Tag Archives: Creek

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room… Entry #9

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(Disclaimer: This blog is in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion.  Places, names and faces have been changed to protect the cantankerous, mean spirited, nosey, bitchy and innocent.)

 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…    

 

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Yesterday I gave all of you the run-down of my days surrounding Thanksgiving.  Of my good friend Mr. Roy’s death, I looked forward to picking pumpkins and adding fresh cut trees before Christmas, now that will never happen; life is too short.  Who will tease me now; make me laugh at the Manor tenants and at myself? 

He was right about one thing, the old biddies were waiting for me, and their questions met with resistance.  I never shared my activities with family to anyone in Hell Town accept Mr. Roy.  I headed for Clinton, dog in cage, I needed to work out until I dropped; I took a back road to avoid passing the pumpkin patch and tree farm!

Returning to the Manor I drove down Main Street, Christmas’ was in full bloom with ancient faded wreaths, garland and lights.  A Santa and his reindeers hovered high above one of the bridges swinging in the cold wind.  I don’t think the town has purchased new decorations since electricity came to town.

The Princess Theater marquee garlanded in red and blue read “Happy Holidays”, Edna’s Beauty Shop had a tree in the window with flashing lights, Wilson’s Drug and Hardware had a tree lot at the side of the building.  I could hear Mr. Roy saying, “Coward must have been afraid of competition, had to wait ‘til I died to have a tree lot”.  He would have been right.

Twilight had set in, a sliver of gold sparkled on the western skyline as I took my dog out for a walk.  Deciding to go out the front door next to the gathering room was only to tease the “big mouth ladies and closed mouth men”, by now the news had spread…Ira Mae has shut down.  Let them talk about someone else today.

In the front of the Manor blue lights and green garland swayed back and forth, several of the apartments had decorated trees in their windows and there spread across the front lawn was several wreaths with big red bows.  I thought I would pee my pants…they were the type you buy to go on graves at a cemetery, wreaths on stands!  I took a picture, as no one would believe that a senior housing manager would be so dense to purchase cemetery wreaths that you put in the ground instead of wreaths to hang on the building.

When I returned to the apartment building, I called my son…

“Hello” he said.

“Hey son, do you have plywood to cut me out several grave markers, put them on stakes so I can paint “RIP” on them, the yard looks like a cemetery”, we could not stop laughing as I had sent him the picture right before I called.  This is no joke…is the manager sending a message to the tenants of “God’s Waiting Room”?

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

 

©2012.crawfishcreekmanor. (All Rights Reserved).

 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room… Entry #6

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Disclaimer: This blog is in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion.  Places, names and faces have been changed to protect the cantankerous, mean spirited, nosey, bitchy and innocent.

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

 

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Last entry I left all of you with my bike ride, the active tri-county redhead Ms Laura, and my wonderful friend and confidant Mr. Roy, who still has an eye for the women and makes the worst coffee since the discovery of the coffee bean.

I have never spent such a lovely, quiet and peaceful morning, Mr. Roy and I never had a lapse in conversation.  He told me about the love of his life whom he had lost after fifty years of marriage, and I for the first time talked about my failed forty-year marriage.  We walked the pumpkin patch to retrieve a perfect pumpkin, he promised to make me a pie, I hate to cook and he loved playing chef.  By noon, we had roamed among the trees, and we did pick the one that Mr. Roy said was beckoning us to take it for a Christmas tree.  Neither of us had celebrated any holidays for many years.

In the twilight of the evening and with the help of some neighboring farmers the house inside and out glowed with lights and decorations, a special glow!  Everyone left, I smiled at the wonder of spending an entire day filled with happiness.  Mr. Roy loaded my bike into the back of the old Ford truck, and we pulled out of the driveway.  I looked back as the radiance of the house faded and then gone as we turned onto the highway; I could not stop the silent tears that ran down my face.

Mr. Roy said; don’t be sad it will all be there tomorrow when you come back.  I could do no more than look at him saying…

“Come back”!

“Well of course, and early, I have a Thanksgiving dinner to make for my new friend”.

When we turned into the driveway of Crawfish Creek Manor, I shook my head in amazement.  I had rode through Hell Town without even noticing it, and now the reality of walking through the front door of the Manor was going to bring to a close what had been an exceptional day.

Without giving a second thought, I said…

“Mr. Roy, you like Jack Daniels”?

“Girl, how could I have been so lucky today, of course”.  His smile broadened and we walked into the Manor.

The “Gathering Room” packed with old men staring at a sea of blue waves and curls; it sounded much like a chicken farm.  So many mouths were moving at the same time the only sound I could hear…

“Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck”!

When Mr. Roy and I walked past them a silence fell over the room, I heard behind me, the Warden whisper to Mouth, “Well I never”!  I turned to face her…

“And, you probably never will”. 

That my friends was my first Thanksgiving at Crawfish Creek, I hope everyone has a wonderful Thanksgiving this year and if you’re in Clinton be sure to stop and pick up your Christmas tree from Mr. Roy’s tree lot.

     

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

 

©2012.crawfishcreekmanor.(All Rights Reserved).

 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room… Entry #4

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Disclaimer: This blog in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion. 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Yesterday I left all of you with my return to the new apartment and confronted by the “Warden” and her sidekick “Mouth”.  They were concerned as to my stability and announced (as if I could not hear them), “We ain’t gonna like her”.

I have found that the elderly (most of them) do not have enough to do on a day-to-day basis.  Hard of hearing, do not be fooled by that, they can hear a fly fart one-hundred yards after it has buzzed by them.  Every time I opened my door to take out boxes I had unpacked, no less than ten heads all sporting blue hair popped out to observe me as I walk down the hallway.

Don’t get me wrong, I have white hair…I just don’t think having it spiked went over too well, and I am certain that bare foot and braless did not get me any points, and yes, at my age…and no, “the girls” were not bouncing off my knees.  When God called out who wants “Big Breast”, I thought he said, “Big Test” and I ran the other way!

With the unpacking done, I decided to go for a bike ride.  There I was on the elevator with bike, a man and woman got on with me before the door could close.  The man looked at me and said, “Do you go to church”?  I smiled and said “No”; he got louder, “Don’t you believe in God”?  I smiled and said “Yes”, I knew what was coming next…”People who believe in God go to church”!  His wife said, “You’re going to hell”!  I smiled and said, “Yes mam, I may be going there, and you and your husband don’t forget to say hi when you see me, ya hear”!  I still don’t know their name; I call them the “Church People”!

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

 

#4©2012.crawfishcreekmanor.(All Rights Reserved).

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…Entry #3

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Disclaimer: This blog in no way meant to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion. 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

Yesterday I left all of you with the “do’s and don’ts” of moving into senior housing, a small taste of the Manor; Hell-Town, USA and its inhabitants, the people from “hell”.  Let me say, that I do not believe all senior housing is as the Manor; not all people in the Manor or town are like those that I have encountered.  However, here those, whom appear to be friendly, turn within time.   

Moving into the Manor was not the ordinary situation for me; I had the best apartment in the building.  I am an artist and writer and one of my rooms has all windows and wonderful light.

The bathroom was shower only, which I could contend with accept that pull-down thing you could sit on if you cannot stand; it became the place I bathed my dog, Poop Boy. 

My introduction to the “tenants” was during move-in; they walked, shuffled, or wheeled up and down the hall trying to get a glimpse of the new person.  My children moved me in, lifelong slapstick comedians.  Their first open comments were about the heat inside being 80 degrees, and it continued from there; they were polite when having to ease around the “bodies” but could not help saying, “Mom, you sure this is not a nursing home”?

I left immediately after moving in, two-weeks of dog sitting while one of my sons and his wife were in Ireland.  Upon walking out, the gathering room was full of blue haired old battle-axes; they migrated to the hallway of my floor where there is a lounge area by the elevator.  Any one that tells you old people cannot see, do not believe them.  They were like vultures waiting for the death of a road kill, peering with their tiny beady eyes.  I smiled and kept moving.

Two-weeks later I returned, I kept thinking there had to be a buzzer somewhere on me, to this day, every time I am outside my apartment someone is waiting with questions.

The “Warden” as I have named her, and sidekick “Mouth”, met me outside the elevator.  Not a hello, kiss my ass, go to hell, nothing…”Ain’t you the woman who moved in two weeks ago and left”, hollered the Warden.  The Mouth replied, “Most people think you are a crazy woman, move in and leaving like that”!  I looked at them respectfully and smiled as I walked away. 

The Warden bellowed out, “Where you been, normal people don’t move in and leave”.  I looked at her and replied, “I guess I am not normal”.  As the door closed, Mouth said, “We ain’t gonna like her”.

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing… until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself… breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

©2012.crawfishcreek.allrightsreserved.

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room – Entry #2

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Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinion. 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s Waiting Room…

Hello Bloggers and Followers,

If you are looking for senior housing here are some “do’s and don’ts”, and this may be the most important information you will ever read. 

Do not – be fooled if the housing is new with only a few tenants. Remember, those that can walk are in a gathering area checking you out; they were there first… this is an important thing never to forget, if you move in; you will be the subject of conversation for many months as you are the only “life” they have seen since they arrived at the Manor. 

Do not – believe everything a manager of the property tells you, they are trying to fill the place up!

Do not – check out a town when it is Christmas and snowing, everything looks magnificent shrouded in its holiday finest and covered with snow. 

Do – visit several times before signing a lease.  Had I done so, I would have found out that the old woman who guards the door and questions everyone who enters was truly at one point “a warden”!

Do – read the lease carefully, the administrator/manager makes the rules as she goes about her day, different rules, different rents, her favorite saying is “This is all a secret now, don’t tell the others, because I am treating you special”.  Then they all gather and discuss how special they are among themselves.

Those are the main do’s and don’ts, life is complicated here at Crawfish Creek Manor…

Hometown, small town, USA, beware it is Hell-Town, USA; Over 55 housing, (you think), friendly (until you move in), then you find that you are living in God’s Waiting Room…it is a nursing home without nursing staff and you have Crawfish Creek on one side and the Pearly Gates on the other!

Well, dear bloggers and followers, I must close the shutters on today’s. Writing until tomorrow, remember a shot of “Jack” a day will keep the doctor away, and if you are a senior citizen just keep telling yourself…breathe damn’it.

 

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

©2012.crawfishcreek.allrightsreserved.

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s waiting room…Entry #1

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Disclaimer: This blog is not intended to offend anyone, it is just reality as I, Ira Mae Busybody perceives life, and my personal opinions. 

Welcome to Crawfish Creek Manor, God’s waiting room…

The idea of this blog has been two-years in the making, not because I am old, but to gather the material, make a commitment to the blogs daily entry and try to perfect my imperfections.    

Crawfish Creek Manor is located is a small town, one street with a creek running though it, Crawfish Creek…there are no crawfish in the creek!  The town begins with the Manor, a home for senior citizens, the creek winds through town.  On either side of Main Street and two wood bridges are the Princess Theater (owned by Mayor Wilson), open every Saturday; Andy’s barbershop (the mayor’s son), the Crawfish Café (the mayors granddaughter Emma), Edna’s Beauty shop (Andy’s wife), Wilson’s Drug and Hardware store (guess who), Morry’s Service Station (the mayor’s grandson), and a sign “YOU ARE NOW LEAVING CRAWFISH CREEK”.

By now you are wondering, shouldn’t the town be Wilson Creek?  Well, no, because Mr. Wilson’s great-great-granddaddy settled the town and he thought it was a fine name for a creek and town.  It is farm country there are no citizens accept the Wilson’s their homes are on the edge of Crawfish Creek.

Crawfish Creek Manor’s tenants come from a four county area; a palatial four-column porch that would lead you to believe it had been picked up out of the Deep South and placed there beside the creek.  There are twenty tenants male and female, a gathering room and a small office where Mr. Wilson’s daughter Rosemary pretended to be the administrator/manager.

Me, well I moved from the city…an active elderly female of seventy-years-young.  It looked peaceful, away from the hustle-bustle of metro living, a place where seniors lived and enjoyed their waning years, or so it advertised.

However, living in Crawfish Creek Manor is one of the reasons for this blog…     

Come join me daily and be a part of my life at Crawfish Creek Manor.

Ira Mae Busybody

Crawfish Creek Manor

 

©2012.crawfishcreek.allrightsreserved.