Wednesday, October 18, 2006


This is the cutest pumpkin. It's outside the door of an apartment just down from me. We aren't supposed to have anything outside our doors on the floor--not even a mat--so I wonder if they'll let them keep the pumpkin out there? They have so far. It's been there close to a week, I think. They have informed us that they can remove anything left outside on the floor and charge us for the removal. I hope it stays till Halloween.
Hansel and Gretel got so carried away a few days ago that there were more small papers than ever before! The shredded paper and pieces of a cookie package from the vending machine downstairs had trailed the entire length of the hallway and even down the stairwell? This afternoon when I went down to get my mail there was a notice posted from the office about the "high volume of shredded garbage being found throughout the hallways and stairs"--also asking people not to place their garbage on their balconies because the wind blows the trash out onto the yard. So, Hansel and Gretel have been warned. Wonder if it will do any good--or just inspire them?
I have never been able to figure out why people are not appreciative of the gift and favor of being able to live in low income apartments? Dagan and I lived in them a couple of times when he was little and saw the same kind of disrespect and vandalism. I just don't understand it--never have. And it's not just an apartment living problem. I have lived in apartments most of my adult life and, yes, people can be messy and noisy--but almost all the actual vandalism I have seen has been in low income apartments. Even the very cheapest regular apartments I lived in didn't ever have the abuse given them that these low income units get. ??
It has always made me think that the residents feel ashamed to be here--that probably their own self-hatred comes out in this destructive manner. ?? They had four large stuffed chairs down on the main floor when I moved in here (and the building was only a couple of years old at that time) and one of them had a broken back. That one was repeatedly abused until the top edge of the back sagged so badly into a V that they finally had to remove it altogether--and they often pull the remaining three (one of which I think has a broken back now, too) all over the foyer down there.
There used to be vases and baskets of fake flowers on the tables in the entryway and hallways. They were repeatedly torn apart and thrown on the ground--till they were finally removed. Somebody placed an ugly old Christmas vase on our table up here outside the elevator and they have basically left it alone. They've twisted the wire ribbon up several times, but I haven't seen it on the floor--yet.
They have stolen and destroyed things people have hung outside their doors. (Glad nobody wants my flower painting-hehe!) I have found the pumpkin in the middle of the hallway already once. (Thank God they didn't smash it! Knock on wood!)
Two different end/corner garages have been driven into and smashed in--dreadfully! The people couldn't use their garages for many, many months until they finally repaired them. Looked awful--the worst one was right as you drove in behind our building.
There's always trash blowing about in the yard and parking lot. Trash is scattered across the field that they're grating behind the far garages. Some of that comes out of the dumpster--from the people who do not close up their trash bags like they are supposed to. Not a rule to take lightly up here with the North Dakota winds! People do set their smelly trash bags and muddy shoes/boots outside in the hallways at night--I know because I am usually up late and often walking down to slip movies in the out box in the middle of the night.
But--me--I am so grateful to be here!! I love it, to be honest. I have an elevator for my bad knees and that allows me to move things myself with my cart. I rent a washer and dryer to make my life easier--right in my own apartment. I have made an enclosed porch out of my balcony and they allowed me to do that! I love the huge windows (grateful mine aren't leakers, as I recently discovered) and all the light I get here. I have a pantry, a storage area on my floor, and a garage (which I was allowed for storage even tho I don't have a car!). All the appliances are newer. Anything I have needed repaired they have responded to quickly. They even replace the long flourescent light bulbs in the kitchen if they go out!
Maybe it is because the majority of the residents are young couples with children? Maybe they are so filled up with unfulfilled dreams and are more resentful of the crushing they are enduring? I don't know. It has always puzzled me. But then--people often puzzle me. I have often been overwhelmed with this desire to just put my arms around people to hold them and comfort them--to let them know that things aren't so bad--they are okay--God/The Universe loves them--don't be so afraid/angry--material things aren't as important as they think they is like being able to feel the internal wounds of others. I spent years trying not to feel them--to feel their pain. I have tried to surround myself with protection--and it works pretty well. (It was often overwhelming when I was young--and I felt it off animals, too.) But I feel the pain as I walk down to the mailbox at 3am and see they've started carving on the walls by the elevator buttons and on the elevator door. For a moment it fills me with a sadness....a hurt.
Anyways, not to leave on a dark note today. I have to find places for plants before Saturday. The hangin plant that was behind the porch chair outside is now inside in the corner by the porch door.
The philodendron that was in that corner spot is now waiting on top of a bookcase in the living room.

The spider plant from the porch is now hanging in the bedroom in front of the window.

And the asparagus fern that had been in that spot is now waiting--draped over it's relative--on top of one of the dressers in the bedroom. It doesn't look as happy as the philodendron. Doesn't get any light there.

Maria made it over last night!! It was so good to see her. Maria always lifts my spirits. Since her young son has practice (I forget what sport), she will come again next Tuesday night for a short visit. A short visit is better than no visit at all, right?! She's always so busy. Maria is a shining, sensitive soul!

Well, I am going back to work on a secret project for Dagan and Leah for Christmas. Can't say anything about it or put pictures up till after Christmas, of course. They rarely ever read my blog (they are too busy and tell me they hear everything, anyways), but they do occasionally peek at it. You are the most boring to those closest to you, I guess--chuckle! I am just chatty Mom to them! They have already heard most of my stories over the years, too, so they aren't too interested in reading them, either. The chatty mother syndrome put me in mind of Louie Anderson a couple of days ago--I got one of his specials from Netflix to watch today! :)


  1. Anonymous8:12 AM

    Hey Rita-
    Stopped by to see how life is going for you and loved your latest post. Wanting to hug all those hurting people and let them know they are loved and of value, what a big, beautiful heart you have!

    My former pastor said to me once(she's the friend that had the horrible car accident & is now in a wheelchair)she thought I'd make a pot of soup for everyone in the world if I could. I think those of us that live with pain, physical and/or emotional, do gain more compassion for others from our experiences. And I love to make soup for people, like a warm hug for their tummies :-)

    And was glad to hear you had a visit from your friend and there will be more to come. Isn't it wonderful to have people in your life that spending time with makes you feel so good?!!!!

    Am intrigued by your secret gift making- if you tell me about it in an email I promise I won't spill the beans :-)

    Be well,

  2. Greetings KT, Soup Lady!
    You have been such a delight to get to know! I am so glad we met thru Eons! I will email you and let you in on the secret...
    Love, Rita


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