Kroger Invasion

My first time inside Kroger in a few months. I got tired of them only bringing me out one or two packages of meat when I did curbside pickup. Today I was able to get enough meat to last me until the Brower Farms has my order ready. I managed to get in an order to them a couple weeks ago, but because they’re getting so many orders lately, it could be two or three more weeks before my order is ready.

The reason I was doing curbside pickup was I heard there were a bunch of rules customers needed to follow when they shopped in the store, and I thought that would be a pain in the ass. Well, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought it would be.

Most people wore masks, but a few did not. I want to be clear. I wear a mask not because I’m scared, but because I want to do my part in helping to slow the spread of the virus so hospitals don’t become overwhelmed.

I don’t think this virus would do much to me and I hardly care if it does. But I don’t want to be the person who passes it to someone who will not survive it.

A comment I left on a friend’s post on Facebook. I want to share it here too.

I don’t think you’re a bully, I think you’re hardheaded, which isn’t necessarily a bad quality. There are times when I think you are a little mean, but there are many more times when you’re as sweet as can be.

You kicked me once when I did something stupid at a rally MSD was having in 93 and I deserved it. If I had known better at the time, I would’ve kicked me too. Because what I did made us all look bad. I think you were probably the only person at MSD who would have whupped my ass, but your agression seemed reasonable to me.

From the beginning, my impression of you was that you are someone I should not fuck with. The way you carried yourself suggested you were strong-willed and you didn’t take shit from anyone. That impression still stands, though I have not seen you in person in twenty years.

I have heard about the kids from the all-deaf families being assholes to the kids from the non-deaf families. I think it was C. C. Winkler who first warned me about this. But no one really fucked with me at MSD, which is interesting, because I wasn’t good at ASL.

Maybe I was scary to them. Or maybe what kids at MSD felt was bullying didn’t really have an effect on me, because I came out of Zemmer Junior High School and Lapeer West High School where I got shit on a lot. MSD was a relief from all that.

Come to think of it, though I got a lot of shit at Zemmer and West, no one ever really brought a serious fight to me in my whole life. Instead they liked to provoke me and usually they succeeded. And I would get in trouble for hitting them.

Kids called me stuff. “Retard” and “Faggot” were probably the most hurtful things they called me. In art class in 8th grade, there was a group who would drool on my table right next to my arm, and then they would pull my arm into the slobber. I would get up and punch them. Then the principal is yelling at me. Kids spit on me on the bus.. All kinds of shit. Every time I stood up to them, I got in trouble.

At the same time I was getting shit on, there were kids who I was an asshole to, at every school I’d ever been to, including MSD. I was somewhat of a bully too, and sometimes I think I still am. I think the key is recognizing when you’re being an asshole and admitting to it, and trying not to be one.

Hank

Hey everyone, this is Hank, my sister’s dog. Not only is Hank one of the 101 Dalmatians, Hank is deaf. Completely. He does not respond to sound at all.

Today was my first meeting with Hank. My sister wants him to get familiar with me and my house because she’s going to leave him with me while she goes on vacation.

Hank has a lot of energy and he seems to like my back yard. He’s a bit wild, but nothing I can’t handle. I like him.

So, this is what my house looks like from the neighbor’s yard.

Yesterday evening, when my mom brought me home., she wanted to look at a sign that had been on the empty house next to mine. So, we walked over there to look. I guess the sign is gone now.

While we were over there, the neighbor from across the road called out to us. My mom went over there to talk and I soon followed. The neighbor’s name is Lori. I met her a few years ago when she brought me over a homemade roast beef sandwich on a holiday that I was stuck at home on. I can’t remember if it was the 4th of July or Memorial Day. We talked briefly that day, but had not talked again until yesterday.

Turns out, Lori values beer as much as I do. She asked me to sit and have a beer. My mom left and Lori gave me a 25oz can of beer. And we sat and talked for a while, well, the best we could, anyway. I couldn’t hear hardly anything that was said to me. She did do a bit of writing in a notebook and I responded to that. But it made for pretty slow conversation.

I’m really not good at socializing and today I’m kicking myself over fact that I couldn’t hear her and how awkward I was. I also forgot to thank her for the beer, and that’s pretty damn rude in my book. But I have been wanting to get to know the neighbors and I hope this leads to more interactions. Lori seems to know the other neighbors quite well. I see them talking sometimes.

Don’t Be A Criminal?

It really upsets me when the topic is Police Brutality and someone says “Don’t be a criminal and you won’t be hurt by police.”

That is so not true. Police hurt a lot of people who are not criminals. There are many stories to be found.

I have had experiences with the police that still haunt me. I used to walk to the store all the time. I rarely do anymore, and the very few times that I do, I’m thinking every step of the way that a cop is going to pull up and harass me about whether my disabilities are real or if I’m just on drugs and giving him an attitude.

And even so, I still have faith in the system and I continue to believe that most cops handle situations properly. But there are still far too many times when cops do not handle the situation properly. It’s those times that I’m talking about.

Patio 2

Okay, done for today. We got the frame down. I gave a blood sacrifice to the construction gods when I smashed my finger hammering a stake into the ground. A blood sacrifice is necessary for a healthy patio.

I guess the next step is to get sand in there..

Although I was previously looking to hire someone to do the patio, I don’t think I would appreciate the patio as much if someone else did it for me. I wanted to do the work myself, I just needed to work with someone who knows how to do it right. I’m glad my dad is able to work with me on it.

Patio 1

My dad and I started working on the patio today. We just called it a day a little while ago.

I’m cooking ribs. After I get my patio back to its old size, I plan on getting a serious grill.