susandennis | Club/home/cult

When my parents were getting ready to move into a place like Timber Ridge, they had made the decision but were in different places in terms of getting comfortable with it. Daddy called it the club - 'when we're moved into the club, we'll...' Mom called it the home - 'wonder if they will let us do xxx at the home'. But, here, of course, I now, quite fondly, call it the cult. But, only here. Can't see too many of the inmates here understanding my sentiment.

I had to finish the puzzle in the elbow this morning. For one thing, it was either that or reorganize the closet. But, mainly, it was to stick it to Ingrid. Ingrid is the problem neighbor - she's a real situation. She has a whole slew of problems that she happily shares with anyone who will listen. She is incapable of having any conversation that does not - 3 sentences in or fewer - include the fact that she is gluten intolerant and/or has insomnia.

Anyway, last night she was working on the puzzle when I walked by. Later, she tapped on my door and came in demanding "Are there pieces missing from that puzzle?? I think there are pieces missing." I assured her that I had no way of knowing and she went off muttering about how perfectly horrible people were for not leaving a note about missing pieces."

This morning, I saw that there were sill 50ish pieces left. So I had to finish just to show here. Sure enough - not a single one missing.

Now I am doing laundry. I need to go to Costco before Tuesday when the sale ends. Coffee. BUT I think going on Monday is silly and tomorrow I can go while the cleaner cleans.

So... now... it's time to tackle the closet. The cats are piled into their box so they are not going to be happy but, tuff noodles.