, it was 88 degrees and intolerable in her unit. That sometimes the weather outside her unit is cooler than inside.

That’s true. I’ve experienced it myself when I step outside and find, hot as it is, it’s not as hot as inside my unit and can’t figure where the extra degrees are coming from. I’ve actually sometimes thought I’m not alone in this unit, that there are other invisible beings living here with me, their energy heating up the place. However, the fact that WHN is experiencing the same phenomena means either we both have invisible beings or it’s just a fluke that heat is rising from whatever is going on downstairs, giving us those extra degrees.

So, anyway, the weird thing about WHN knocking on my door this morning to vent is that, since she moved in, I've been having this recurring sense that she won’t be living her long, would end up moving.

She didn’t say she was already thinking about moving, possibly somewhere to a downstairs unit where it's cooler, just that she can't take the heat, has been spending most of her time at her son’s place; that where she was living previously for 34 years, never got this hot.

"Why, after 34 years, did you move?" asked I.

"I couldn’t get along with the manager".

"Well, I’m sorry you’re having such a time adjusting to how hot our units get, but it’s not going to get any better. I’ve told others that this is the hottest Summer I’ve experienced here, that it gets hotter every Summer so, with global warming, it’s just not going to get any better".

Our conversation ended with her looking just as frazzled as when the conversation began.

I heard her door open shortly after, heard her leave. Probably headed to her son’s place to escape the uncomfortableness in her unit.

When Crafty Lady, on Tuesday, told me that yesterday’s Crafts would be decorating glass jars, I decided to join in, do something different that I’d seen on the internet where, instead of decorating the outside of the jar, as the others did, to mod podged fabric to the inside of the jar.

I bet none of you can figure out which creation is mine 🤣🤣.

Our 88-year-old arrived late, so I didn’t get a pic of her completed jar but, the way she’s attaching pearls to the outside, I can tell the finished jar is going to be a masterpiece.

I'm going to have to catch her out and about, ask if I can come to her unit, get a pic of the finished project for the Residents' FB page.

Knock Knock's finished jar came out equally masterpiece fabulous.

Wazzup?

Still not much going on, except this month’s bingo games have been cancelled, MAGA and Talker had another dust up, the Baker and Di also had a dust up. It went 2.0 …… got physical.

Snug as a bug in a rug under the A/C, working on scrapbooking, cleaning the spice rack of expired spices, reorganizing the kitchen cabinet, I’ve been getting news of the dustups second hand from the parties involved.

Talker tells me MAGA is still following her around, trying to engage/get close and, as usual, has been involving herself in things that are none of her business and aggravating others. Like when she wormed her way into one resident’s life, the resident let her guard down and expressed being depressed.

MAGA feigned worry about the woman’s mental health, called the police, who arrived to check on the woman.

She didn't appreciate it. Expressed to others that she felt betrayed/embarrassed. Withdrew even further because of it.

Then, when Patricia/one of our Usual Suspects passed away, MAGA got involved, feigned being closer to Patricia than Patricia would have allowed, inserted herself into the family’s business.

Another of our Usual Suspects/Louise was out-of-state visiting her daughter, fell, broke a hip and is now recuperating in an out-of-state rehab, staying in contact with Talker and the Baker.

MAGA is losing her mind running around trying to insert herself in Louise’s business, trying to get Louise’s telephone number.

Louise doesn’t like MAGA, would not appreciate a telephone call, we all know this. So, MAGA somehow found out Talker is the point-of-contact, asked Talker for Louise’s location and telephone number. When Talker said she couldn’t give Louise’s personal information to her, MAGA began badgering her for it. When Talker pushed back, MAGA accused Talker of being aggressive and words were exchanged.

Talker needs a restraining order but instead reported the following around, harassing to the office.

Not that anything will be done by management, but so there will be a record on file.

So now, word on the grapevine is to let our families know that if and when we pass away, be on guard for MAGA to try to get involved with our families.

I myself am drafting a text message to granddaughter and Twin 2 to not be fooled by, stay away from, do not be polite to, give no information to MAGA when my time comes.

Speaking of which, I’d previously mentioned Twin 2 gifted me with a cremation package. Since then, I’ve been thinking about wanting my ashes in a cowboy boot cremation urn.

Found it.

At $253.50, I haven’t ordered yet, but I will.

So, anyway, the Baker tells me her dustup with Di occurred when the organizers had gathered in the Community Room to plan bingo, learned the office will be closing early on the days planned for bingo, causing the Community Room to be locked up, decided to cancel August bingo.

At one point, the Baker was on the phone checking something to do with the results of doctor ordered lab work, the results being too high. Di walked into the room, began telling the girls about the woman she testified against being released from prison.

The girls keep doing what they were doing, the Baker on her phone, the others doing whatever, no one engaged.

Di became furious, yelled, "No one f__king cares about what’s happening to me"!

Now let me just say here that, if you haven’t already figured it out from previous postings about her, the Baker is the sweetest, kindest, most generous/patient human being ever …… darn near a Saint.

Di isn’t a bad person, she’s just a basic human …… complicated.

Baker said that when Di yelled no one f__king cares about what’s happening to me, "I lost it. Told Di that no one is paying attention because we’ve all heard a version of it over and over and over"; and, with one of her hands, she grabbed Di by the arm, grabbed her walker (a replacement walker???) with the other hand, escorted Di and the Walker to and outside the door.

"Well, damn", laughed I. "You got physical. Ushered her out the room".

Asking the Baker if she’s seen Di since, she said "She actually returned a few minutes later. Apologized for the outburst".

No one paid attention, no one engaged.