The Stalker

Grammy just came into my room to tell me she is convinced someone is following her and that she's not just paranoid. She was walking home and we live across the street from the park and someone walked semi-behind her and when she slowed down, he supposedly slowed down too.

She got to the house and came inside and locked all the doors and the man is now laying out on the grass across the street but is blocked by a tree... "but he can see around it." She acknowledged that she sounds paranoid but she doesn't know what to do and every time she looks out the window, he can see her looking out the window.

I'm pretty sure it's nothing to worry about. She just asked me, "You don't have anyone following you, do you?" I don't. Because I have been in bed watching reality television all day.

Bake and... bake?

So I moved into my new room in Petaluma yesterday. I spent all day yesterday unpacking and organizing my stuff, and then today I've been grocery shopping and running some last minute errands before starting work tomorrow morning.

Today, I came back from Trader Joe's and Grammy was in the kitchen making some sort of stir fry that she had started before I had left. Her tiny, six inch tall bong was sitting on the stove next to her and she turned to me and said "I shouldn't smoke and cook at the same time."

She had thrown handfuls of dried mushrooms into her stir fry and was waiting for them to "soften up." She took a bite from the pan and said "OH... That's not good," then decided to leave it for longer to allow it to get better somehow.