When I was 69: meaningful connections

Friday, August 21, 2026

The Rogers Neighborhood here

With my being Ms Rogers, I am claiming the area I live in as my neighborhood.

Potted flowers at the entrance to the apartment building.

I sat outside with neighbors talking before the noon sun hit the west side of the building the other day. Then everyone scoots indoors.

Sitting here by the entrance.

I was issued a key fob to let me through the locked door, and during the day, the landlady can let in deliveries in who buzz her office. I also got a key fob for my son and his wife to use, otherwise I'd have to go down to the lobby to let them in.

And looking the other way I see the studio apartment building across the parking lot. The cute little covered sitting area at the end of the cars is the smoking area. I asked a neighbor if they are allowed to smoke pot, but she thought not. I've not lived in a state where it's legal before, so don't know the rules.

And Wednesday I found out my next-door neighbor's apartment is being emptied out by the management...she must have died fairly recently because my son said someone was knocking loudly on her door when we were moving all my stuff in just 3 weeks ago last Monday, (July 27th). (Come to think of it, it could have been Meals on Wheels, because they often will require a response.)

I would imagine if she had had any relatives they would have been clearing out the apartment. But the manager and maintenance man were carting boxes and lots of grocery carts full of her stuff downstairs, putting a lot of things like shoes, audio tapes, kitchen wares on the "free table" in the lobby. The residents were like vultures actually...very friendly but a bit unpleasant to be around.

So I soon won't be the newest tenant.

Of course I am sorry I never to meet my former next-door-neighbor. It is sad to think how many people in senior living places like this might die. (How did I get into this apartment anyway?) It brings home to me the situation of a blogger who I didn't even know, who is suddenly in Hospice care...and so many bloggers are writing comments to Joanne and her daughter. I am touched by all the outpouring of care from many of the bloggers I know.

Which reminds me that one of the neighbors mentioned that Monday someone's things were all put out by the curb as they had been evicted. Glad I missed that episode of "grab what you want."

Recycling belongings makes sense though.

I'll pass. I thought of asking the manager if there was a dresser that might be purchased, but decided I'd go through thrift stores to obtain one, and actually am leaning toward getting something new. I'm delighting in not having too much that is left from the "people before me." The apartment itself has a sense that someone cared for some areas more than others. I could show you the awful corroded kitchen sink, where someone used some powerful acid that left the stainless steel completely stained.

The maintenance man said he'd tried everything to scrub it clean. I just purchased a dish pan...not going to put my dishes on that surface! Of course I've tried everything I have except steel wool by now.

There are scrubby bushes by the parking lot, and a few trees around as well. Hogback Ridge and Heron's Peak are huge grey hunks of rock to look at. I imagine they'll be dramatic in snow.