BIG MIRACLE AND OTHER THOUGHTS

I'm driving the BUS for The Home now. I like it. I have to pull myself up to get in the drivers seat. It is a little high. Then when I get out I have to get into position so I can drop to the ground about 8 inches. I do wish my legs were longer. We have had two successful outings with the wheelchairs going. You can’t believe how happy that makes me. We left twice before without those two as I could not get the lift to work. I cannot take the disappointment they faced. I think I have the lifts little secrets figured out now.

I got a note from My friend Brent that he and Liz, his wife, are extras in the movie Big Miracle. He was my roommate on my cruise to Alaska a few years back and then he and his wife moved to Alaska a few months later. They auditioned as extras and were accepted and appear in six or seven scenes. My whole family plans to go see Big Miracle on Tuesday as a family Valentines gift to each other. I was in Poulsbo with a group today just to look around and enjoy this quaint little tourist town so bought a few very nice chocolates for the night. We all plan to study Brent's appearance on the screen schedule so we don't miss him in the movie. I believe his longest time on screen is the restaurant scene behind Drew Barrymore. He and his wife are eating. I do wonder if they actually ate anything. We are all looking forward to it.

I preach again on this weekend. Brent sent me a note earlier talking about messy lives. I am using that as a theme for this series. No one gets through life without some mess or another. Mostly we all have several messes. No one is untouched. I will use examples from some of the great characters of Scripture: Adam and Eve (they first parents had their son kill his brother – how hard is that?), Abraham (the father of our faith told what we call a little white lie. Sarah was his sister, very far removed, but he neglected to mention she was also his wife), King David (where do we start – the man after God’s on heart was an adulterer a murderer, and a weak minded man when it came to his daughter’s rape), Peter (denied Christ three times – I have heard several people say “I would not have done that.” Really), Paul (He got so angry at Barnabas for wanting to take John Paul on a missionary trip, that it ended their team relationship, but expanded the mission), and maybe even my own life. I am starting with a clip from "Hoarders." I also took a few shots of my own apartment at it's worse, but don't know yet if I will use them. I suppose it will be a matter of whether I am willing to be embarrassed.

While I reconsidered off and on right up through Friday, I am not applying for the Resident Commissioners position with the Housing Authority. There is just way too much unknown. I have no idea what I would be getting into. While I would like to see some things changed, I like the ministry I have here. I have added driving the bus. That is enough for now.

Things are going fairly well around here. It’s calm. There were even two mortal enemies on the bus to Poulsbo today and were able to completely avoid each other so there were no conflicts. That's a step in the right direction.

I have also decided to return the PC computer I bought. Maybe I never said I bought a new computer, but I talked about it. I really cannot afford it. I will muddle along with my love-able old Mac. It may be on its last legs, but so am I. I will keep it until it dies. When that happens, I will most likely give up the newsletter I do and go back to using the Library computers for emails and blogs. When that happens I will save $50-60 on the cable line. That will be a good thing.

UPCHUCK AND MORE

Every once-in-a-while I get hit in the stomach with whatever and it begins to leak out of both ends. I start with the runs that seem more like a sudden explosion. I did manage to get to sleep and at 2:30 I began the upper volcanic explosion that felt like it might last as long at Mount St. Helens. It kept coming and coming and coming and — have you had enough yet. Just one more, the next day I had the runs all day. Enough said.

That was yesterday. I did get a good jump on reading The Help. Since I have already seen the movie I am delighted about how closely the movie follows the book. This is only the second time a movie has motivated me to get the book. My neighbor across the hall loaned me her copy. There are three descriptions of people in the book that are physically dramatically different than their movie counter parts. However, I will give the actors credit, they certainly convey the right spirit and attitude.

So today is my first day I sorta fell like myself. That is if I have any idea what it means to feel like myself. Would that be my 16-year-old-self, my 24-year-old self, my 35-year-old self, or my 50-year-old self? I remember each of these phases and that is not what I felt like. I think I feel lie my 80-year-old-self. I’m not that old yet, but went the way of the missing cat. Gone, but where?

Work has been piling up. I have a terrible habit to pile my dishes in the sink until I have no clean ones. I managed to get a few done today so I could survive the weekend. I had no clothes for Sunday so I had to do laundry. But my book was calling. When I get hooked on a book I like that will consume me. I argue that I am retired, no one visits my apartment, my family is across the water for the weekend, and I can do all this later. When my eyes gat tired I watched a Netflix rental called John Rabe. In German, Chinese and English. You have to keep your eye3s open and read quickly. I missed some, but not much. Maybe I will be able to read faster when my hearing aids arrive.

John Rabe is a terrific true story of a German in Nanking, China, in 1937 when the Japanese were attacking China. He had been sent by Germany 27 years earlier to bui8ld a power plant. He had done a terrific job and was set to go home when the Japanese began the attacks. Stuck in Nanking negotiated a safe zone and saved over 200,000 Chinese from certain death. There’s a lot more, but this isn’t a movie review — is it?

I spend some time on the porch with the Precious Ladies of The Front Porch.  Chas is usually there but he goes to church on Saturday night. My laundry was drying so I joined them until the crowd got so large I could not hear everything. I am now very aware of my lass of hearing. I now realize how often I say “pardon.” I talked to my daughter on the phone today and just skipped over something she said that I did not understand. I wondered how often I did that. Pretending! Takes me back to acting days — I guess I’m still in those. Also, the larger the group, the less interested I am in hanging out. I suppose I’m frustrated by the lack of my ability to focus.

I guess that will all change. I will either be like my brother David who is glad to have his hearing aids, or like my oldest brother Harlow who hated them and refused to wear them. His children hated visiting him since he could not hear them and gave up trying. I don’t want that.

FIRST ANNIVERSARY

It’s March 19, 2011. I have been writing this blog for one year as of today. I’m shocked. I have tried diaries, journals, and notebooks at various times throughout my life. None have lasted over a month. I get busy doing something else and it is gone from my mind. I even started out pretty good here then began to miss a few days. Actually, I’m surprised I even came back. There have been more than one occasion when the thought of continuing put me to sleep.

I have no real reason to write this thing. I was encouraged to do so by Duncan, but that never kept me going before. I have been lectured about the value of journaling to no avail. I admit there are things I wish I remembered accurately. I would love to write about the years I kept proctor boys. But it would be a work of fiction at this point. The details are blurry. Actually, fiction may be the best way to do it.

I have tried to journal about my Bible reading. I felt bad when I could think of nothing to write about or nothing jumped out at me. I was a professional religious type person. Surely I sould have insights daily. Ha! It didn’t happen. Sometimes I thought I was a very secular religious professional. Shush! Don’t tell anyone! The clergy already have a bed rap by the likes of the Bakers and others. On the other hand, I’m nobody so my lapses should not add much to the clergy damage.

I admit there is something fun about saying whatever comes into your head. It can be dangerous. I hope it hasn’t been.

I started writing because I though so much of what happened here was funny. It has taken a more serious turn with the huge emotional and legal battles of Chas and Olivia. I wish I could will that disaster away. It’s not going to happen. I lost some of the humorous tone with my own health problems. I moved from satirist to storyteller. The satirical commentator was what I wanted to remain. I have moments, but when there is pain, few of us maintain our humorous edge.

The truth is one never knows if anyone reads their blog without feedback. I love the comments (and help) I get for time to time. It motivates me. Even hard criticism is better than no criticism. At least it’s attention. Some attention is better than no attention. And I guess we write these things either for attention or because we have something we think is significant to say. I’m not saying much of anything so it must be attention.

By now writing has grown into somewhat of an obsession. I have been told many times by untrained, nonprofessionals that I should write. I’ve through about it for years. When teaching I wanted to write a text for an intro class. I concluded I was too inexperienced. I have written many articles about the state of the church and considered myself to cynical for anything by the Wittenberg Door (A satirical Christian magazine that may no longer exist). I have many pages of a biography I was writing for my family. Haven’t even finished that. Considered writing about my son from each of our points of view, but doubt I even understand his point of view. And to be honest, he was much smarter than I. The proctor boys I had were entertaining and challenging. It could have been my best try at comedy. They never really frustrated me, but I laughed a lot in secret and loved trying to out smart them. Even my failures are interesting.

I finally have almost enough data to write about living in an independent retirement home. I could probably turn it into a somewhat entertaining book, but I won’t. My heart would break if some people were identified. I also seriously lack the discipline and most importantly — I don’t want to. What I do like is writing snippets of life as it is. It reminds me that life should not be taken too seriously. All of us here have already had more pain in our lives that we can handle. Why would we want more. One just must laugh about human reaction.

The earlier fire alarm will be funny in a few days, Right now most are mad that we lost sleep. I’m not. I can sleep all day tomorrow and so can most of the others. But it will be more fun to get together and complain.

DRAMADY

Dramady! A strange little word juxtapositioned from opposing words to mean something no one ever really thought about. It is drama or a comedy. How can it be both? I can’t answer that. However, at coffee this morning the group agreed that dramady was the best word to describe life at “The Home.” My granddaughter proclaimed life here a total drraaama (drag it out) and possibly worse than junior high. That’s a terrible indictment since junior high is possibly the worse place our culture has ever developed. It sticks a large collection of immature adolescences in the same location where they terrorize, mock, hassle, annoy, criticize, lie, gossip, distort what truth, and make fun of one another and … wait a minute. Change one word and it fits seniors (got the word figured out). We have too much time, very little to do that is meaningful, and only bingo, dominos and puzzles to fill our “together” time.

As the kids say — GET A LIFE.

Today was St. Patrick’s Day, at least for lunch. It was a lousy turn out. About 20 people! The food was terrific as usual. There is nothing better than eating the food others prepare. At least that’s true for those of us tired of cooking for one. The day was benign — until Maria walked by Chas. I wasn’t more than 5 feet from the exchange but have no idea how it started. Maria was in line for a second time for more food (as I recall). Chas must have said something. It could have been to her, or maybe to the group at out table. I didn‘t pay much attention. I was laughing with Rocky over his tree cutting as he told how he got the job and some of the hassles of getting started on Saturday morning.

Suddenly there was Maria’s raised voice directed at Chas. I heard the volume. Not the words. She was mad. Next I heard. “What are you talking about?” Then Chas tried to explain. The explanation was not acceptable. She raised her voice a bit more and then Chas rolled out of the building without saying another word.

I shook my head and returned to the tree-cutting story - comedy. I thought the drama was over. Noooo… it was just beginning. After the meal, I was still sitting at the table with the cook finishing our food when Maria came to clean up. She came to out table and asked, what is wrong with Chas? The cook hates being asked about other people so said, I don’t know. Have you asked him? He tried to bite my head off. She then turned to me. I didn’t remember hearing any head biting. Doesn’t that have the sound of snap, crackle, pop (could be a cereal). Maybe a weak attempt at a joke. But to be honest — I don’t know what he said. She pumped us both to get agreement that he was a butthead. Well, yes, he can be. Was he like that at lunch, I don’t know?

She caught me again in our upstairs lounge. This might surprise you, but I didn’t know any more 30 minutes later than I did earlier. I do not consider myself closed to learning but I still have a very difficult time remembering things I never heard. Go figure. It was a great day, a little comedy and a little drama. Dramady – the activity to brings junior higher and senior citizens together.

AHOY! ICEBERG AHEAD! part 3

The captain asked to speak to Gail and I separately. While not clear on the why of that reasoning, it seemed like divide and conquer. I was confident that she and I were on the same page. We were in agreement. Neither of us wanted to go back to the party when the iceberg was approaching. I felt like the captain saw no problem with the danger approaching on port side. I struggled with what appeared to be his blindness. I wanted no part of dancing to destruction.

I was as clear as I could be. More over, I am beginning to think Olivia may have a mental illness. When she gets something in her mind, she will not let go. I shared my experiences.

Olivia has a personal need or desire nearly every day. She has a request of every crewmember she sees and when she doesn’t see one she calls for help. The head of maintenance dreads going by her stateroom. She seems to sense when he is near and has a request. He has threatened to jump overboard. He doesn’t mean it. He says that to express his frustration.

Corporate management of the cruise line attempts to appease the situation but is also getting frustrated. You can hear it in their voices and see it in their faces. They can do nothing until she and her gang actually decide to throw the large man over board. I have my doubts that they will ever succeed. They can’t life him.

Many of us would love to see Olivia disembark at the next port. But I am sure she would feel like she gave in to him and she does not give in to anyone.

There was at time when the maintenance manager entered her stateroom to check it out and measure areas so they could remodel another stateroom to meet all physical codes and standards standards. She was in a handicapped stateroom. She could not accept that it was only a fact finding mission and immediately began telling everyone she was going to be moved from her place so the large man could be put there because her room was larger. That was never said and never intended, but her extreme bitterness anchored there and grew. She added concerns about him being on any deck other than where the lifeboats were located. It was her attempt to keep him isolated from the areas she enjoyed. She just does not want to see him — EVER.

We have since learned that she filed a restraining order because she felt threatened about being put off the ship. No such threat occurred according to the cruise owner. It did not stop the gossip she fed the information animals. It was vicious.

I have no desire to return to any party no matter how entertaining it is, as long it appears we are headed to destruction. Get back on the bridge and steer this thing around the obstacles. Find a way to save the cruise. A communicable disease is now on board and beginning to be passed around. Many need to be quarantined before the whole ship is contaminated. I know I’m going to wear a mask every time I leave my cabin even if I hate wearing those things. Maybe I should disembark. Naw! There’s too much to see and do.

AHOY, ICEBERG AHEAD, part 2

The ships captain approached Gail and I near the lifeboats. It was dark and the moonlight was reflecting off bits and pieces on the right of the iceberg. It looked like a diamond in the glow of the light, a diamond maybe, but a dangerous one lurking below the surface with an unknown circumference and jagged edges. We might miss the obvious side, but will we miss what cannot be seen?

The captain is insistent that we return to the party. He is unconcerned about the iceberg. There are many in these waters and none have been a problem before. I know some about icebergs and much more about danger, but do not know these waters as this captain does. We are not convinced we should stay at the party. We are considering cutting a lifeboat free and dunning for our lives. But we agree to at least go to the door where the large man in the wheelchair is sitting. He looks lonely — maybe even scared. He feels his own fate is no longer in his own hands.

Earlier Olivia cornered a lady passing through the room to tell her about the problems with the man in the wheelchair. She is convinced he will tip the ship over. It’s not even reasonable. The woman attempted to escape her clutch. She explained she was in a hurry and really needed to get to her cabin for some sleep. After her release she approached Gail while the wealthy lady held court in the middle of the room. She told Gail she was very uncomfortable being recruited like that. Another also told Gail of the recruitment going on. Sides are being chosen and only one side is recruiting. I thought the meeting was to be secret. I guess Olivia believed it was to be broadcast.

The group around Olivia does not appear very. The mood is somber, maybe even angry. They are in a very serious discussion. Some are listening to Olivia and nodding in agreement, others in a smaller groups seeming to speak similar things. We watch. We listen. We begin a conversation with the man in the wheelchair. He is defensive. Not because of us, but because he feels under attack.

When did he leave the ballroom? Why did he leave? Was he surprised at what was being said? Should he have stayed to defend himself? How did he think it impacted him? He did not seem to know or even understand they want to throw him overboard. He did not know what they were plotting. He was hurt by comments made by three people. He was running the names of all guests through is mind to see if he could figure out who might be angry with him, but could only think of the three. He was unaware a campaign was developing that could destroy him if carried out successfully.

He listened to Gail and I. He seemed to hear our suggestions. But he was following his own track. He was withdrawing like a turtle into his shell. His head was disappearing. He was acting like he might be able to slip into oblivion and not be noticed. He knows he cannot exactly blend into the wallpaper, but thinks he can stay in his stateroom. He would only come out when necessary. Isolation will hurt him even more. He needs people as much as anyone, maybe more. His self-image is often at the bottom of the barrel. When he withdraws, he slips in depression.

While we are talking the waves of the water are growing. We can now feel the rock of the ship as the waves crash again the hull. Gail and I feel like we are the only defense he has. We agree to stand together. However, do not yet know if we will enter the discussion. We don’t want him thrown overboard, but are still waiting for those in authority to step up and be responsible. We want the captain back on the bridge. We want the ship line managers dealing with this threat of mutiny. Is no one in charge? Does no one have any courage to do the right thing? Will it really take two other passengers to save the man in the wheelchair? Maybe we should grab him and get all jump in the lifeboat, but I have no idea how we would get him in the boat.

AHOY, ICEBERG AHEAD! part 1

I feel like I’m on a cruise in the north Atlantic. The big party is in the main ballroom dancing to Glen Miller and his band of renown. It’s loud and lively. There’s plenty of liquor, laughter and luxury. It looks like everyone is there. The talk and singing is nothing if not joyous. I’m on the port deck with Gail listening to the party inside and in absolute turmoil about what I see coming. This danger could be seen coming for quite a distance. The captain has left the bridge and is inside observing the passengers. No one appears to be at the helm. No one seems to care. We see the iceberg approaching on the port side, or is it standing still and we are approaching it. Either way, it is beginning to look unavoidable.

When were first saw the obstacle in the distance we tried to warn of the impending danger. We were mocked. This ship cannot be damaged. It is unsinkable. Let the dancing continue. The ship is automated. It is designed to sense obstacles and take evasive action. It needs no captain on the bridge. We are not avoiding the obstacles and the captain is not there.

The one consolation is that Gail and I can see into the future — or maybe we are seeing in retrospect. We know we are not going down with this ship. Maybe it is because we are so close to the emergency lifeboats. Just in case, we have donned life vests. Admittedly we cannot swim well. Besides the waters are shark infested. Our situation, like everyone’s is about to become tense. Hard times are ahead.

Some passengers do believe the ship is listing to the port. Many are aware of this. A large, gentle giant sits in his wheelchair near the port doors. There are a lot of rumors and gossip about this man and his size. He has a very clear and powerful voice. One sophisticated lady dislikes even the sound of that booming but joyful sound. She is mounting a drive to have him tossed overboard. She is convinced it will level the ship out and remove any possible danger. She is blinded by her own spirit and desire to have a world around her that fits her view of the perfect world. Her control drives and hatred for anyone who does not fit her sterile view simply does not belong. She has removed in the dark objects she considers in appropriate (read she does not like). In secret, she has removed, relocated and/or rearranged information posts she does not approve, appreciate where they are placed or appear to be clutter. All her concerns are addressed under the guise of “concern” for the other passengers. But, alas, it is only one passenger is sees.

She has certainly not set the iceberg in place. But she is distracting all from seeing the present danger and placing every issue at the feet of one man whom she dislikes. She has even added concerns that are not accurate. Unfortunately, she is at the center of the deck surrounded by her disciples. She is preaching her doctrine of bitterness and hatred.

It reminds me of the sailors who threw the apostle Paul overboard to calm the storm. They all went down. I’m hanging on for the impact. We are getting closer. Gail and I have moved nearer the lifeboats.

RUMORS ABOUND

The rumors have begun and they are moving fast. Both Gail and I have been asked about “the meeting” from Thursday. It was a private meeting and neither of us will discuss it. That hasn’t stopped talk — or information flow.

Admittedly Gail and I have gotten together to exchange notes. We have a meeting with the bosses on Monday. We will explain why we have no intention of returning and plan to discourage Chas from going again. It was a nasty experience.

Today we learned from where the information flow was pouring — Olivia herself. She has already pulled several people aside to tell them about the meeting. Some never even knew there were a meeting, let alone one trying to help two people reconcile. But the more we hear the move we doubt it can ever be repaired. It does not appear Olivia will be happy until Chas is evicted. I do have one suggestion for her. If she does not want word of her gossip getting back to Gail or, don’t talk to people in our building. She has one convert here — Maria, but I doubt that other than herself, Maria and Sylvia there are open ears.

She tried to draw in my favorite cook this morning and the cook would not hear it. She said is had no bearing on here life and walked away. I wish everyone would do that, but this is too good to pass up. And since the new gossip about his language and comments to women is the kind of hot stuff that will make the rounds — it will get around — fast.

I have had only one experience with a very small community. When my parents retired to Hardy, NB, a town of about 160 on the Kansas-Nebraska border, it was the kind of place where everyone knew everyone else. On my first visit to them I took a morning walk to check out the two blocks of “downtown.” It was step back in time. The sidewalks were boards. Most buildings were boarded up. There was still a restaurant with three old dudes picking their teeth with straw. There was a small convenience type store, some food, some hardware, and some variety store goods. All of it was smaller than a typical 7-11. They had no Slurpees, but you could get bottled pop from an old trunk type dispenser. A friend taught me (as a child mind you) how to drink a pop out of one of those without removing the bottle. An opener and a straw would do the trick. Did I say I did that? Mistake. I heard one could do that. There was a store that appeared to having sewing goods. I never went in there.

The point (FINALLY) was that the handful of people I met on the streets of Hardy all called me by name. Remember, I had never been there. This community has the same feeling. By the way, there was also a bank that from the outside that appeared to be right out of Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. I loved that movie.

REPORT FROM THE FRONT LINES

I’m still exhausted. I want to go back on the record to say I was opposed to the method used to resolve the conflict between Olivia and Chas. It was intimidating just walking into the room. No one knew what to expect and the air was filled with a deathly quiet. I wanted to scream just to break the tension. Instead I sat and looked into the faces of everyone. Olivia sat tense like waiting for the sentence of the judge.

The resolution mob attack began with Chas saying, “I still want her to leave my things alone.” Olivia responded by asking what he said. He has a very loud voice. As each piece was repeated she said I heard that. So why… forget it, who cares.

The initial 10-15 minutes was rather innocuous, then Sylvia spoke and all (what’s that word people use) broke loose. She clearly had an agenda and she went at Chas in a way designed to hurt without mentioning is name. I kept waiting for the moderator to put the clamps on as we had agreed there would be no personal attacks. But Chas handled it himself. He left.

Gail and I were both disappointed, but Sylvia was regurgitating an issue most of us, and especially Chas, believed was solved. Both Gail and I defended his departure as the only way he could not explode and say things he would not regret. Then Olivia with Sylvia and one of their cohorts began a three-hour tirade on Chas. I was afraid of this.

Early in the runaway, uncontrolled battle of the bulge, I was accused of believing people can change and told how wrong I was. I laughed and had to wait until that load of verbal diarrhea ended before I could attempt to clean up the mess. Neither Olivia nor Sylvia believes anyone can change. I glanced at Gail and both knew there would never be a resolution, but we plowed ahead. I restated the matter and mentioned I believed this meeting was futile. Resolution is impossible if neither party was willing to make any changes. If people cannot change what happens when they learn something new? We change to incorporate that new knowledge. I did not mention the offensive language that God can change a heart, but I spent 37 years of my life with that concept as the foundation of my occupation. If a minister doesn’t believe that they are in the wrong place.

No amount of talking led the two principles to do anything but raise the ante of their explosion. At that point I sat back and listened just to see how far they would go. I visibly showed disgust when he was accused of lengthy expressions of profanity and sexual language directed at women. I had never heard anything of this kind. I could not believe what I was hearing. I was shocked. If this is true why I had never even heard of murmur in this gossip filled place. If this were true why was this the first time it had ever been addressed.

After three hours I could not take it any longer. My bladder was about to burst. I left to resolve that issue and decided not to return. Thirty-minutes later Gail left and it was still going. With us gone they were free to have a group rant and preach to the choir.

Gail and I went to check on Chas and ask some very difficult questions. In the course of the debate I had just left, I hear three comments of Olivia’s that I knew to be lies. I now believe these latter accusations are pure fiction. It appears that the group plans to do anything they can to get Chas evicted.

The fat lady has not sung and this is far from over. There will be more.

READ THE LABEL

A friend sent this little item to me on facebook today. I loved it.

“I figured out why I'm fat! The shampoo I use in the shower that runs down my body says ‘For extra volume and body’. I'm going to start using ‘Dawn’ dish soap. It says ‘ Dissolves fat that is otherwise difficult to remove’.”

I have been reading labels for several years now, its not because I’m a health fiend it was because I must. It stated with just looking for sugar. I rarely read more then was absolutely necessary. I needed to reduce my sugar intake. I hated that because I love sugar. Not handfuls of refined sugar licking my hand until its all gone. I wanted it in baked goodies. I will eat some candy, but have always had a hard time passing up pies, cakes, squares – especially what my wife made. I blame it all on her. She was an excellent cook. Now had she cooked like my mother I would probably be skinny. I loved mom, but she could not cook – at least not like my wife.

Each new disease has forced me to read more of the label. Now I need to know about fat, sodium, sugar. I have pretty much decided that if it tastes great, I should not eat it. I am sure that if I hate the food it will be good for me. At least I would eat less. The elimination of dairy has done me the most noticeable good. My whole system works like a car with a change of oil — smooth.

I wish people came with labels. I think I’m pretty good about reading people, but a crisp clear, concise label would help me get there faster. I want to know if they snap like a turtle. Then I could tape their mouth. Do they squeeze like a boa? I would stay out of range. Do they bite like a rabid dog? Look at the label and run. Those labels are easy. I am more concerned about the ones who change.

Great initial presentation, but will stab you in the back. Often you have to wait until you have been stabbed before you know who they are. Or how about love to get you to talk about your problems but cannot keep a secret. I solve that by telling everyone what one might think is a secret. That means there are no secrets. That really rattles a person.

I don’t want these labels stamped on their rears. It would be embarrassing to have them pull their dress up or pants down so I can check their label. Might see more than I should. I think they should wear these labels like a nametag. Hello, my name is Suzie. I’m a gossip. Be careful what you tell me. Hello, my name is Fred. I hate talking to people. Go away. Hello, my name is Betty. I’m looking for a man, any man will do, how about you?

I can pick much of that stuff up rather quickly, but since I’m in the label reading routine now, it would sure make my life easier. Hello, my name is Clyde. I like people. Why is it that I like myself so much?

Tomorrow is the big social group counseling experiment. A pile of people gathered to straighten two people out. I'm expecting a disaster, but I never liked Rogets theory of counseling. Do I hear you saying you are mad. YES! Just tell 'em like it is and forget the crowd. I can't even imagine the gossip that will come out of this.

WON THE PRICE IS RIGHT

Life is hoppin’ around here. I got to see and feel Maria rejection first hand. As far as I knew, we were good. I went to the upstairs lounge this afternoon to work on the puzzle. Maria and Gail were playing dominos. Things were pretty quiet. I greeted them both and then got out of their way.

There was a new clock by the puzzle table. I asked Maria if she bought it. No, it came from the apartment of the lady who just passed away. Then Gail asked if she got the TV. Yes, and several others things. She began through the list: shelving, a stool, kitchen items, the clock, a chair and A couple of others things if I remember right. Gail asked where she was going to put all these things. The TV is 48” so is sitting on a long credenza in the living room. She said she moved the other TV into her bedroom with her little one. She has two eyes so maybe she plans to watch a different station with each eye while going to sleep. Good luck.

She assured everyone that she had the perfect place for everything. I wanted to know what she did with her 36” TV case, but didn’t ask. Gail pushed a bit and told her she was clearing out things so there wouldn’t be so much for her daughter to have to take care of, Maria was shocked by that. It’s not your problem. Who cares what happens after you die. Her philosophy was very clear.

I heard part of her comments about helping clean the apartment over the weekend and how generous they were to offer her anything she wanted. It wasn’t quite like that. Another helper had a completely different story.

Then Olivia arrived and walked over to Maria. The domino games ended, Gail came over to the puzzle table and Olivia and Maria we talking very secretively. The irony is that they were mortal enemies three months ago. I would love to know what changed. Maria does not forgive. Maria must thing she is the only one who will take her to the casino.

I have suspected for sometime that we had another tenant who was wearing on everyone’s nerves. This lady took over my spot getting the free bread on Wednesday mornings. She cannot stop telling the leader of the team what to do and how to do it. She needed help hanging some pictures in her apartment today so the head bread lady went to help. The control was exhausting. That relationship is about to fall apart. The problem I face is at our monthly “Meal Out” event. Once a month we go to a restaurant. She always comes, but no one wants to sit near her and I have been asked by several to talk to her. I have been avoiding the inevitable. She complains about many things, calls the waiter and gets up from the table to go and tell the waited she is waiting for water. People feel embarrassed. They don’t want her to come. I am caught between a rock and a hard place. You see I don’t want her to come either. I may cancel the open call to eat out and invite a small group — that ought to get a lot of people mad. Better not!

Whoa is me, for I am undone — or I will be before this week is out. I need to talk to the bread lady and also attend the large group-counseling meeting for Chas and Olivia. I think I’ll go back to bed and be sick the day of the big meetings. I used to physically be able to make my self sick in grade school.

LET THERE BE PEACE

The weekends are often rather uneventful. It’s usually my own fault — I stay in my room. I clean things up, sleep a little extra and read — mostly. Today I spent time on a picky little job. I am grateful for the food and other items one can get at the food bank, but sometimes the hygiene bags, which are grab bags – no peaking, just picking – are a mixed bag. They try to provide shampoo, conditioner and toothpaste every time. It’s great I love to get whatever I can. All large bottles are only half full. They divide the contents for two people. But the tiny little travel bottles do get annoying. So today I emptied all those little bottles into large bottles and ended up throwing away a half a brown grocery bag full of empties. I had not more room in my storage space.

But tonight, Gail came to update me on the Maria situation. She said Maria is ignoring us. Could be. It has been so peaceful I hadn’t really noticed. This issue goes back to a few weeks ago when Kiki asked Lulu to cook a turkey she had. Maria tends to think of Kiki as her personal property. She orders her around and tells her what to do, when to do it and how to do it. She frequently calls her stupid, ignorant, idiot and other such endearing names. This time and for the first time, Kiki has stayed away from Maria. Maria already has little to do with me, Gail and Chas. Alice stays out of her way and has done so for a very long time. She played cards with her in the past but got tired of Maria’s attitude. When she lost all these people, three who had cars, she turned to Lulu to take her places.

She talked Lulu into taking her to 7-11 for their grand opening and the free hot dogs. Lulu had another errand she needed to run and it was agreed that would be all right. So Maria, Kiki and Lulu were off to 7-11. Maria directed Lulu all the way. I may be helpful to know that 7-11 is 8 blocks from here with one turn. She treated Lulu like she knew nothing. Lulu has lived in this area all her life.

They got their hotdogs and Maria wanted to know where they would eat. Lulu suggested the car. There is no place to sit inside 7-11 and the car wasn’t acceptable. They left the 7-11 parking lot without a clear decision. Lulu planned to head to her next errand. But the directions began to fly. Turn left. Lulu turned right without comment. There is no left turn coming out of the 7-11 parking lot. She was directed to cut through the banks lot to get back on track. Lulu turned the opposite way. Corrective instructions continued. Finally Lulu simply brought them back to the Home. They were not happy, but Lulu let Maria know she would never offer her a ride again. She was demanding, controlling and mean to Kiki. I am assuming that did not sit well

There is only one driver left in our building that will take her, a new lady without history. The rest of us are being boycotted. No one is disappointed in the least. Maria has also taken up with one from the other building who has a car. She has also hooked up again with Olivia. So she now hates Chas. It’s not that Chas has done anything to Maria, but one way to find friends is to dislike the same people. As long as you have common enemy’s life is good.

I don’t know what to do. I only have friends. I have no enemies. What a dilemma