It's Heeeeere, But Not as Advertised

The Reuben has arrived! In fact, the Reuben has been consumed! Val is stuffed to the gills with Reuben and his accoutrements. I'd say this meal was a disappointment, but I enjoyed it so much that I cannot! Let's just let the record show that the meal I was delivered by Hick was not the meal that was listed on the monthly menu for the Senior Center.

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Reuben Sandwich

Slaw

Pecan Pie Brownie

You'd think, that since they used that Broccoli Cheddar Soup as the headliner, that I would at least get Broccoli Cheddar Soup. No siree, Bob! I got soup, but it was more like Vegetable Beef.

At least it was more than orange liquid this time. Even chunkier than it looks here, because along with those vegetables and shell noodles and a couple cubes of beef, the soup was full of kidney beans! That's a new combination to me, but it was actually pretty tasty.

The star of the show did not disappoint:

There's that wonderful marble rye bread. It seemed like more meat than usual, and the cheese, kraut, and dressing were just right. Sadly, there was no SLAW! You know how Val likes her slaw. I couldn't tell what that side was supposed to be. It kind of looked like chicken salad. But no, Hick, who had already eaten a full lunch of the same foods, said it was potato salad. "They call it Loaded Baked Potato Salad. It has bacon in it." Well. It DID taste like a baked potato, but I didn't notice any bacon. The other "side" is a pile of oyster crackers to go with the soup.

I'm not a big fan of dessert, but this one tempted me:

It's a brownie all right. Whether it's a Pecan Pie Brownie remains to be seen. Hick ate the other one. I said he could have this one, too, as long as I get that edge part cut off. I like the edge!

Hick didn't eat his meal, since he was still full from lunch. But not too full for the brownie, heh, heh. I took Hick's soup, because he really doesn't like liquid in his soup.

Now there's only a month to wait until the next Reuben day, and find out what excuse Hick might have for not bringing one home for me, and devise a scheme to thwart his devious plan.

The Reuben Solution

Monday was Reuben Day, you know! The day this month when Reuben Sandwiches were on the menu for the Senior Center. Hick had plans to drive to Illinois to get a trash dumpster for the senior apartments, and said he probably wouldn't be back in time to get MY REUBEN.

Sunday evening, I asked Hick why they couldn't save a Reuben in the refrigerator for him, until he got back. It's not like they don't know where to find him, to collect the $5 for the meal. Besides, Hick is their pet! They always give him special treatment.

"Oh. [Person in charge whom Hick has done paid house renovations for in the past] says she'll put them in the refrigerator, and I can get them the next day. I'll get one for me, too."

"That's good! I wasn't planning to eat it until Tuesday anyway. I still have Chinese left from Friday, and you're going to the auction anyway, so you'll have auction food Monday night."

See? I wondered why they couldn't save a Reuben for Hick. I guess he never asked before, so apparently he DID ask this time. I'm sure he did it out of the kindness of his heart, and his abiding love for me, rather than as a result of my constant nagging reminding...

Monday morning around 10:30, Hick called. I was worried, because he was supposed to be in Illinois, reveling in his newfound dumpster ownership, not randomly calling me.

"Val? They're not serving Reubens today! They changed it to Tuesday. So you won't have a sandwich tonight."

"That's fine. I didn't expect a Reuben tonight anyway. I'm eating Chinese. So it will be just like you said before. You'll bring it home Tuesday night, and we can have Reubens for supper."

"Okay. I just wanted you to know."

I must have given Hick PTSD about that Reuben! Now if I could only do that with T-Hoe's long-needed oil change...

Evolving Plans for the Cheap House

We still don't have a closing date for the really Cheap House that is in foreclosure. Hick has been thinking about what he's going to do, once we actually complete the formalities and take possession.

"I was thinkin' about that house, and I might just get it all cleaned out and patched up, then sell it as a flip."

"At the price we're getting it, I would agree with that. Then we could use the profit to get another flip that doesn't need as much work."

"Yeah. It looks good from the outside. But I'd tear off the back porch they cobbled on."

"Of course you'll fix the hole in the floor?"

"Yeah. And tear out all the drywall. Basically take it down to the studs. So it's all ready for somebody else to take over and do what they want. Like I did with Pony House."

"That sounds good to me. We'll have to ask Pony about it. But you know how long we've been looking, and there's hardly been ANY reasonable flip houses all year long. Even Realtor said she doesn't know what's going on. It's like somebody is hoarding all the flip houses."

"This one is in a good neighborhood, so it should sell if somebody wants a flip."

"I was looking yesterday, and saw THREE flip houses in a decent price range for what they are. One doesn't show any inside pictures, so it's probably a hoarder house that's trashed. The other is in a town that's hard to re-sell. But the third one looks decent. Somebody has started re-doing a couple rooms. You should look at them. It will give you an idea what we might ask for Cheap House once you tear it out. I think we could double our money on it, since we won't be spending much."

The Pony is on board with this plan. Now all we need to do it get a date to sign the papers, and fork over our money. Oh. And Hick needs to get off his less-than-$300 a week job, and finish Bargain House.

There Oughta Be a Law! Oh, Wait...

I stopped by the Backroad's Casey's on Friday afternoon, for my scratchers. I won $25 after spending $10. But that great windfall, heh, heh, is not the point of this tale.

There was a white pickup truck parked squarely in the handicap space. The other spaces in front of the store were full. So I had to park at the farthest end, next to that white pickup, by the dumpster. Of course there was no handicap plate, nor placard, on that white pickup truck.

As I was sliding down from the driver's seat, I saw a city police car pull onto the Casey's lot. He was coming straight towards me, facing the front of the store.

"OOH! Good! He'll see me hobbling out, with my placard dangling from the mirror, and this unmarked white pickup truck PARKED ILLEGALLY IN MY RIGHTFUL HANDICAP SPACE!" That's the thought that went through my mind. Exactly. With quotes and proper grammar, of course. Once a VALedictorian, always a VALedictorian!

The police car turned left and drove across the front of the store, exiting on the side street.

WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN???

What is the point of having laws if nobody enforces them! It's not like that police car roared into Casey's, lights flashing and siren wailing. It was just a casual drive. Perhaps a cut-through to avoid traffic. Still, there was clearly a vehicle in the lone handicap parking space, unmarked with legal permittage, right in front of the sign proclaiming: $50 to $300 Fine.

No wonder the scofflaws continue to take up the handicap parking spaces. There's NO PENALTY because the police ignore it. 

And what's with that law enforcement officer, anyway? Isn't he sworn to protect and to serve? To protect Val's rightful handicap parking space from usurpers, and serve her bloated sense of entitledness? 

The Popular Hick Gets Another Nighttime Phone Call

We were in the middle of watching Survivor on Wednesday night when Hick's phone rang. I had to turn down the TV volume so he could hear his phone. Which meant that I could also hear his phone conversation, since Hick needs a traveling Garrett-Morris-style interpreter for the hard-of-hearing.

It was a woman from the senior apartments, asking permission to light a fire. Just four logs. She was planning to have three friends come over. I guess they would each have their own log, heh, heh! The whole plan sounded sketchy to me. Hick assured her it would be fine, but he needed to bring a metal saw to cut the chain, and he would do it tomorrow. Obviously, there were some details to which I was not privy.

"What in the world? Does she have a fireplace?"

"No. She wants to light a fire out back, in the fire pit. They want to roast some marshmallows. I said it's fine, but I have to cut a chain."

"Why is there a chain on a fire pit?"

"The old guy who died, who was there before me, had his grill chained to the fire pit so nobody would steal it."

"How can you chain something to a fire pit? Isn't it just a circle of bricks? What does the chain hook on?"

"It's an old-timey fire pit, Val. It's that shape."

"You have told me nothing! WHAT shape? Where does the chain go?"

"It's square. With a chimney up the back."

"Still not understanding the chain thing."

"Through the metal!"

"You mean it has a grill? A grill chained to a grill?"

"Like at a campground. There's metal to lay the meat on."

"Oh. So it's like, a metal rack cemented into the sides of the thing you called a fire pit, that is actually a grill? With another grill chained to it?"

"Yes. You cain't understand nothin'!"

Anyhoo... on Thursday afternoon, Hick reported that he had freed the fire pit from the grill by using a jigsaw.

"You used a SAW? How thick was that chain??? At school, the janitors just used a bolt cutter to clip through the loops of a padlock. Surely the chain wasn't thicker than a padlock."

"No. But I don't have bolt cutters. I DO have a jigsaw. Now they can roast their marshmallows."

I imagine those ladies are going to make a night of it on Saturday, watching a fireworks display at the top of Main Street. There's a big fundraiser going on all day Saturday, with the street blocked, and vendors, and a cruise with old cars, culminating in fireworks. You'd think Hick would know about that, and put 2 and 2 together, since he inserts himself into everything SENIOR in the town.

Now Hick is going to want bolt cutters. I'm pretty sure. I don't know what's going to happen to the old man's grill, now that it's been unchained.

O Reuben, My Reuben

Hey, it's October. You know what THAT means! Time for another monthly menu for the Senior Center lunches, to see when my precious Reuben Sandwich will be served. Hick actually brought home a menu on Wednesday, October 1st. This one starts on Monday, October 6th, because that's where the last menu left off. 

Hick was outside mowing when I looked over the menu. I was eager to see my Reuben day, since I had "missed" the last one. Surely this time it wouldn't be on a Friday, giving Hick an excuse to not bring me a Reuben. I looked. And looked. 

THERE WAS NO REUBEN SANDWICH ON THE MENU!!!

How could this be? There's always a Reuben! I saw a couple new items, like Pork Roast and Cabbage. Chili and Grilled Cheese. Chicken Pot Pie. Maybe they had switched over to a winter menu. Why? A Reuben Sandwich can be eaten during the winter! It's hearty and filling. What if I had already eaten my last Reuben, and didn't even appreciate the significance?

When Hick came in, I bemoaned the loss of my Reuben.

"I looked at your new menu, and there's NO REUBEN! You should really feel bad about not getting me one last time. Now I have to wait a whole other month to see if it comes back."

"There's a Reuben."

"No. I looked at every day."

"It's on Monday."

"WHAT?"

I grabbed the menu and read the whole thing for Monday:

Broccoli Cheddar Soup

Reuben Sandwich

Slaw

Pecan Pie Brownies

MY REUBEN WAS BACK!!!

Who in the Not-Heaven puts Reuben under soup? That's like putting Baby in a corner! Not cool! I was too relieved to be reunited with my Reuben to hold a grudge against the menu-maker. But then the situation took a dark turn...

"Oh, good! I didn't see it! Now you can bring me a Reuben on Monday!"

"Well, Monday I'm going to Illinois to pick up a trash dumpster. I won't be there for lunch."

"WHAT? You always have an excuse!"

"I told you I was getting a dumpster from a lady off Facebook. She finally sent me her address. That's what I was waiting for. She had agreed to sell it to me, then when I asked for her address she quit talking to me. I don't know how she thought I was going to pick it up without knowing where it was! I didn't pay her nothin'. So it don't make no sense. It can't be a scam if I don't pay her until I pick it up."

"Of all the days, you have to go to Illinois for a DUMPSTER on REUBEN DAY?"

"Yeah. I need it for the apartments. It's a long way to go, but I'll get my money back from the apartments. I'll try to tell my friend who runs the kitchen to save me a Reuben. Maybe I can get back in time to pick it up."

Have I mentioned that I do not like Hick having his less-than-$300-a-month job with the senior apartments? Now it might cost me a Reuben!

Odd Ends at Bargain House

Hick has been project-hopping at Bargain House. Some days Old Buddy calls in sick, so he works on things that he can do alone. When he has Old Buddy, they sometimes work together on things like putting down the flooring, or running pipes for plumbing. Other times, Hick designates things for Old Buddy to do, while he runs errands to pick up materials.

Monday, Hick sent a picture of the back door, where he made a laundry room by enclosing a section of the original back porch.

"New window installed by back door into laundry room." It's a cute little window. Enough to see out if somebody is at your back door, and onto the side street. Of course, there's a peephole in the back door now. And it looks much better painted.

I questioned Hick about that door when he put it in. "Isn't that an INSIDE door? It doesn't look like it will hold up to the weather." Hick said it is designed to be an outside door. That a coat of paint would protect it. It's a solid door, not a hollow-core door like used for interiors. And that most houses used to have wooden doors anyway, not metal doors like we have today.

A door's a door. It keeps your stuff in, and people out. Now there's a laundry room for the future occupants. Which I think is an improvement, considering the back porch originally looked like this:

I don't know about you, but I'd much rather have a house with a wooden back door in the laundry room than a back porch like this.

Now the battle starts again. Hick wants to leave this "addition" like it is, except putting a stain on the wood. I think it needs siding, which Hick refuses. Or at least to be painted light yellow to match the siding on the rest of the house, because like this, it sticks out like sore thumb. 

"I WANT it to stand out, Val! The whole point is that you want people to notice a door."

"Then you should have painted the door some other color besides white! This section stands out, but not in a good way. I'll ask my people what they think! I'm pretty sure they will go for the siding, or at least paint that can match the house."

Of course, Hick will do what Hick wants to do. I just don't see the point of trying to make the rest of the house "nice" by putting in that cute little window, and then making this part look cobbled on. Prospective buyers are not going to know what an eyesore the back porch USED to be. They'll just notice what an eyesore it is now...

The Opening Before the Closing

The Pony and I were at the title office at 1:45, for our closing scheduled at 2:00. 

"There's Dad's truck, but I don't know if he's in there or inside visiting his buddy."

"I know. Is that Realtor's car parked in front of us? Is she able to drive again? It's a big car, like hers. Text Dad and see if he's inside yet."

"I did, but I'm not getting a response. He hasn't read it."

"His phone is messed up. He might not get it until tomorrow. Call him."

"No. That's alright..."

"Okay. I'll call."

Hick answered on the second ring. He was not inside yet, but at his buddy's place. In fact, he sounded annoyed that I had bothered him."

"Well. That was abrupt!"

"That's just Dad."

A couple minutes later, The Pony said he was coming down the sidewalk. Which is elevated to about waist high, and has steps and a ramp for access. I looked out The Pony's window, and saw two waists and their accompanying sets of legs. It was Hick, and his buddy.

"You're parked about like them people up there! Bad."

"Well, I couldn't see the curb because your truck is parked behind me, and I had to cut in at an angle. I didn't want to hit the wall with the side of my car."

"My buddy came out to see you. Remember him?"

"Uh... no?"

"Are you sure? You should! Don't you remember him from the games?"

"Games...? I don't know what you're talking about."

Buddy leaned over and looked in the window. "From trivia? With This Guy and His Wife?"

"Oh. That must have been over at Heritage Hall. I'm sorry. I knew you weren't one of the teachers I played with all the time. That's been 15 or 20 years ago!"

"Yes. That was it."

"See? I told you she cain't remember nothin'! This is just more proof."

Then Hick said we should go on inside, because they were probably ready for us. And Hick just stood there staring at me while I navigated three steps, then went out of my way to get to the bottom of the ramp to get to the door. THEN he went in first, leaving The Pony to grab the door and hold it for me.

Realtor was already inside, which surprised Hick. "I thought you wasn't gonna be here today."

"I had an appointment this morning, but I got back in time. My husband drove me. He's waiting out front." Realtor also had a CANE! Not only is she still recovering from her fractured humerus, and that SLOW trip in the ambulance when she lost consciousness and fell... but now her back is hurt, so she's walking with a cane.

As we were leaving, Hick went out of the conference room first. Then Realtor. Then me, followed by The Pony, who had held my rolly chair so it  didn't roll away as I was getting up. Hick was holding the front door open for me! I was shocked! Until I realized he wasn't, when I was about halfway out.

I turned to Realtor. "Oh. Sorry. I should have known he wasn't holding the door open for ME! He was holding it for you!"

"That's okay. I'm slow enough with my back hurt." She passed me going down the ramp. Looked into that badly-parked big car in front of T-Hoe, and declared that her husband was ASLEEP! Heh, heh. At least my bad-parking self was able to stay awake during the 15-minute proceedings!

I was a little bit Not-Happy with Hick for his words and actions. Which he heard about later! To which he replied, "IF I hurt your feelings, THEN I'm sorry."

That's as close as I'm ever gonna get to an apology.

Another Closing for Hick the Land Baron

There's another real estate closing on Tuesday. It's one of Hick's tax sale properties that he bought when we were first married. Not the strip of land being used by another guy for his business. Hick has given up on getting anything from that one.

Anyhoo... this property is five adjacent lots at a local lake development. I don't think I've ever seen it. Hick might have gone once, just to survey his kingdom. At the closing when we sold our upper 10 acres, Realtor said she thought she had a buyer for this property. She DID!

We're not exactly getting rich off of our real estate dealings, heh, heh. For all her trouble, Realtor will earn between $100 and $125 on this commission. Hick called me because the title company needed to know the amount of taxes we paid on it last year. That was a grand total of $5.18.

I suppose the buyers want access to the lake. A place to park a camper, or build a little cabin. They should be able to do that with five lots. We're not using it. Hick can buy a few donuts with that $5.18 we won't be spending on the taxes.

As Realtor advertises, no property is too small for her to handle. Each sale puts her in contact with buyers and sellers who might use her services again. That's how we found her, when we bought Pony House five years ago.

Val Outsmarts The Universe

Saturday morning I was talking to The Pony about how my scratchers had been defeating me. How ever since before our casino trip, I couldn't seem to get a winner on a $10 ticket. The crosswords were also losing, but I HAD just gotten a $75 winner on one of the new Tetris $5 tickets.

"I'm glad I got that winner, but the last time I had a losing streak this long on the tens, I got that $1000 winner."

"You're going to get one today!"

"Heh, heh! Wouldn't THAT be nice!"

As usual, I left home with a plan for buying my scratchers. I always go to the Gas Station Chicken Store. That's where I'd cash my $75 winner, and get two crosswords and two Tetris tickets. From there, I planned to go to the Liquor Store across the street, or the Casey's across the moat, to get a crossword and a Tetris. Flush with winnings, I also wanted a $10 ticket.

Another task was to mail the Lowe's bill at the drive-thru mailbox at the post office by the giant sinkhole. I saw that the Liquor Store had a truck with a trailer attached, blocking the parking space at the end. It's not a handicap space, but assures nobody will park next to my door. I went past, figuring I'd go to the mailbox first. On the way there and back, I saw that Casey's parking lot was full, even the handicap space. And the truck/trailer were still at the Liquor Store, probably with the driver inside playing their fake slot machines.

Well. So much for my plan! I headed to 10Box, where I'd been the day before, getting a couple of $5 winners and a $10 loser. The left machine was out of the Tetris tickets. So I got two crosswords and a $10 ticket. The one that looked like it glowed the brightest. That's how I pick tickets when I don't have a plan for a certain kind. It has not been working for me lately! But Saturday, it DID:

It matched one number. That's a $1000 WINNER! 

Here's a little closer view, because I just really like looking at my winner.

When I scratched off all the numbers and saw that I had one winner, I figured it would be $10. I was happy, because maybe it meant that my ten-dollar-scratcher-slump was ending. When I uncovered the first of the giant ZEROs, I was extra-excited, because I thought I had a $100 winner. When I uncovered the third ZERO, I was ecstatic.

Seems like SOMEBODY is a little psychic. Not sure it if was The Pony for the prediction, or me for switching the plan and picking THIS ticket from the four of that denomination that were available.

I'm sure The Universe will soon deal me a reckoning. But for now, winning sure is fun.

Bargain House Status: Living Room

Hick is now working on the living room of Bargain House. It will need paint and flooring. The last thing he did was replace the front door with a new door. Once the living room is done, that only leaves the kitchen, which needs everything: flooring, cabinets, sink, and appliances. The end is in sight, but I don't know the time it will take, due to Hick's busy schedule.

Early last week, Hick said he had been thinking about the living room flooring.

"Since I had to replace the floor in the bedroom after that water leak, I don't have enough of the flooring left to do the living room. I've been thinking about a lighter color, to brighten up the room."

"What does it have, just that one window? How does it face?"

"It's on the west side."

"So the living room wouldn't get sunlight until afternoon. Yeah, I think a lighter color might be good for the floor."

"It will probably be what's the cheapest! That's how I usually pick the flooring. The most I can get for the lowest price. Like if they have a special deal on a return, or leftovers."

Hick sent me a picture Wednesday, of the flooring he picked. Just a couple pieces he laid down by the bedroom entrance, to show me the color.

I like it. There's enough of a difference between it and the other flooring to show that it wasn't just an attempt to match. It was a planned variation. I definitely think it will brighten up the living room.

Promises Made, Promises Broken: The Mayor Edition

You may recall that back in early June, when we sold the Double Hovel flip house(s), Hick got a call from the mayor. It was during that time that Hick had been consulting with our lawyer about the denial from the Planning and Zoning Commission to split the flip house properties. A prospective case which became moot after the sale.

Anyhoo... at that time the mayor had said the city was going to fix the sidewalk at our Bargain House flip property, after the budget was set in July. Hick took that as a promise, but I was suspicious that the whole conversation was just a fact-finding mission by the mayor, concerning a possible lawsuit about the zoning.

Anyhoo... on Thursday, Hick called the mayor, and asked when the sidewalk was being fixed.

"I told him it's after July now, into the next fiscal year, so I wondered when the sidewalk would be fixed. I told him I'd fallen twice on it since we last talked."

"Have you?"

"Well, no... but I STUMBLED a couple times, and I COULD have fallen and got hurt!"

"I bet they're not going to fix it. You're not holding a lawsuit over their head anymore. He doesn't need to make you happy for anything."

"Huh. He DID say that he's not sure they have the money. That they DISCUSSED the sidewalk. But he didn't really say they were going to fix it. 

I think the reason is because it's not a normal city sidewalk. It needs a retaining wall. It's not like the front sidewalk, that's level, and you can just pour the cement down on a gravel bed. It will need a retaining wall. That's what they should have done when they first built it. Then they built up the road, and now the sidewalk is collapsing into the yard. To fix it right, it will probably cost them an extra $3000 to $4000. So I'm not sure what they're going to do."

Typical glad-handing from a politician. If they don't need you to scratch their back, no reason for them to scratch yours! A lot of dirty hands, without one washing the other.

But seriously. Does this look like it's NOT a normal city sidewalk?

It's definitely a sidewalk, built by the city. And should be maintained by the city. I wonder about the liability if a person would trip on it and be injured. I guess the city is willing to take a chance on the odds of that happening. I know they're not made of money, and this would only affect a small number of people. 

The mayor should never have told Hick they would fix the sidewalk, before he checked into the feasibility of such repairs.

Sour Grapes from a Bad Apple

There's trouble in paradise! Hick was enjoying his Senior Center lunch of meat loaf on Wednesday, when word of betrayal reached his ears.

"Them girls--I mean women--were telling me that I needed to talk to one of the apartment guys. They said he'd been down in the lobby, cussin' me and sayin' he was gonna call Channel 2 News! Something about how I didn't clean his rug.

After lunch, I went up there and knocked on the door. I said,'I hear you been cussin' me down in the lobby. If you have a problem, I need to know about it so I can fix it. But you ain't gonna be goin' around cussin' me and makin' threats.'

He said he'd do anything he wanted! That I hadn't cleaned his rug, and he was callin' the news, and that he'd have my job! I said he could do whatever he wanted, but that if he didn't like the way things were done, he might need to think about moving. That he wasn't gonna live there and be cussin' me out in the public areas.

He wanted to know who owned the apartments, and I said the city. He wanted a phone number to complain, but I said I'M THE PHONE NUMBER! That the city leases it to the foundation that I work for. He wanted their number, but they don't have one. Just my boss's personal number, and I wasn't givin' that to him. Then he asked who I gave the checks to, and I said to the foundation's accountant."

"I guess he thought you owned that building, and you're getting rich from his $700 a month rent."

"I did tell him that I just took over in March, when only 5 apartments were rented, and I fixed them up, and now 14 are rented. Now that it's making money, we have more funds to fix things."

"Did you tell him you make less than $300 a month?"

"No. But I wish I had!

I went back downstairs and was talkin' to the girls. The lady from the apartment beside that guy came down, and said she could hear us through the wall, and that I was polite to the guy, even though we was yellin'. Then he came down and started in again.

About his rug, how it wasn't cleaned. I told him it WAS cleaned, and that's the best my guy could do. I paid Old Buddy to clean it. I said the guy could go rent a carpet cleaner and do it himself, and give me the bill. Or he could use the carpet cleaner we have, and the soap we have. And if he's really good at it, I'll hire HIM to do all of them, and pay HIM instead of Old Buddy. He went back upstairs after that.

A little while later, he came back, and said, 'As far as I'm concerned, it's over. I'm good. Are you good?' I told him that he's not going to cuss me and complain about stuff that I don't even know needs to be fixed. He can't be bad-mouthin' me in the public areas, or he's gonna have to find somewhere else to live. That's how it ended.

I told my boss later, and he said yeah, there's no lease. It's month to month. And that if somebody is a problem, we can move them out."

Have I mentioned that I would prefer Hick to NOT HAVE this job?

The Squirrel Hunter Has Forsaken Us

It's anarchy here at our hillbilly mansion! The squirrels are running rampant again. Hick needs to tell his buddy to come back. PLEASE!

For a while, Squirrel Hunter was coming every day. He got here around the time Hick was leaving, or at least by 8:00, and stayed until noon. I barely knew he was here, aside from the occasional shot. He parked out of the way along the driveway. I only saw him once, when I went to the kitchen, and he was out back with another dude about his size. They were wearing camouflage overalls and caps, each carrying a rifle, and Squirrel Hunter himself was dangling a HUGE squirrel by the tail, swinging it as he walked. That was out by the feeder in the back yard. They had just come up out of the woods. Hick said later that Squirrel Hunter had brought his brother with him that day.

There are plenty of squirrels to go around! Squirrel Hunter was getting about 10 per day. Hick said he offered to fry one up and bring it to him at his SUS2.5, to see how good it was. When I told Hick I hadn't heard that many shots, Hick said that one day he got three squirrels with one shot! I guess that's what happens when you shoot them off a feeder full of corn. Not that I'm complaining.

I suppose maybe Squirrel Hunter has a freezer full of meat right now. Or maybe he's taking some time off, because I think it might be deer bow-hunting season. Our neighbor has his deer-colored dog tied up, as he does during the hunting season. So maybe.

We had a peaceful couple of weeks after the squirrel harvest. Even my little dog Jack was surprised, when he'd go to his self-feeder, and DOG FOOD was in it! He'd perk up, all happy, like it was Christmas morning. Jack was used to it being empty, after eating his breakfast, because the squirrels ate from it all day long.  

Now the squirrels are back. Probably cousins of the departed. They chase along the porch rail again. Yesterday I surprised them on the side porch. One was sitting on a metal chair, another was sitting on top of the self-feeder. I guess my over-stuffed half-sausage-dog Jack can't be bothered to lie on that side of the porch to discourage them. He can't reach them once they jump up on the rail, but he DOES make a big show of chasing them into the edge of the woods when I come down the driveway.

As I type this, it's 12:45, and a giant squirrel is sitting on the corner of the porch rail. He's holding a kernel of dry dog food in his hands, munching like he's taking a snack break, building up energy to climb the window screens.

Come back, Squirrel Hunter! There's a lot of fat and sassy game that needs to be put in its place: YOUR FREEZER!

A Little Grilling

Hick fired up GassyG Jr on Monday evening, to grill some bratwursts and hot dogs. I had picked up The Pony to come out and get the sides ready. It was really easy this time. Just some baked beans we put in the oven for a couple hours, and then some frozen onion rings and potato coins. Hick didn't want a salad. Can you believe THAT? The Pony also wanted some Sister Schubert's Rolls.

That's The Pony's plate. Such a waste, putting KETCHUP on a bratwurst! There oughta be a law! I don't know if that was the regular bratwurst, or the beer brat. Hick was supposed to arrange them differently in the roaster pan he brought in full of brats, but I didn't see which kind The Pony took. 

Here is Hick's plate. He had a hot dog and a bratwurst. I can't believe there's no mustard on that hot dog! I got the jumbo kind, and Hick cooked them just right. I love a good blistered hot dog! Don't get me started on that shirt. I have no idea what that design is, but Hick was out in town wearing it all day. His plate looks a bit meager for him, but he DID enjoy glazed ham and sweet potatoes at his Senior Center lunch.

There's my plate. I don't like my food running together on the plate. Not a fanatic about it, but I prefer a ramekin to hold some of the sloppier stuff. I had slaw. Everybody (except Hick and The Pony) knows that slaw goes great with bratwursts. My onion rings are what was left on the baking pan. That's my sacrifice, you know, letting Hick and The Pony have the GOOD onion rings.

There's my salad. I thought it was a little different than usual. Something not quite right. Then the next day, I realized that I had forgotten to add tomatoes!!! It was still pretty good. Iceberg lettuce, shredded cheddar, diced boiled egg, Ken's Steakhouse Blue Cheese Dressing, and crispy onions.

Once again, I didn't take a picture of the desserts. They were just storebought off the bakery table. Some cinnamon swirl bread, banana nut bread, and chocolate chunk cookies. 

Everybody enjoyed the feast. The Pony took home enough for a few meals, and Hick and I will be having the rest for a few nights. I will definitely remember tomatoes for my salad this time! They are sitting on the counter RIGHT BY where I made that salad without them. Didn't help me remember then, but the lack of them will spur my memory, I think.

Val's Casino Bankroll Grows Fat and Sassy

I had a really good day at the casino on Monday. I had a feeling it was going to happen, because I'd been in a scratcher slump. The two vices seem to work opposite each other. Even Steven wants credit for that.

Anyhoo... Hick dropped us off, and went to visit his pawn shop friend who usually has special deals on merchandise for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). We agreed to meet at 12:45 for lunch, and The Pony and I proceeded to feed our respective casino bankrolls into the slot machines. We move around together, and find machines to play where we are within speaking distance. You know, to brag about bonuses.

The slots sure did love me that day! Almost every one I played gave me a bonus. Multiple bonuses. Not saying they were all large amounts. A bonus is still a bonus. You have the excitement of an OPPORTUNITY to win something big, like the time I won $8,600. Or last Christmas when The Pony won $16,000. Nothing like that on Monday, though.

My best win was on a Buffalo Chief slot machine. All I caught in the picture was the last screen of my bonus, which didn't win much of anything. It's the TOTAL that counts, after all my free games played out.

That was a $402.65 bonus, on an 80-cent bet. I had put a twenty in, and was playing on what it was giving back. I had a little under ten dollars left in it when this bonus hit. The Pony was sitting to my right. Losing, on the same kind of machine. But happy for my win!

The next best bonus was on a Tall Fortunes slot machine, the Buffalo Gold game. I didn't get the tower bonus, but I DID get a regular bonus, and collected all 15 of the special Buffalo, which changed other animals into Buffalo.

That was a $312.84 bonus. Not quite as good as the other. Not only by the amount, but because the bet on this machine is $2.40 a spin, because there are four screens that you're playing at once. So money goes fast if you don't get any bonuses. It took me several twenties before this bonus hit.

Anyhoo... I had good luck at everything I sat down to play. I was getting so used to it that I didn't take any other pictures! I left with my entire casino bankroll intact, plus a healthy profit. Hick lost a bit, and The Pony lost a bit more. However...

Flush with my winnings, I decided to spend some on the way home. Hick always stops at a Love's Truck Stop halfway home, for a diet soda, candy bar, and the bathroom. They have a lottery machine inside. I knew better than to try, what with my casino luck. So I designated The Pony as my agent.

"Pony. I'm giving you some of my winnings to go in and buy tickets out of the machine. I'll give you $60, and me $40. Get whatever you want, but I'd like two tens, and four fives. Crossoword and Tetris if they have them, otherwise whatever you think."

The Pony came back with our tickets, and began scratching in the car. I always wait until I'm home. Not sure if it was my lucky money, or The Pony's flat-out scratcher luck, but here's what his tickets won. The Pony likes the high-dollar tickets, and chose two $30 scratchers.

The Pony is a lucky dog! Each ticket won $100! Of course The Pony was thrilled, being out of the red from the casino losses. That first ticket has a 10X symbol with a $10 prize, and the second had a 2X symbol with a $50 prize.

Once home, I discovered that I had two winning scratchers. One of the tens won $77. And one of the fives won $15. So I had $92 back of the $100 I gave The Pony to buy our tickets. I'm not going to complain about an $8 loss, heh, heh. Especially since my money gave The Pony $200 for just walking in and pushing buttons on a machine. Kind of like how I won my jackpots...

Val Gets Fried Up

We went to the casino last Monday. Of course the high point, as usual, was LUNCH. Or it should have been the high point. I guess it was okay, in retrospect, considering how Val still thought she had a Reuben coming her way on Friday.

Hick chose the catfish and fries. When I saw it, I wanted to ask, "Where's the catfish?" I didn't, because I don't need any similarities pointed out to Clara Peller. But my point is, they used to advertise it as ONE POUND OF FRIED CATFISH FILLETS. And it WAS! I used to order it, and the fish was plentiful and delicious. Then ownership of the casino changed, and it became 3/4 POUND OF FRIED CATFISH. And a year later it was not mentioned how much catfish you would get.

Hick said the catfish was good, but he didn't like the spice stuff in the batter. Back when I used to order it, the batter was not spicy. 

I chose the fried chicken sandwich. I really wanted the grilled chicken sandwich, but it was $3 more, because it came with bacon and cheese. I don't want bacon and cheese on my grilled chicken! I can't imagine they would have cut the price by $3 if I asked to leave them off. Don't even get me started on asking for a fried chicken sandwich, but made with grilled chicken! I still remember my sister the ex-mayor's wife arguing for 30 minutes with them, trying to get some BBQ sauce on her chicken sandwich.

My fried chicken sandwich looked pretty good. It came with "comeback sauce" and pickles and onions. The Pony took the picture, which didn't do the sandwich justice from that angle. So another was necessary.

It was a nice plump piece of chicken breast. The first two bites were delicious. Then I got to the twisty part. You know, the chicken that is all tough with fibers weaving different ways, and you can't really chew it for eating, because it's more like chewing gum! That was a disappointment. But I was not the only one to be disappointed!

We usually get the COMBO, which comes with fries and a fountain drink for a "cheaper" price. This time, there were no fountain drinks available because the city was under a BOIL WATER order, and such drinks were not allowed, because they use ice made from the city water. Don't even suggest that a bottle of soda might have been substituted! No Siree, Bob! Not at this place. We still got fries, because that's what you want when you get lunch out, not just a sandwich or some catfish by itself. Let the record show that fries here cost $5. 

The Pony saw that a special this day was corn dogs. They're usually not on the menu. The Pony loves corn dogs. They look pretty good to me.

You may notice a lack of fries on The Pony's cardboard dish. As we were ordering, we all had food credit on our players' cards. The Pony decided to get fries as the gal was getting the credits off of our cards. She acknowledged the fries, and I thought she added them to the order. The Pony had more food credit left for another time, somehow. But we still got a bill for $5.48, which Hick paid with our debit card.

Anyhoo... the food came out, and The Pony did not get fries. Even the gal said, as she set them down, "Didn't you order fries?" The Pony agreed. She went back to her register, and we heard her asking, and said, "Yeah, I thought so." We waited. Not so much held up eating, but ate our food, anticipating the arrival of The Pony's fries. Which never came. Which kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I had told her let's check the receipt, but she said, "It won't be on there." Which was right. All they ever give you on their receipt is a total. I already threw it away, or I'd show a picture. Don't you worry about The Pony. I shared my fries, with an understanding that when his came, I'd get some of them. Didn't happen. THIEVES!

At least The Pony's corn dogs were tasty. We'll get to the gambling part tomorrow.

Beware of Boxing with Val

We are having a cookout on Monday. That's because it's been a while, and Hick didn't want to do it on Labor Day, because of his precious BUSINESS activities. The Pony is free, and said sausages or hamburgers would be fine. Nothing elaborate. We set out to gather our provisions.

I buy meat at Save A Lot. It's better than what you get at Walmart or Country Mart, and 10Box doesn't have store-made bratwursts. Usually I shop in Backroads, but with The Pony along, we went to the Save A Lot in Sis-Town. If you are familiar with Save A Lot, you know that it's a place where you bag your own groceries at a counter up front. Their bags are small and flimsy. On the way in, I told The Pony:

"Keep your eye out for good boxes. I'll have to carry this in when I get home, because Dad won't be there. I don't want a lot of bags. Boxes are always hard to find at this one. So if something is almost out, we'll put it directly on the shelf, and take the box with us."

I do this all the time when the other store is low on boxes up front under the bagging counter. Like at the end/first of the month, when people are moving. They come in and take boxes. Save A Lot doesn't care. It gets rid of the boxes.

Anyhoo... this Save A Lot must have more efficient staff, because there were NO suitable boxes to be found along the aisles. The closest we came was a box that had five boxes of crackers in it. They would have been easy to stack on the shelf, but The Pony said no! I don't set out with a plan to embarrass The Pony. So I acquiesced.

Our shopping trip was disappointing, because there were NO BRATWURSTS! Only the name-brand kind, which we didn't want. The only store version were the sausage patties. And only in two flavors: jalapeno, and smokehouse cheese. We don't like spicy, and we don't like cheese in our bratwurst. The patty was not a deal-breaker, but the flavor was. So we went without bratwursts and buns, because when I try the other store in Backroads, I don't know if I might find sausages or patties.

Anyhoo... we found a few other items, like lettuce and beans and chips and onion rings and boneless McRib-like shaped pork patties. The Pony wanted a bag of cereal and some sweet-and-sour sauce, and corn dogs. I said it was on me. Because I'm a big spender, you know, and the corn dogs were part of the 5 for $25 deal that included the onion rings and McRib patties.

There was only one lady ahead of us at the checkout, just finishing up. 

"You go in first, Pony, to set out the stuff in the bottom of the cart. And see if you can find a box under the counter."

The cashier scanned the stuff and put it in a cart. The Pony wheeled it off while I was paying with my card, and moving my empty cart around the end of the conveyor for the cashier to use for the next customer.

As I was stuffing my receipt in my shirt pocket, I saw a terrible box in the cart! It was a low, square, brown cardboard box, with a wide flap on each side. No! That was unacceptable! Flaps just get in the way, and you can't stack stuff in a low box, and it's awkward to carry.

"No! I don't want that kind of box!"

The hands putting items into that box stopped. An old lady looked at me like I was a raving maniac! I suppose I WAS! I noticed The Pony off to the left side of the counter, waving at me. To be fair, the Old Lady was right in front of me, barely away from the checkout...

"Oh! I am SO SORRY! I wasn't looking. I thought that was my cart! How embarrassing! Never mind. I AM sorry!"

Heh, heh! So much for not-embarrassing The Pony! Who found a suitable box under the counter, tall sides, orange, rectangular, and easy to carry.

It may take me several days to recover from extracting my foot from my mouth.

How Many Hicks Does it Take to Flip a House

Here's a brief update on the cheap house that Hick was notified about a couple weeks ago. You know, the house that Val was reluctant to invest in, due to its condition, and Hick's very busy schedule.

HICK'S OFFER WAS ACCEPTED!

Hick got the call on Thursday afternoon, when he got back into phone service range after working on a paid job for our old Backcreek Neighbors Nick and Bev. (Another prime example of why I don't think Hick needs another flip house right now!) The person in charge had submitted Hick's offer to the board of directors (or the group who makes those decisions, I'm not sure of their title), and they accepted. Money in the hand is better than a run-down property on the street!

Hick walked into our financial facility to withdraw some of HIS money for business purposes. He saw Loan Officer on the phone. Loan Officer said he had just been talking to the girl upstairs about paperwork to close the deal. He asked if Hick needed a loan, and Hick said, "No, we have the money." Once a loan officer, always a loan officer, heh, heh!

Let the record show that Hick's offer was less than the $22,000 that Loan Officer had told him it could probably be purchased for. Hick has a rough idea how much renovations will cost. And what property is worth, and connections for basic labor to gut the property. Hick said he would pay a guy a set amount to gut it, and however long it took would be up to him. That way Hick wouldn't be paying by the hour, and the guy would only get paid when work was done. He says renting a commercial dumpster is the way to go, rather than hauling loads of trash to the landfill. That he can rent a dumpster for a flat fee, with no time limit, until he fills it up.

Anyhoo... that's the status of the deal. We're just waiting on a closing date and location. As you might imagine, Hick is thrilled, The Pony is happy, and Val is preparing for another set of bills to keep track of.

More details will be revealed as they become available.

Reuben Is in Danger!

Looks like it's time for Val to realize that her happiness is just not a top priority for Hick. He brought home a menu for the Senior Center only a week late this month, and he professed that it was okay, because he KNEW the Reuben Sandwiches were on the 19th. Yes. They are. As I type this, tomorrow is the 19th.

I have mentioned it every morning this week, while telling Hick what I was making him for supper. "And Friday is the Reuben. So we'll have that."

This morning, I again mentioned Reubens for tomorrow.

"Well. If I can. I don't always make it there in time for lunch on Fridays."

Same song, different day. He tried this a couple months ago, and still ended up getting the Reubens, because I reminded him how he had made it there in time for LASAGNA the previous Friday. Just to eat for himself, you know, not to bring home for me. If it's easy enough to get there to eat lasagna, I would think it's easy enough to get there to eat a Reuben Sandwich and bring me one.

I'm pretty sure Hick just doesn't want to make the effort to bring home a Reuben.

As his punishment, he will have to bring home pizza. That will keep me from cooking for three days, heh, heh, instead of one. I suggested this switch, and Hick lobbied for Chinese. No siree, Bob! Chinese will feed ME for three days, but Hick eats his all at once. Leaving me to make something else for him those other two days.

It will be a cold day in Backroads when Hick can outwit Val! The temp right now is 89.

Santa in September

We went to the casino on Monday, so I was trapped in A-Cad with Hick for three hours. Hick's phone is connected to A-Cad's radio. Every time he got a text or call, The Pony and I were privy to Hick's business. Actual business. It's not all that interesting. Especially the call to order more inventory of items Hick would be picking up in Illinois the next day.

The incoming calls were more gossip-worthy. The first was a man from the apartments.

"Are you comin' today?"

"No. I won't be there until tomorrow morning."

"Oh. Well. I just thought you should know, before somebody else tells you, that the window in the laundry room is open. I was out walking around, kind of inspecting the place even though it ain't my job, and I saw it. There's no screen in it. I had seen so-and-so in there earlier. So I thought you should know about that."

"Okay. I'll be there tomorrow morning. Talk to you then."

"Who was that, your informant?"

"Nah. There's one lady there he don't like. He complains about her and thinks I should have a talk with her."

"She might have been in there smoking. Or somebody. Why else would somebody leave a window open in the laundry room, in this heat?"

"She does get into some problems. I think she likes to drink. A lot. And probably smoke, but not cigarettes."

"There you go! That's why the window was open."

"She could do that stuff in her own apartment with the window open. I don't know why she'd go to the laundry room. Unless she was doing laundry."

Within 30 minutes, another resident called. A lady this time, but not the problem.

"Will you be here today?"

"No. I won't be there until tomorrow."

"Oh. Tomorrow? I was in the bathroom yesterday, and my curtain fell down off the window."

"I can fix it tomorrow. But I'm not going to be there today."

"Oh..."

"Okay? I'll see you tomorrow, then. Bye."

"This job takes SO MUCH TIME for things that are nothing. Why don't you just go over there all day, and let them sit on your lap like Santa Claus, and tell you everything they want?"

Hick was digging at his seat belt. At his real belt. At the holster that carries his phone. He took out the phone and pushed on it. "There. Now it's hung up."

"Heh, heh! Was she listening to me? I thought it shut off."

"She didn't hang up like the old guy did. I doubt she heard anything. She's got a caregiver who comes every day."

"Why can't the caregiver hang up her curtain? Isn't that what they do? Take care of things?"

"I would think so."

"And I don't think your job [for less than $300 a month] calls for you to hang up people's curtains. Or lecture them about getting along with each other."

"It don't. But they're always wantin' somthing from me, that's true."

On Tuesday, Hick went by the apartments. Of course he was there to have lunch at the Senior Center downstairs. But he put a screen on the window and closed it. And found out the caregiver had already hung up that woman's curtain."

"What about the old man? Did you give that lady a lecture for him?"

"No. When I talked to him, he'd forgotten why he called me! So I didn't bring it up. Just told him I put a screen in the window. He's 87 years old."

I wonder if I could get one of the elderly residents to call Hick and say they have a 2008 Chevy Tahoe that needs an oil change...

Hick Needs an Intervention

Darn that Loan Officer! He has awoken the sleeping overworked dragon! No, we have not heard back from Loan Officer about that really cheap house he contacted Hick about last week. But he has put a bug in Hick's ear, and a thirst for MORE WORK in his veins.

Hick called me Tuesday afternoon around 1:30. Not a text, mind you, but an actual phone call. This is disturbing. It often means something is wrong. The first conclusion to jump to is a health issue with a family member. The next is usually the case: a problem with a flip house, or something else that's going to cost money. 

"I come over here in Sis-Town, not far from HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) House, where that gal lived he used to know. They said there was a load of lumber. I got here, and there was only 14 boards. So I guess somebody else must of took some of it. But anyway, her house burned a while back. It's not all burned. It's gutted, and some of the inside is charred. But it's a good house. It's on a double lot. I bet it could be bought for what that other house is worth..."

"NO! I don't want a house in Sis-Town. I don't like the way they do things. Just another property for them to be on you about constantly. They still haven't done anything to Pony's tree growing out of the ditch."

"But it's on a double lot. Right here in the city. And it's already gutted..."

"No. I don't have a good feeling about it. I don't want anything to do with people we know. The house isn't for sale. You start fixing it up, and they might want it back, or just flat out move in, and then you can't get rid of them. No."

"That's what you said about the cheap house. That you're afraid the guy might try to get it back."

"Yes. So the answer is no."

"Well... okay. But I think this would be a good deal."

"No."

Hick hoards collects many things, but flip houses are not going to be one of them.

Val Makes a Chilling Discovery

The Pony came out Sunday evening to help Hick prepare POOLIO for the winter. The cover has to be spread evenly, and tied down with cords at intervals around the sides. It was a steamy 94 degrees as I left for town.

When I came home, the job was done. Hick and The Pony were chatting in the living room, The Pony sipping ice water from a red SOLO cup. That's one thing The Pony misses while living in town: our well water.

I started preparing my Shasta Zero Sugar with squeezed lemon juice. When I opened FRIG II's freezer, I was astounded.

"What's going on here? The ice is FULL! Way too full. It wasn't like that this morning at 10:00, when I put ice in my water bottle."

"Oh. You mean it's WORKING," said The Pony.

"It's been working for quite a while now, ever since it spontaneously started up again after months of being broken. But it hasn't been working THIS much!"

I reached into the bin for my plentiful crescent ice cubes. We haven't used the lever on the outside of the door for many years. It had a habit of getting ice stuck in the opening, then crushing it into a powder. So Hick "fixed" it. Which meant that now it has a problem of shooting too much ice out, and not stopping, because Hick removed some part. 

Anyhoo... as I tried to grab a handful of ice, I realized that I was holding a SLAB of ice as long as the bin. It was on the right side, with loose cubes in the center.

"OH! I just found out why the ice bin is so full! It appears that PONY used the lever when getting ice for ice water! And pushing the lever made that spiral turning thing in the bottom move a slab of ice off the bottom of the bin, and all the other cubes are just sitting on top of it after it was lifted up."

"What? Oh. I DID use the lever..."

"Come get this slab out. We might have to take out the bin."

"Nope. I got it."

The Pony pulled out that slab of ice. It was as long as my laptop, and half as wide. The Pony chucked it into the sink, and went back for another slab, about 2/3 its size. The ice cube level was back to normal, and my sink was full of icebergs. Which I found out later had settled on the drain plug thingy, so I had a sink full of ice water.

The mystery was solved, and FRIG II's freezer is still making ice.

Val Has a Rare Reversal of Opinion

I left for town around 4:30 on Saturday. As I was easing myself one leg at a time down the steps, talking to Jack on the side porch, I heard a vehicle tearing down the gravel road. At first I thought maybe it was someone on a tractor, smoothing the gravel around. But it sounded too fast for that as it passed. So I deduced that it must be a 4-wheeler or side-by-side (like Hick's Gator, only sportier). When I got to the end of the driveway, I could see nothing but a cloud of dust hanging over the road. No vehicle in sight. But the tracks on the gravel screamed SIDE-BY-SIDE!

A tractor is wider than a car. These tire prints were closer together. And had made a distinct pattern in the gravel. It was like an S or a $. Weaving from side to side. JOYRIDING! Maybe to live dangerously. Maybe to kick up dust for fun. In any case, such evidence did nothing to rekindle (oops! KINDLE. You can't "re" something that was never there) Val's love fondness toleration of side-by-sides. They are the devil's mount! Keep them away from me! Accidents waiting to happen!

That's how I feel about these vehicles on the roads, like our 55 mph lettered blacktop highway to town. So many people drive them, with no sides, no helmets, and kids riding in the back. They don't stand a chance in a collision with a REAL automobile.

Anyhoo... this is the country. Our gravel road doesn't have a lot of traffic compared to the blacktop highway. But there ARE 45 families out here. So there are cars and trucks on the gravel road. Most drive around 25 mph, except the idiots. It's the weekend. Visitors and kids are out riding on the gravel road. There was really no reason for my cantankerousness. Still, I was sad that nobody was around to see me shake my fist and grimace in their direction.

I tooled along in T-Hoe, kicking up my own dust. At the top of Hick and Buddy's Badly-Blacktopped Hill, I slowed cautiously, because there's a curve to the left halfway down, and you can't see what's coming up. With that deep ditch along the right side, I don't want to have a collision, or tip over trying to get out of the way.

 

Welp! Here came a side-by-side, around the curve, tearing up the hill! It was driven by a teenage boy, with several cronies as passengers. I hit the brakes and eased T-Hoe as close as I could get to the ditch/chasm. And the most unexpected thing happened!

The SxS Driver slowed, pulled all the way over next to the trees, with only two tires left of the gravel, and stopped!!!

I gave a thank-you wave, and continued down the hill. That's when the most unbelievable thing of all occurred! 

SxS Driver lifted his hand to acknowledge my thank-you wave!!!

That's a pretty good kid. I hope he enjoyed his afternoon of joy-riding.

Too Many Carpenters Spoil the Apartment

Hick continues to be on-call for his newest job. I was trying to get his supper ready on Thursday night when his phone rang. The call went on and on. Of course I wanted supper to be Hick's focus, rather than an afterthought or an activity he could do while talking. This one would have been difficult. He was having a homemade McRib with sliced onion and pickle, with a side of thawed-out warmed-up roasted vegetables. That McRib was going to need two hands.

Hick wandered around the kitchen, letting forcing me to hear one side of the conversation. I hate that! It seemed like the call would never end. Hick finally saw me putting his rib on a plate, and wrapped up the conversation.

"That lady wanted to rent an apartment. I told her they were all full. I told her sometimes people move out. That one guy has been saying he's going to for months. And that I DO have one that I'm trying to fix up to get ready to rent, but it will take a while.

She said her dad is living in the city. He's lived in this place 36 years, and now it's being sold. Her and her husband want to get him down here, closer to them. He has too much money to get into any places that give assistance. He just needs a place to live. I told her I don't have any way of knowing when I might have an apartment. To text me her details, and I will put her on the waiting list with other people who have called me.

She said her husband is a retired carpenter, and he would be glad to help me get this other apartment ready. I said I can't do that. Because of insurance and stuff. I wish everybody I dealt with was like her!"

Heh, heh! Not me! She might be nice, but it's people like this who can take up a LOT OF TIME, just talking to them! Hick started off by telling her he didn't have any apartments available. Could she just ask if there was a waiting list, and move on? NO! Hick had to hear her entire life story, for something that was out of his control, and would have no influence on getting her an apartment. 

Not being mean. It's just that Hick's less-than-$300-a-month job sure takes up a lot of time.

The Pony was Yesterday Years Old Upon Learning...

The Pony joined me for Errand Day yesterday. One of the main stops is the bank. We both use the same one. I was withdrawing the weekly cash allowance for myself and Hick. The Pony was depositing some money from the recent sale of our upper 10 acres. I did my business at the drive-thru, while The Pony prefers to go into the lobby for transactions.

While we were out, The Pony was also going to give me some checks for expenses on the flip houses. I have been remiss in writing up the monthly bills for The Pony's records. I insist on separate checks for expenses attributed to the Double Hovel, Bargain House, and The Pony's house. So The Pony can keep it straight for tax purposes. Anyhoo... as I said, I'm behind with that. So there's June, July, and August to deal with.

I got my cash, and pulled around front for The Pony to go inside.

"I'll just write you my checks now, Mom."

"You don't have to do it today. I'm not going to put them in the bank today. I'll have to fill out my deposit slip and add it up. So next Thursday is when I'll deposit them."

"I can go ahead and give them to you while we're sitting here."

The Pony started writing out checks. 

"Huh. I was sure I had more than two checks with me! But look! What's this stuff? I thought it was just more checks and the carbons. But it's these other things."

"Those are your DEPOSIT SLIPS! Like, you fill it out and take it in with that check you're going to deposit right now."

"Why would I do THAT? I just give the girl the check and my ID."

"Um. Because it has your account number on it! So they know which account to deposit your check in!"

"She can just look that up with my ID!"

Kids any generation younger than ours these days! How will they survive?

On the flip side, I was reading an article (heh, heh, how many kids do THAT these days?) about a 7th grade teacher who asked his students to write down what 40-year-olds do for fun. I suspect that teacher might be 40 years old...

Anyhoo... here are some of the things those students listed:

Play Wordle

Crochet

Talk on their landlines

Sit in a chair and yell, "Get off of my lawn!"

Complain about everything I do

Balance their checkbook

Actually, they're not so wrong. Except maybe with the age of 40.