Last week, a con artist talked his way into my mom's house claiming to be with the water company. I'm sharing this cautionary tale of being scammed over at Working Stiffs today.
OMG! I'm soooo glad your mom's ok. That's creepy as hell. Because they had to have been doing a little observation to choose her house over yours or the neighbors, right? And what do you do to deter them now? Makes me mad *and* worried.
Yes, it was troublesome that they didn't go to the neighbor where the guy works from home all day. Nor did he come here where he would have encountered psycho crazed mystery writer chick. Instead, he showed up where the little old lady lives.
Mom has orders to keep her doors locked and do NOT open it unless she knows who it is on her porch. If a stranger comes to her door now, she has orders to call 911 and tell the police there's someone suspicious outside. This comes from the police chief himself. He knows the situation and is keeping an eye out for her, too.
It’s been a while since I wrote anything about my mom. If you follow me on Facebook, you’ve probably noticed a number of posts recently about long nights in the ER with her. I appreciate the kind concerns and prayers from friends and family. But while I know they’re well intended, the “hope she gets well soon” sentiments cut like a finely honed blade. Mom isn’t going to get well. She has good days and bad. More and more of the latter. Today’s “good days” are about the same as the bad ones a couple months ago. She has vascular dementia. In addition to her mental slippage, her legs have grown weak and uncooperative, adding to her pre-existing balance issues. We plead with her to call for assistance to get out of bed. Unfortunately, she can’t remember that she’s had numerable falls lately, so she continues to try to get up and around on her own, resulting in more falls. And in more trips to the ER. She has dislocated her right hip twice now. She’s hit her head more times
For days, the weathermen had been forecasting “THE FLOOD.” With melting snow pack combined with heavy rains, they were suggesting everyone pack up the women and children and move to high ground. Of course, our writers’ retreat was scheduled to be held at Paddler’s Lane , on the scenic banks of the Youghiogheny River in Confluence. “Confluence.” As in the point where the Yough (pronounced “Yawk”) is joined by the Casselman River and the Laurel Hills Creek. As in the place I spend a large portion of my summer at our camp. I scoffed at the panic mongers. Flood? Heck, it floods every spring. I ain’t afraid of no stinking flood. So off I went. Loaded up the car Friday morning under sunny skies and headed east, with joy in my heart. A whole weekend with my Sisters in Crime in a gorgeous house with lots of food. And writing. Oh, yeah. Lots of writing and—better yet—workshops with Ramona Long . First stop: Panera Bread in Uniontown where I met Sandy Stephen, Susan “ West of Mars ” Gottfried, a
I've been hearing over and over lately that I need to get new headshots done. People who only know me from my online presence complain when they meet me that I don't look anything like my picture. Hmmm. Is that good or bad? I'm still not sure. However, the fact that I now wear my hair a lot longer than I used to is a fact I can't deny. The problem with new photos is...well, I'm older than I was when I had those last ones done. If I could get away with posting a picture of me when I was 25, I'd do it in a heartbeat. Seriously, inside my head, that's still what I look like. Outside? Not so much. But I caved in this weekend. After shooting over 60 frames, I came up with four that I like. So I'm posting them here and asking for a vote. Which ONE photo should be my new "face" for my online persona? Choice #1 Choice #2 Choice #3 Choice #4 Leave a comment with your favorite. Okay, I get to make the final decision, so this
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Because they had to have been doing a little observation to choose her house over yours or the neighbors, right? And what do you do to deter them now?
Makes me mad *and* worried.
Mom has orders to keep her doors locked and do NOT open it unless she knows who it is on her porch. If a stranger comes to her door now, she has orders to call 911 and tell the police there's someone suspicious outside. This comes from the police chief himself. He knows the situation and is keeping an eye out for her, too.
Mad? Worried? Oh, yeah.