After yesterday’s blog, I think I am going to scratch future blog ideas such as “Why I buy baby wet wipes in bulk” off of my list. For that matter, I should probably wipe “How to time your daily poop” off of the list as well. Even though I considered knowledge regarding nose wings an essential ingredient to a successful existence, I should leave those topics up to the real experts from the retirement home.
Speaking of home, I am sure everyone wants an update on the saga with my downstairs neighbor, Terese the Terrible. She is, after all, the reason I have to time my daily poop. One mustn’t flush the toilet if one lives in the condo above TtT lest she inflict her terrible wrath on you. Her voice is enough to release the Kraken from your cracken.
I can’t believe I said that. I promise that I am completely sober.
Since I wrote my March 27 blog, chronicling our encounter at the condo board’s March meeting, TtT has vanished. When I say vanished, I mean that there has been no evidence that she is living in her condo. I am not sure when I first noticed that TtT was gone, but it must have been around the second week of April. The occasional overnight stays from her husband stopped and the space under my feet was quiet. Usually, he comes home to her after work, parks his old Jeep out front in the visitor’s spot. The sound and smells of dinner time conversation waft up from below. Some time in the evening he leaves, only staying with her over night a few nights a week. I first noticed she was gone when her husband’s Jeep no longer was parked out front in the evenings and weekends, nor was it there when I left for work in the mornings.
For two months, I have lived in peace, free from worry, free from hassle.
Part of the mystery was solved when I spoke to a woman who lives in the building next to me. The woman loves to garden, the courtyard entrance to her condo building magnificently maintained with various plantings. The space behind her building is an impressive japanese garden. She is outside frequently, tending to the plants around her building.
When I spoke to her, I quickly discovered that she knows all the gossip. That makes sense. She is always outside and people stop to talk to her. Word from her is that TtT is indeed from Poland and goes back there to visit from time to time. I knew that. What I didn’t know is that TtT is recently retired. Is it possible that my favorite downstairs neighbor was on extended holiday in her homeland? Gardener lady suspected that. She also told me that TtT has feuded with everyone that has lived in my condo unit. At times, she has created a real furor and my building is known for its discontent. Gardener lady also passed on another rumor that I have heard, that TtT’s husband has a house in a neighboring town and refuses to live with her full time. That was a rumor she passed on with obvious disgust. She told me that I should not feel bad. No one in our community respects TtT.
I had approached Gardener Lady to ask her if it was OK to hang window boxes on the rails of my deck. I was contemplating buying wrought iron window boxes lined with cocoa fiber. She assured me that it is OK, complimented my choice of the cocoa fiber. Before I left her, she hustled into her garage, emerged with three single pot wire plant hangers. I thanked her (they are currently holding some cool geraniums) as I left.
It’s a good thing that TtT has not been home. I now have four 36″ wrought iron window boxes hanging from the rails at the front of my deck, as well as six large pots of flowers lining the front and a four tiered plant stand in the corner. Since TtT is not home, I have not bothered to place trays under the window boxes when I water them, so the water drips down below when I water the flowers. Not that it would matter — TtT had her husband install a plastic tarp under my deck shortly after I moved in. It was really lovely listening to her badger him as he did the installation. To justify putting the plastic tarp up, she told property management that my grill was dripping grease on her patio (a grill that I did not have).
I can’t help but muse that maybe her husband finally cracked and chopped her into little Polish bits. Could he slowly be feeding Terese sausage bits to the cat? Maybe the last escapade we had in March sent her over the edge and she is cocooned in her bedroom, coiled in the fetal position and drooling. Or maybe just maybe retirement means that she has moved back to Poland permanently.
A week ago Friday, TtT’s husband’s Jeep started showing up again. However, no TtT. For the last few days, he has spent the night there. The only evidence of him being there is his vehicle and an occasional slamming of windows and their patio door (he makes a big production of it, like he is upset about something). I have been waiting to hear evidence of TtT, but so far there has been none. She is not there. So why is her husband there?
That is driving me crazier.
TtT also has a friend who lives across the street, a thin 60ish woman with a short blonde haircut who is frequently outside walking a little yappy yorkie. I suspect she has been assigned to keep an eye on me. I know that she checks TtT’s condo now and then. Last night, she walked her dog around and in front of my garage as I was working on the cruiser bicycle my daughter gave to me after she graduated from college. I caught the woman looking at me of the side of her eyes, said a hello and received a grunt in return. Her yorkie yapped at me as she scurried away. This morning, as I left for work, I heard her talking excitedly in TtT’s condo to Terese, I suspect it was via Skype as I could also hear Terese’s voice through a speaker.
Yes, I was listening through her front door. What does that make me? I could hear her tell TtT that Monday night I had a late night visitor that I cooked for out on my deck, talking and listening to the Cubs game, then washed my dishes after they left. It’s true. My son came over around 9 PM Monday and I grilled bbq chicken for him.
I am hoping that all the activity below does not mean she is about to return. I am hoping it dies down again.
By the way, my daughter’s bike is awesome. It’s a Giant Simple 7, a cruiser with wrap around handlebars and large white wall tires. She doesn’t want the bike any more. I have been getting it back in shape and plan on keeping it. I put new white walls on it last night and replaced the brake cables/housings. The picture here was taken a few years ago, when I was getting it ready for my daughter to take it to college.
Will the saga continue? Will the shrieking Jedi return?