I was so happy to be escaping. I saw a middle aged couple get out of their car, she looked star-struck at the "nice" house. It is pretty average, but it made me wonder where she lives that she was so impressed with a single story 3 bedroom brick house.
Chuck had a hard time getting out around all the traffic, but he did it. We went to work. We got there around 7:30.
I had a bag full of stuff, my kindle, etc. I had my coat and a lint roller, because Biscuit got it hairy. When I had time, I went over the coat again and again with the lint roller, until I got the worst of the cat hair.
I didn't do much work, I mainly read my book, "Buck Out" if you're interested. I did stock snacks a little, I didn't have what I needed but I did have a few things I could stock. I did that. I also stocked 4 cases of soda. For whatever reason, they are going crazy for root beer. I don't get that. I would think something like Mountain Dew, with all the overtime they are calling, but nope, it's the root beer. I also stocked some orange, 7-up, and 2 cases of Coke. Coke is always a good seller.
I verified the bottled vendor is still dead. The Y motor control went out last month, now it's the Z motor control (up and down). Hopefully it will also be a $20 plus labor fix. A girl can dream.
The stockroom looked fine so I didn't bother with it.
I read my book. The financial stuff was actually understandable so I was able to get it. Sometimes when authors get technical it's way above my pay grade. I can't understand it. I could, this.
Ron sent me a message around 10:30, he had managed to sleep through the party (with the use of 4 shots of alcohol). At least he hadn't staggered next door and said something unforgiveable, my main concern.
Well, my main concern was him falling trying to get next door to say something unforgiveable, but it didn't happen.
It was pretty cold for Houston, the low 50's, so I think the kids mainly stuck to their playroom (he built a big addition on the back of his house this year, some kind of playroom I believe). I got ready to leave.
I donned my coat and went outside 10 minutes early, to encounter Chuck already waiting. I think he appreciates my punctuality. Ron waits until someone is outside waiting for him, then he decides to get dressed and put his shoes on. It's very aggravating.
I can be ready early, so can he.
Ron wanted us to go to Dennys and get him some takeout. I figured we might as well eat. It seems rude to take someone to a restaurant and not feed them, in my book.
So I got a Value Slam and he got Biscuits and Gravy. I gave him a hard time about "Eating my babies" (I had/have cats named Biscuit, and Gravy - Gravy is no longer with us). He said they were delicious.
We talked to the waitress. She had been wanting a cat but the "good" (tabby) ones were already taken, and all they had left was the black cat. She kept saying she didn't want a black cat. I told her to try the black cat for a week, and see how she felt.
Of course she fell in love with the cat and showed me videos and still photos. I felt good, knowing I had helped get a black cat into a loving home. I talked to the waitress about getting the cat fixed, and I will give her information on that the next time I see her.
"Don't litter! Spay and Neuter!"
We went home. Ron ate half his omlette. All the visiting cars were gone.
Good. I'd have some peace. They were even done with the cleanup. Normally he (the homeowner) walks around for 45 minutes throwing away empty glass bottles and banging the garbage can lid, which is right next to my bedroom. Not last night.
I even slept pretty well. I believe he turned off the motion detector light.
I woke up around 9 AM, a little over 8 hours of sleep. I got up and took my shower, then did my God Time.
After that I hung up some clothes and organized a little, I nagged Ron into getting ready so we could leave. He wanted to get a burger with Chuck.
Chuck showed up, Ron wasn't ready. Chuck had to wait again. He is very good natured about that.
I got Ron outside and he pulled himself up into the pickup, then I put the wheelchair in the back of the truck. I have learned a trick, if I put it in sideways (front first), as opposed to top-first or bottom-first, it slides in easier.
We went to Carl's Jr. Ron wanted to try the beer cheese burger. I told him he would have to eat that one at home, naked, because it had lots of messy melted cheese. He ordered a couple of burgers and made a meal out of - onion rings.
He makes my inner dietician cringe. I think I'm bad with my diet, but Ron has me beat. It's a miracle he stays so healthy. Really, it is. He hardly even takes any supplements. Where is he getting his folic acid? Vitamin A? Damned if I know.
I ate a Western Bacon Cheeseburger. It didn't agree so I had a shake. I had woken up with a bad headache and had to take Excedrin. That meant I had to take all my pills when I got home. I wanted to have a solid cushion for them. Before medication, I used to go hours without eating in the morning. I would only eat when I got hungry. Not so much these days. "Take with food".
Chuck had chicken strips. They were too hot and burned his mouth, but at least they got up to proper temperature. Better too hot than salmonella.
We had a good meal, loaded up, and came home.
I found a strange, older model, black SUV sitting in front of my house. A black guy wearing a hoodie sat behind the wheel. All the windows were down and the engine was running.
All my surrounding neighbors are Spanish, and do not associate with black people. I have never seen a black person set foot on their properties unless they were selling something. #2 was home, I wondered if he had been to church (he wasn't there when we left to go eat). I figured the strange guy wasn't his guest, either - and there was plenty of room in #2's driveway.
He just sat there (the guy, not #2), watching us.
I didn't know what to do. Should I confront him? Get his license plate? Politely ask what he was doing there? He looked pretty creepy.
And this isn't the first time, plenty of times I have found complete strangers sitting in front of the house like they pay the mortgage. Some times I go out and sit on the front porch, and they just stay there for a while.
What gives them the right to park in front of my house? I'm not on a corner. There is plenty of room across the street. I don't get it. Now I have to wonder if he's just a random jerk who pulled over to text, or a creepy would-be stalker who is trying to learn out routine so he can rob us.
I settled for a hard glare as I got the wheelchair out of the back of the truck. I believe Chuck gave the guy some "eyeball" before he left, too.
In the meantime I was focused on getting Ron into the chair and then into the garage. I didn't care the guy saw the inside of the garage, it's just a mess, nothing valuable unless you need a potty chair or a shower bench. Maybe some yarn and some old litter boxes.
I got Ron in the garage and shut the door. Then I opened the door to the house. Baby Girl got out into the garage, but the door was closed. This is why we go in through the garage, it's an "airlock" that keeps them from getting out.
I caught her and looked out the window. The guy was gone. Good, I think.
I gagged down all my pills with a glass of soy milk. Apparently I am OK with soy products now.
That reminds me, after I clean the litter boxes (all 4 of them), I need to order some more feverfew from Swanson Vitamins.
I took a nap for a couple of hours, until #6 came home. I wondered if the guy waiting in front of my house was really watching their house, mine, or neither.
My first inclination when I saw the guy was to get his plate and call the police. However, I didn't want to seem like a hysterical "crazy" woman.
I asked for some advice on one of my message boards. They agreed it was totally appropriate, in our situation (Ron being so crippled), to call the police and give them the plate number, or simply ask them to come out and check. That's what I needed to know.
I will do that next time. Also, if I come home and find a person in front of my house, I'm not opening anything until we call the police. We can just wait outside until the police show up, the other person leaves, or both. It's very doubtful they would assault us in our own front yard, but they might follow us into the house.
We live in the End Times. I can't take chances, especially with Ron. Hell, I can't take chances.
Someone else pointed out my job may make me a target for bad guys. Great. And I've got my full name out there.
I'm not going to panic. I won't lie, I will be very glad to get home tomorrow and find the house OK. But I'm tired of wondering if some creep wants to take the little we do have.
Off to clean my litter boxes.