Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Kind of a Jack-Rumpus, But Not

As I parked T-Hoe in my rightful handicap space at the Gas Station Chicken Store on Monday, I saw a regular at the diesel pumps. Hick knows him. He drives a white dump truck. He's there every afternoon for gas, though we don't always cross paths. His wife just retired from the post office. She gave The Pony a uniform item when he first started working, before he got a uniform allowance. She was always nice to The Pony.

Anyhoo... Regular got back in his dump truck when he was done pumping gas, and backed it up to an area beside the moat, so the pumps were available to other customers. As I was starting inside, I heard Regular talking on his phone as he crossed the lot.

Once I got inside, I heard Regular telling the cashier, "Ain't nobody want to hear your conversation. Set it down and wait." He proceeded to pay for his gas, get his tickets for the FREE GAS weekly drawing, then left.

Here's the thing. I appreciate regular stopping his phone conversation while he was inside the store paying for his gas. So many customers keep that phone to their ear, talking, while the cashier is trying to explain to them how to use their card in that scanner on a wire. It takes extra time. Not pleasant in a small space with several people waiting.

Still, there is no reason that Regular could not have finished his conversation before going into the store. He could have sat in his truck. Stood beside his truck. Just told his wife (I presume) to call him back, or that he would call back. I sometimes call Hick at the end of the day, to see how close he is to home, to plan on whether he can carry groceries, or when I should start supper. I always start with, "Can you talk?" Because he might be in a convenience store getting a Diet Mountain Dew, or he might be driving, or buying materials to work on the flip house.

While I applaud Regular for not talking on his phone during his transaction, he really should have dealt with the situation before going inside, and acting like his wife was to blame.

Monday, April 14, 2025

In the Country, You Can Wait for Help, or Take Matters into Your Own Feet

On Thursday, the windy, windy day, I encountered traffic on our gravel road while leaving our enclave. It was a bright blue truck I've seen out here before. Not on our road, but the other road that goes to the back entrance. I waited for him to pass, then pulled out behind him. I don't like to delay people who might be in more of a hurry.

We proceeded along the creek, Blue Truck going just a little faster than T-Hoe. We both got on the country blacktop road to town. Blue Truck got ahead of me a bit more. I could see him crossing the low water bridge, then going up over the hill. The road has several dips and hills after that. I thought nothing of it until I saw Blue Truck parked in the road a couple hills ahead. What in the Not-Heaven?

As I got closer, I saw that Blue Truck had its flashers flashing. The driver, a guy in his late 30s, had walked back behind it, in the oncoming lane, where a tree branch lay 3/4 of the way across the road. The branch was the thickness of a man's arm, with little branches branching off of it. It was obviously a dead limb that had been blown off the tree.

T-Hoe would have had no trouble going over that dead branch, at a slow speed, just like Blue Truck had no problem. However, cars coming up on it would be likely to swerve, or come to a sudden stop. Not good for other drivers who might be near them. In fact, a white sedan came around the curve as I was waiting a good distance back from Blue Truck. It stopped beside that truck.

Blue Truck Guy stomped on that dead branch, breaking it into smaller pieces, then heaving them off the side of the road into the ditch. Once the road was clear, he jogged back to his truck and got in. The whole process took about three minutes. If he hadn't done that, the limb would probably still be there until a county road crew discovered it and dealt with it.

It took a week for the county road crew to put blacktop over the concrete of the low water bridge, where water had washed away two previous layers of blacktop in the recent flood. It had been like driving T-Hoe up two steps 8 inches high. Too bad Hick and his old friend Buddy didn't have any spare blacktop...

Sunday, April 13, 2025

Risk VS Reward, I Suppose

Val is playing the same old broken record, turned up to maximum volume today. I cannot believe the number of people who park illegally in handicap spaces. I guess they figure there is little chance of getting a ticket and a fine. The police have more pressing matters. If they don't pursue the drive-off gas thieves, they're not going to worry about a ne'er-do-well parking in a handicap space without a placard or license plate entitling them to do so. It seems to have become the rule, rather than the exception. In just two days, four people prevented Val from parking in her rightful handicap space.

On Friday, the regular bad-doer in the white Ford F250 pickup truck was once again in the handicap space at the Gas Station Chicken Store. This happens 3-4 times a week, that I know of! I'm sure he's there every day, but I am lucky enough to arrive at a different time. This was during maximum windage. I pulled into the space behind, by the FREE AIR hose, and waited. That guy came out after five minutes, and actually moved his truck over by the moat. Then went back inside. In fact, he was swifter than I, and beat me to the register. He was buying draw tickets with specific numbers. I suppose he had been checking scratcher tickets, then went back for more on a later drawing.

Over at 10Box, three spaces in front of the store had been taken up with a display of spring planting items on wooden pallets. Also, the clouds were dark, and a few sprinkles were falling. Not sure which reason prompted a middle-aged woman to park in a handicap space. No placard, no plate, no visible sign of impairment. Just entitled, I suppose. She came out and was getting in her car as I gimped inside.

On Saturday, I pulled onto the Gas Station Chicken Store lot as the car in front of me parked at the side of the building, with the two left tires over the line of the lone handicap space. Not only was this idiot blocking the handicap space, but also the driving lane! She was in her 40s, a bit ample in the rumpus, but walking just fine, at a regular pace. She even looked at me, stopped behind her, holding my hands up like "WTF, lady?" No shame in that one. She continued toward the door, while I went around her on the other side of the diesel pumps.

I took the alley over the moat, to Casey's. Where I discovered a white sedan parked in the lone handicap space. No plate, no placard. An elderly woman was sitting in the passenger seat. No driver. I had to park to the right of it, by the dumpster. I didn't see anyone inside that might have belonged to that car. Only one person in line, who didn't get in that car. I came out and initialed my scratchers, and still only the elderly white-haired woman was in it. Maybe the driver was waiting for a pizza. Not really a reason to take up that handicap space on a bright sunny 65-degree afternoon.

Is it wrong that I feel like ramming those cars, and going all Kathy Bates on them, yelling "I'm older, and I have more insurance!"

Saturday, April 12, 2025

It Blew Nobody Any Good

There was an ill wind on Thursday, my errand day. It was preceded by a black sky and downpour around noon. I felt sad for The Pony. At least the rain stopped within an hour. The wind continued to increase. I didn't look up the wind speed. That would have been too depressing, and might have discouraged me from heading to town! I will say that when I felt the effects, that wind seemed to gust stronger than the day it was 50 mph.

I survived my walk from the gas pumps into Casey's. As always on windy days, I parked so the wind would blow T-Hoe's large and heavy door open, and not slam it to amputate my legs as I tried to get in and out. At Country Mart, I had to park so far down the line of six handicap spaces that I just entered through the pharmacy door, and walked the length of that place to get a cart. 

The bank was my main problem. Still no drive-thru service. I figured that once I got in front of the building, I'd be fine, with the wind slowed by the brick structure. I was almost toppled in the five steps from T-Hoe to the ramp with handrails. I hung on to a rail with my left hand, while holding down my flapping shirt with my right. Nobody needs to see THAT indecent exposure. The Pony said I was on the verge of doing a Marilyn Monroe.

Speaking of The Pony, the wind was not kind to mailpeople either. And yet The Pony had sympathy for the city workers.

"I felt sorry for the street workers, or whoever was in charge of pouring concrete. They had just completed a patch, and had orange cones up around it to keep people from walking there. But the wind had blown two of the orange cones into the fresh concrete! It wasn't completely soft, but it wasn't yet solid. The cones were just barely too far for me to reach them, or I would have pulled them out. They had made lines where they scooted across. I was afraid if I tried, the wind would hit me and push me into the fresh concrete!"

Yeah. Nobody needs a Pony trapped in a sidewalk. The thought of a good deed will have to suffice.

Friday, April 11, 2025

A Genderational Study at the Supermarket

Funny how different generations approach everyday activities.  I mean funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha.

As I was heading to the checkout on Thursday in Country Mart, a young guy passed me. Nothing wrong with that. I was pushing my cart with three six-packs of Diet Mountain Dew for Hick, and a jar of dill pickle spears, some Caesar Dressing and Blue Cheese Dressing, and some chicken tenders from the deli. Not a lot. Everything but the soda fit in the child seat. Still, I don't blame Young Guy for passing me on the right as I wheeled my cart/walker along the front aisle.

Young Guy had no cart. He carried two cans of energy drink, and two bags of chips, in his bare hands. I'm not snack-shaming him. Maybe he was working the evening shift, and picking up his supper and "lunch." Maybe he had a friend waiting. He looked like a fit, hard-working guy around the late 20s.

As we approached the register, two high school girls peeked around the end of the snack aisle at us. Then they RAN to the register, to be sure to get ahead of us. They each carried a couple of snacks and a drink.

Again, no shade on those gals. First come, first served. But I would never run to get ahead of someone in line, even if my knees were willing. It's a generational thing. We elderlies will wait our turn in line, much like cud-chewing heifers, ruminating on our past. We might even (GASP) motion somebody to go ahead of us. That's how we were raised.

I don't know who is raising this younger generation! I never brought up my boys to act like that. You wait your turn, and offer others your place in line if you are not in a hurry, and they have less.

Young Guy was ahead of me, right after those gals. Here's another interesting behavior. 
MEN do not know how to go through a grocery line!

Young Guy put his drinks and chips on the conveyor. The cashier rang them up and bagged them, setting them at the end of the counter. Young Guy just stood there. Across from the cashier. He was paying cash, and did NOT move down toward the card-scanner. He was holding up the line. I couldn't get my stuff on the conveyor unless I rear-ended Young Guy with my cart pushing his butt. It's always MEN who do this! They can't proceed to the end to pick up their groceries. Or bag them at the end like in 10Box. They feel the need to hang out by the cashier, holding up the line.

Women don't do that! Women are gatherers. They go to the end so they can pick up their groceries or put them in bags. Men are hunters. They stand there handing over their cash. Delaying their trip to pick up the groceries. Like they are putting a foot on their conquest, waiting to be admired.

The guy behind me, of my generation, calmly waited his turn. Kudos for that. But I have a feeling he would also have blocked the line, standing there by the cashier, rather than moving down to the end before she asked for his payment.

Thursday, April 10, 2025

Another Lost Skill

Do schools even offer driver's education classes any more? I don't think so. Genius and The Pony did not have that option, but then again, Newmentia was a small school. Back in my VALEDICTORIAN days, my high school offered driver's education. I took it the summer after my sophomore year. You could get a discount on insurance if the teenager had taken (and passed, I assume) a driver's education class.

Of course the teacher was always a coach looking to make extra money over the summer. As I remember, we had instruction in a classroom, and then days when we actually drove. My group had three students. The instructor sat in the passenger seat, where he had his own steering wheel and brake. I don't remember using seatbelts. It was not a law back then. I DO remember sometimes clenching my fists and hoping not to die, as one of my fellow driving students made bonehead mistakes while operating that car.

When I got my first car, a Chevy Vega, the seatbelt had to be fastened while driving, or a chime would sound continuously. My peers thought they were quite funny when asking, "Are you afraid you'll fall out of the car?" in response to seeing me wearing a seatbelt. It could be fastend behind me, but driving while sitting on the fastened seatbelt was not comfortable, because the latch thingy poked into my not-yet-ample rumpus.

Anyhoo... Genius and The Pony were instructed by Hick. I didn't have the nerves for it, having given it a go with Genius, who was quite confident, having been a driver since 10 years old when Hick let him drive a Toyota around the property, with The Pony as a back-seat passenger!

Anyhoo... we made sure the boys had practice in parking. Which people these days DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO!


Can you see the yellow line? Oh, maybe not. Because it is UNDER THE CAR! This is why I have to cheat over with T-Hoe, and leave plenty of room for the door to open when I want to get back in. This guy backed into a space at the Backroads Casey's, right next to T-Hoe in the handicap space, even though there was nobody else on the lot. Six or eight other spaces could have been used. But this guy needed to park up next to T-Hoe.

At least I had left plenty of room from the line. There is nothing on the right side of my rightful handicap space. It's on the end. So I was not inconveniencing any other parkers.

How can people be so bad at parking???

Wednesday, April 9, 2025

I Suppose the Novelty Has Worn Off

You may recall that last year, Hick volunteered to be an election judge. He was assigned to a precinct that is 30 minutes from home. Yesterday was election day. Hick made sure to secure food to take. He went by Country Mart on Monday, and ordered a BIG SANDWICH. He said the people really liked it last time. 

Hick had to be at the precinct by 5:30 a.m. They really wanted him there by 5:15. So he was out of here before 5:00, with his sandwich in a cooler. He was a bit surprised that he was still an election judge, having presumed that it was a finite time limit.

When Hick got home shortly before 9:00 p.m., he conceded that he might be on that election judge list until he asked to be off. He thought he had been on it since last March or April, but I think it was July. He said he thinks he gets paid $16 per hour for it. I'm not sure, because Hick is kind of unreliable with such facts. I DO know that he worked 14 hours. And that next year, as with this year, he will receive a W2 from the county for his pay.

Hick brought home a little bit of his BIG SANDWICH this time.

"Oh, did they not like it as well? It really smelled like it had too much onion on it."

"No. They really liked it again. But there was only five of us this time."

"What else did you have to eat?"

"One lady brough a fruit tray that she made. She cut up some strawberries and apples."

"So you just had your sandwich, and a fruit tray???"

"No. Somebody brought a meat tray. And a loaf of bread. But everybody liked my sandwich more."

Huh. That's different from last time, when they had pulled pork, baked beans, macaroni salad, potato salad, and donuts! And unlike last time's 28 percent voter turnout, this time they had 15 percent. I don't know what issues were on the ballot. I didn't bother to get out and vote. Neither did Hick. So I guess 15 percent is good enough.

Hick was not as excited about working the election this time. I guess that's why they only had half the workers as last time. Nobody is passionate about any issues.

Tuesday, April 8, 2025

Another Grilling of Hick

Sunday, we had another grilling of Hick. He's quite a good BBQer. The menu this time was pork steaks and bratwurst. REAL bratwurst, courtesy of the Save A Lot butcher department. None of that brand name pre-packaged stuff. 


Hick chose a pork steak, with sides of Stove Top Stuffing (a favorite of The Pony), and baked beans with onions and hot dogs. That was a request from Hick. I normally bake the beans with diced onion, but Hick wanted hot dogs included this time.


The Pony chose bratwursts. Don't get me started on the KETCHUP, but I can understand the mayo. Also the Stove Top Stuffing, and a new addition, the baked beans. Normally The Pony does not choose the baked beans.


The Pony also enjoyed a baked potato and salad and Sister Schubert's Rolls. I had to take that picture twice, because The Pony chastised me for missing the peace sign.


I chose a bratwurst, saving my pork steak for another day. There are baked beans and SLAW, too. I don't have any phobia about food touching. I just like my sides in a ramekin, for portion control. No need for condiments on my brat, since slaw is a good accoutrement. 


Of course I had a salad. Not because I think it's healthy, with all my blue cheese dressing and crispy onions. Just because I LIKE salad.

The Pony went home with some cheesecake and cookies for dessert, along with the rest of the Stove Top, and four bratwursts with buns. Hick and I will be having BBQ pork steaks, and some bratwursts, over the next few days, with those baked beans.

Monday, April 7, 2025

Hick the Matchmaker (Not)

Hick came home from a day of selling at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) and said he got an interesting text from a customer.

"She asked me who was the guy driving the Dodge Charger."

"Isn't that the car from that TV show? What was it? The orange car with a number on the side. Maybe a 1?"

"The Dukes of Hazard? No. That was a Dodge Challenger. This was a Charger. A newer model. Kind of like a Barracuda."

"Oh! I had one of those in my Hot Wheels cars. It was purple. Really fast."

"Anyway, she asked me who that guy was. I think she's kind of sweet on him."

"You could be a matchmaker! Did you tell her who it was?"

"No. He's married! He's been married five or six times. I just told her that he's a regular customer."

"How old is she?"

"Probably in her 40s. Same as he is. But I'm not telling her who he is. He's married."

Well... for now, anyway! Never a dull moment for Hick.

Sunday, April 6, 2025

The Creeks Are Up

We're in the middle of four days of constant rain. At least we were in between the storm bands that brought tornadoes earlier in the week. Our hillbilly mansion sits high upon a hill. A tornado could be dangerous, but the water doesn't reach us, and the basement is without leaks.

We have a route to town that can avoid the main low water bridge.


That's our bridge, down by Mailbox Row, on Friday. I can tell by the level of the water on those supports that the main low water bridge will not be passable. I'd get you a picture, but that would require backing up T-Hoe to find a place to turn around once I took it. Not something I want to do on a narrow, curvy, blacktop road. Take my word for it. When the waters recede, I might be able to show the aftermath, if there's no traffic behind me.

On Saturday, the water was higher.


I knew it would be worse before I got to that point. The evidence was clear.


It was obvious the creek had been out of its banks earlier in the day. That's the gravel road leading to Mailbox Row.


A lot of debris was left high(er) and (not-so) dry when the creek receded. I'm glad I waited until the future radar showed a lull in the rain before heading to town. Hick was out of here early, before the road flooded.

Rain by itself won't keep me from town! Those scratchers aren't going to buy themselves. Rain won't keep Hick from going to his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) all weekend. Rain won't keep The Pony from walking 11.5 miles to deliver the mail every day.

Of course we had planned another cookout for Sunday. The rain is supposed to stop by afternoon. Even if not, Hick can wheel GassyG Jr around the porch to find a place out of the wind. The porch goes all the way around the house. Some section will be calm and dry. Hick will need to wear a jacket! The temp is only going to reach the low 50s. The Pony and I will be warm and dry inside, working up an appetite.

Saturday, April 5, 2025

They Must Be Saving Too Much

What's the deal here? I went to Save A Lot on Wednesday, and when I got back out to T-Hoe, I couldn't read the amount I spent on the receipt! Surely Save A Lot can afford to put ink in their receipt-printer! It's a mystery. 


I only wrote down the numbers I could read in my checkbook register. I could have tried to guess what that missing number was. But there was only a one in ten chance of being right. So I waited until Friday, when I used my bank's automated phone number to reconcile my account. 

Do you feel lucky? Want to wager a guess about that missing number? Be honest! You can put your guess in a comment. But I am going to put the answer below. So if you keep reading before guessing, you are cheating!

!
!
!
!
!

According to my bank's automated voice, that missing number was "1." That would not have been my guess.

Friday, April 4, 2025

Reuben Day Again!

Hick has not been bringing home a monthly menu from the Senior Center for the past couple months. Now that he's "working" there, maybe he will have lunch more often, and remember to bring one. Though I think there's probably another reason that we all realize will lead to him eating lunch there more often...

Anyhoo... on Monday Hick revealed that Tuesday would be REUBEN DAY! He said he'd bring me one for supper. That it would be easier without a certain person answering the phone. Indeed, Hick DID bring me my precious Reuben.


"Ooh! That looks good! How did you know they were having it?"

"I checked on my phone for the menu."

"Bring a menu home so I can see if I want something else. That salad looks good, but I could do without the beets."

"Oh. You don't like beets?"

"I'm pretty sure we went over this before. MORE THAN ONCE! I've never liked beats."

"I'll try to remember next time to tell them to leave out the beets."

When I looked in the dessert box, Hick was not home. I was mystified.


That is not what I would describe as appetizing. I gave it a sniff. It smelled sweet. Kind of like buttercream icing. But that's not cake. I don't know what the liquid is seeping out. When Hick got home again, I asked.

"I don't know what it was called, but it was good."

"You're getting it. I just wanted to know what it's supposed to be."

"It's cream cheese and grapes."

"Are you sure? It looks more like Cool Whip."

"It might be Miracle Whip and grapes."

"NO! Miracle Whip is just mayo with sugar in it. I said COOL Whip. But there's some other chunks in there besides grapes. I can see nuts and something else."

"My phone says the menu was Grilled Reuben, Chef Salad, Beets, Grapes in a Cloud."

Hick ate it like it was good. I enjoyed the salad, though I used my own blue cheese dressing on it, not the little packet. The Reuben was great. Heated in the oven, the bread toasted up nicely.

Hick was thrilled on Wednesday when he had meat loaf. 

"They give us all three pieces! The mayor was there having lunch, and wanted to meet me since I started working there. So the gal took me over and introduced me. The mayor said she'd been hearing a lot of good things about me, and to let her know if there's anything she can do for me. So I told her the yard needs mowed, and I think the city should do it. And that there's still a limb in the back parking lot that needs cleaned up. And that I have a whole page list of things I want to talk about at our meeting."

"Oh, no! You shouldn't have told her all that now."

"Well. She asked. So I told her."

"Heh, heh! You might get fired now!"

"I don't think so. But if I'm going to do this job, I'm going to do it right. It seems like it hasn't been done right. I guess that guy was just not able to do some of the stuff."

I wonder if that guy could have remembered that his wife never liked beets...

Thursday, April 3, 2025

NEXT! Bargain House Bedroom Progress

Hick sent pictures of the front bedroom of Bargain House on Wednesday. He's been busy with his store and the elderly apartments, but he and Old Buddy finished the trim and put in the light and receptacles.


Hick says there are a couple areas where the paint needs touch-up, but they're not noticeable in the picture. The chair is one that was in the house. Not sure why he set it there. It's not like that's a way to "stage" a bedroom. I can imagine Hick sitting there, telling Old Buddy what to do, heh, heh. The only suggestion I have for this area is that Hick paint the light switch plate and electrical receptable white.


See? This electrical receptacle is white, and goes with the trim. The light fixture looks nice. There's that chair again. Not sure if Hick moved it, or if there were two. Kind of ruins my vision of Hick the taskmaster ordering Old Buddy around, if they each had a chair.

Hick said they also ran the exhaust for the bathroom vent so it goes to the outside. And that next, they are starting on the other bedroom, first by painting the closet. He says it doesn't need much work.

Hick also went by to talk to Realtor about any suggestions for the Double Hovel. Any ways to bring it to the attention of more buyers, or if we should adjust the price. I've always said that her listing did it no favors, and maybe just an updated listing, better describing the properties, might garner more interest. Unfortunately, Realtor was not in her office. Hick had to get to the Senior Center. Not to work, but to eat meat loaf for lunch. Then he was heading over to Illinois to pick up some merchandise for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5).

Wednesday, April 2, 2025

Hick Dives into His New Job

Hick has been doing the duties of his new job. Not that it takes up much time. The old guy showed him what needed to be done. He fixed a couple things brought to his attention, like the lights in the hall. He said he had a meeting to take the expenditures to the city accountant, or some such entity. I don't really listen the whole time he's droning about things that don't interest me much.

Monday evening he got a phone call. I didn't hear to much of it, but it sounded like a problem. So I asked what was going on.

"It was a lady at the Senior Center. She said she turned on her kitchen sink, and the water gushed out all over the floor, and would I come fix it in the morning. I said sure."

"Is she okay? Should you go tonight?"

"No. She said she got it mopped up. She asked me to come in the morning. She said she left the mop right there, in case there's a mess, I can clean it up."

"Will she go somewhere while you're working? I mean, where would she have to go?"

"She's 88 years old. She still drives, though. She'll probably just go downstairs while they're getting lunch ready. She's usually down there by 8:30."

"Was it her faucet? Did it spray the kitchen?"

"No. I think it was probably a bolt that came loose from a pipe under the sink. I'll get it fixed. I'd go at 7:00, but that's probably too early for her. So I told her 8:00."

I'm sure Hick would have gone that evening if it was an emergency, or if the lady had asked. It takes about 20 minutes for him to get there. He wouldn't leave an old lady with water leaking overnight in her kitchen.

Tuesday, April 1, 2025

Less Taxing Than Last Year

You may recall that I started working on our taxes March 20. That was a Wednesday. I got a lot done, and the weather calmed down, and I was able to get to town the next day like normal. By Friday evening, I had Hick's business information entered, everything finished. 
I'd reviewed my returns twice. 

On Saturday, I submitted the tax returns online as usual. I got the email that they'd been received, both federal and state. That was a relief. Done for another year. I usually don't give it another thought. I'm not one of those people who constantly check to see if our refund had been issued yet.

Imagine my surprise on Friday, when doing the weekly balancing of our checking account, when the bank information line said we had a deposit for the amount of the Missouri tax refund! That has to be a record! Submitted on Saturday, refund deposited on Friday! It usually takes a few weeks. And in the past, Missouri has lagged behind the federal refund.

Anyhoo... it's not like we're rolling in dough. We always have the taxes held out up front from any monies we receive, and set our exemptions so that we are more likely to get a refund rather than having to pay. I know that we are just giving the feds interest money by letting them hold out more than necessary. But it prevents a "surprise" tax bill. You never know when we might sell a flip house, or if Hick will have a really good year of SUS2.5 sales.

The Pony was working on taxes Sunday. He called for the amount we had spent on the QuickFlip renovations between buying it, then selling it three weeks later. The Pony got his own paperwork for his portion of the sale at closing. So he had those figures, just not the expenditures. Back at the time of the sale, The Pony looked up info on capital gains. He set aside some of his profit for tax time.

The Pony said his taxes are done, but he's waiting a week to file, so he can look over it again with "fresh eyes" to see if there's something he might have missed. He will be paying again, not getting a refund. But he says it looks like the amount will only be about half of what he planned for.

Poor Genius. He also has to pay. An amount that is near what The Pony made off the QuickFlip. POOR Genius, indeed! That's a terrible problem to have...