Hick Finally Scrubs the Flipping House

Technically, Old Buddy scrubbed the flipping house, under the direction of Hick. We had a couple days of warmer weather, so on Tuesday, Hick loaded up his power washer and got the job done.

The north side of Bargain House looked like this:

Such a nice bright day for washing a house. But the sky soon clouded up.

There's Old Buddy, earning his cash. He's the muscle to Hick's brains.

Looks like a NEW (used) HOUSE! I imagine on a sunny day, it will look even better.

Still waiting on the kitchen ceiling guy to finish the swirls, then painting. After that, Hick will put down the flooring, and move the stove and refrigerator in. He says there are a couple things that need to be done in the basement. And he wants to trim the bushes around the front porch, and do some structural work on it. The shower door for the small bathroom is on. Hick had to take up the shower base to attach it right, so he lost a half-day of work on that task.

Hick thinks Bargain House should be ready to list sometime in January. We'll see...

Who Ya Gonna Call? Hick Thevictorian!

Hick was working at Bargain House on Tuesday afternoon when he got a phone call from one of his elderlies at the senior apartments. She was quite frantic, telling him the building was on fire! Hick told her to hang up and CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! He dropped everything, and headed to the apartments. It's only about two miles from Bargain House.

Hick had calls from three other elderlies, also telling him he needed to get over there, because the building was on fire. His friend who runs the meal part of the operation was also trying to call him. He answered, but told her he was on the way, and couldn't talk. He felt bad for brushing her off, and later called to apologize for being so abrupt.

What Hick discovered when the whole debacle was over did not please him.

"I could tell right when I walked in that it was cigarette smoke. The building was never on fire, it just filled with smoke that went up the stairwell. They had fire departments from 30 miles away there helping them. The fire chief made me so mad I was about to poke him in the nose! He started in on me, saying there should be no smoking in the building. There's not! That's a rule. And nobody was smoking in the building. There's this one gal who takes a 3-pound coffee can out with her to put her cigarette butts in, so she don't throw 'em on the ground. [Yes, she has called a couple times from locking herself out!] She swore her cigarette was out, but I think it wasn't, and set all them other butts on fire. The can had been about half full. She sets it inside the door when she comes in, and takes it out with her the next time she goes out to smoke. Anyway, that can was empty, because all the butts burnt up.

The apartment people was standin' out front, on the sidewalk. I tell them that's what to do. The people who live in the front of the building should go down the front stairs and wait outside for the fire department. The people who live in the back should go down the back stairs, and wait in the back parking lot. Since there was smoke in the back stairwell, they went out the front. That's what you would expect them to do. The county ambulance people took 'em to the library so they wasn't out in the cold. They got everybody out except one gal who was in the shower! 

The firemen were going door to door. There was no fire, but they needed to search every room for people or where the fire might have been. They couldn't get in her door. I unlocked it, but she had the chain on, so I knocked it off. But I wouldn't go in. I told the lady paramedic, 'You can go get her. I ain't goin' in while she's in the shower!'

This is what burns me up! [Unfortunate choice of words, Hick!] Those firemen didn't have no plan at all. They kept goin' in the same apartments. When something happens like that, like a disaster, you put a mark on the door to show that you've searched that one. Another problem is, the alarm only sounds IN THE BUILDING, and doesn't notify the fire department! Like at a school, if the fire alarm goes off, it automatically notifies the fire department. The chief started on me about that, and I said, 'You've been in charge of the safety of this building for YEARS! Shouldn't you have had some drills, and known about that and got it fixed?' It's a problem I inherited from the last guy, along with all different locks on the closets and other rooms. I'll take the hit for the locks. I've been meaning to get them all changed, so a master key unlocks them all. 

Also, all the fire trucks were parked out front on the street. Not a one in the back. The majority of the apartments are in the back. How would they fight a REAL fire with all their trucks in the front? There's no way to run a hose around the building.

Then the chief said 'You can't keep trash in the building.' We don't keep trash. I explained that's the trash room. The trash chute leads to there! And it gets taken out every other day. AND none of them could get into the lock box for the key! After the mayor assured me at that meeting when I first put it in. She said she'd let the fire chief know. I'm gonna have my boss get us a meeting with the fire chief. So we're both there, and maybe he can get this stuff sorted out. The fire chief don't wanna listen to me. Me and Old Buddy found the can of the burned cigarette butts. The fire chief didn't want to believe that was it, but then he did an interview with the paper, and said he found the can for cigarette butts, which caused all the smoke. He didn't find nothin'!"

So... there was a "fire" at the senior center. Everybody is fine. There are communication problems with the fire department. Hick is doing his best to keep the elderlies safe, and feels like he's not being heard by the fire chief.

At least the evacuation was a success. It was the best case scenario for what could have been a tragedy.

__________________________________________________________________

Let the record show that Hick is not just talking out his rumpus about fire department procedures. He used to be on the volunteer fire department, went to training, and fought many a fire. He's not wanting to tell the fire chief how to do his job. Only to see that normal policies are followed when it concerns the elderlies' apartment building. I imagine the fire chief is looking for a way to keep this (or worse) from happening, and pointing out obvious ways to prevent a possible fire. Everybody is on edge in an emergency. It's not the time for diplomacy.

__________________________________________________________________

A Brief Update on Bargain House

Very brief! Just a picture of the handles Hick put on the upper cabinets.

I like the black handles, and the shape. It might look nicer without the tools on the counter, heh, heh! Also, Hick has the window completely trimmed and painted. The blue above the cabinets will also be painted with the ceiling. It's just the drywall right now.

I'm pretty sure Hick will be putting handles on the lower cabinets as well. But there was a bit of an emergency during this work session...

I Dare You to BAH HUMBUG This

Hick played Santa again on Tuesday. This time it was for 6-9 year old special needs kids from a school two districts over. The venue was over in Bill-Paying Town, not at a school Hick usually visits.

"I'm a little nervous about going to a place I haven't been. I don't know what kind of room they'll have for me to change. And I'm not driving over there wearing my suit."

"I guess at least there will be a bathroom."

"Yeah, but I don't want to put on my suit in a bathroom! You don't what it'll be like."

I never heard about the changing room, but Hick had a good time.

They really had a nice set-up for Hick. He might look like a fake figure here, but I guarantee you it's Hick. Let's zoom in...

That's our guy! Hick cleans up pretty well. He said there were 70-something kids.

"They lost one little boy! Looked all over for him, and found him sitting in a corner. I guess he didn't like all the activity. He come in wearing headphones. They all came up to talk to me and get a present. But I run out! Only on the last three. I still had a couple of things in my bag. But the last little girl didn't want it. She took the rest of my candy canes, and was happy with 'em.

After it was over, I was walking out, wheeling my suitcase with my suit in it. A little girl come up and said, 'Hi. What's in your suitcase?' I told her I was going on a trip. She said, 'Santa was here!' And I said, 'REALLY? I wonder where he is,' and I looked around. She didn't have no idea it was me."

Santa was rewarded with a gift card for our local catfish restaurant, where the teacher who arranged this used to work as a waitress while going to school for a teaching degree. No cookies and milk for OUR Santa! He loves catfish.

Savory Smells, Savory Smells, It's Chex Mix Time, in the Country

Time is running tight! I must get the annual Christmas Chex Mix ready for gifting! It's a big production. One batch takes 2.5 hours to complete. I need FOUR batches! I have 24 containers to fill.

The Pony agreed to be my hands and knees, to help with the Chex Mix this year. Last year we did a batch together. Somewhat of an apprentice situation. It's not a complicated process, once you grasp the layering and amounts of the ingredients. It's a tedious process. Chex Mix must be stirred every 15 minutes, for two hours. My knees do not like that part. With The Pony to trot to the stove, and pull out and return the three pans, I have it easy.

This might be the first stirring. I can tell that the Worcestershire Sauce has already been added, and some Corn Chex and pecans have worked their way to the top. If I had just combined the mixture, the top would be a layer of Rice Chex.

There's the first container. Pay no mind to the Pony toes. Mmm. I can practially smell it! The Chex Mix, not the toes!

This is the end of the second batch. I can tell by the color of the container. Notice my dipping tool? It's a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bowl. I'm not sure where we got it. That was back when HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) and The (little future) Veteran were kids. I don't think the bowls came in a cereal box. They're pretty sturdy. Of course they were used to eat cereal. We only have two. The purple mask (my favorite) and the orange mask. I used to know their names. Anyhoo... this is my traditional Chex Mix dipper. The Pony even asked where it was, while gathering my materials.

We had a good day. Got started about 12:30, and were done by 6:00. Of course, there was a delay midway, because I had to wash and dry my three pans before building the second batch. The Pony was given two (smaller) containers to take home. We all had a tiny sample. Even Hick!

Chex Mix really makes our hillbilly mansion smell like Christmas.

It's a Before-Christmas Miracle!

What in the Not-Heaven??? I was shocked on Sunday night to hear Hick say that he was NOT going to look at the trailer on Monday. You know what THAT meant! REUBEN, baby! Val was getting a Reuben Sandwich on Monday!

Oh, don't go thinking that Hick did this out of his undying love for Val. That would be a bit of a stretch, and a considerable sacrifice. Nope. Hick was doing it because he wanted time to pick up his FREE chairs from the former dentist. Not dentist chairs. What could Hick possibly do with those? Besides build a dentist-themed shed. Like he built a barbershop shed to house the two barber chairs he acquired. No, Shackytown Boulevard will not be adding a dentist shed. These are waiting room chairs. I'm sure Hick will find a way to trade them for something.

But getting back to MY REUBEN...

It looks like "Hick's Gals" didn't go all-out this time. Obviously they are not going to load up a take-out for Hick's wife the same way they would for Hick. 

I set the soup "bowl" in there for perspective. It's broccoli cheddar soup. Looks like those kitchen gals didn't want any elderlies ruining their appetite for the Reuben. That's about a half cup of soup. The slaw definitely was not over-filled, either!

Sometimes I reap the benefits of being Hick-adjacent. This day, I did not. Hick is going Reubenless! Not such a big deal, since he DID eat one for lunch. Oh, and he'll get my dessert:

That's mini blueberry muffins. Not Lemon Cake as listed on the menu. Hick said he had "Birthday Cake," which was white cake with white icing with red on it. I suspected my muffins came from the bakery table at Country Mart. Hick thinks his cake did, too.

Don't you worry about Hick going hungry. He's just saving his appetite for the supper I made him Sunday night: Six Can Chicken and Dumplings! Hick LOVES this stuff. As he said, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth as he carried a heaping bowl to the living room: "It's even better the next day, because all the juice is soaked up!"

That's the container I took out of FRIG II. So they're cold in this photo.

Hick. The man who doesn't like "juice." Let the record show that there is very little, if any, juice in this concoction the minute it is done. You can't pour it. It's gloppy from the start. Hick has plenty left for a few days.

I know I've put my "recipe" here before, but I'll do it again. Somebody might want a rib-sticking meal during the frigid weather. I actually made Hick EIGHT Can Chicken and Dumplings. Because he's such a carnivore that I added two extra cans of white meat chicken. I always drain the liquid out of the chicken, and rinse it in the can. I don't like the chemical taste of canned chicken!

2 cans chicken broth

2 cans cream of chicken soup

2 cans white meat chicken

8 large flour tortillas, cut into dumpling size

half a tablespoon of minced garlic

ground black pepper

Bring the liquids to a boil. Add the cut-up tortillas. Boil for exactly 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat, stir in the chicken, and serve.

I like these lazy-woman's chicken and dumplings just fine, but I generally leave them for Hick. Gotta say, when I licked the spoon, it was pretty good.

Oh, the REUBENity!

Monday is Reuben Day at the Senior Center. They can't fool Val, even if they DO list it under Broccoli Cheddar Soup these days. Reuben Sandwich is clearly on the menu for Monday, along with the soup, and SLAW, and Lemon Cake.

Val won't be getting a Reuben. 

I have that feeling in my bones. Hick hasn't said as much. I HAVE told him for a few days in a row that Reuben is on the Monday menu. He has merely nodded. Which is not a good sign. Especially after he mentioned Sunday morning that he had some chairs to pick up on Monday morning.

"That dentist who is giving away all the chairs is letting me get them Monday morning. I'll find some way to use them. Then if I can get away by 10:00 or 11:00, I'll have time to drive up and look at that trailer, and get back without going through rush hour traffic."

That right there is the nail in Reuben's coffin.

Hick will be too busy wheeling and dealing and (possibly) trailer-buying to have lunch at the Senior Center and bring me a Reuben. 

The Universe is as sly as Mr. Grinch. Everything happens on Reuben Day.

Where There's Smoke, There's a Worried Val

I pulled into The Pony's driveway on Thursday, to pick up my little companion for Errand Day. Smoke was billowing around the back of the house! I tried not to jump to conclusions. No way could I run inside and carry The Pony out on my shoulders. I can barely carry myself from T-Hoe to convenience store.

Maybe The Pony was sitting in the Rogue, waiting for me, and had started up the engine. It was 37 degrees. Yeah. That must be it. Car exhaust in the cold air. But no. That car wasn't running. Nobody inside. The smoke came from the other side of The Pony's house. The kitchen side, next to the neighbors.

Well. Perhaps The Pony was doing laundry. I don't know where the dryer vent is, but my own dryer makes that billowy white smoke during the winter. That must be it. Heat from the dryer, condensing in the cold air. 

The Pony came trotting out. Whew!

"Is your house on fire?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Are you doing laundry?"

"Nope."

"What's all that smoke! Look at it!"

"Huh. I did not know it was doing that. But don't worry. It's probably just the sewer. The city sent out a notice. They're doing a smoke test of the sewers over three days. This is the middle day. I don't have any smoke coming up in my house. So I figure everything at my end must be okay."

When I backed out and then turned onto the street in front of The Pony's house, we saw a crew with two or three city trucks several houses away. So I believed that was the source of the smoke. I asked Hick the next day about why they would be doing that.

"Is it to see if the sewer is blocked? Or if any smoke goes up into houses? Should all that smoke have been pouring out beside The Pony's house, there by the kitchen?"

"That's where The Pony's sewer vent is. The smoke could have been coming out there. The trap keeps it from going into the house. So that's working. I don't know why they would be doing a test. Maybe to see if the smoke comes out of the storm drains. Drain water is not supposed to mix with sewer water. According to the EPA."

The more you know... the less you worry about The Pony's house burning down at the first sign of smoke.

Some Flipping Trivialities

Hick took a small break from flipping and selling on Friday morning, to drive me to an annual doctor (Nurse Practitioner) appointment. Don't you worry about Hick losing any sales. His son, The Veteran, sat in the shop to handle any customers. Of course Hick drove (20 miles) down there to open up at 6:30. Then came home at 8:00 to take me to the 9:00 appointment. We were back home at 10:00. It's a big help for me, having Hick drop me off at the door.

Hick said on his way back to his SUS2.5, he was stopping by Bargain House to turn on a fan in the kitchen. It was to help the ceiling dry faster. Hick hired a buddy for $150 to put up plywood and drywall to patch the hole in the kitchen ceiling. Hick and Old Buddy usually do this themselves. But this buddy does it for a living. Included in the price is making the swirls on that section match the swirls on the existing ceiling. The buddy said that is no problem, he does it all the time. Hick said he figures this way is cheaper than paying Old Buddy $15 an hour for his efforts, and the finished ceiling will be better.

When Hick ordered the two pieces of silver backsplash needed to finish the job, he assumed they would be shipped to the Lowe's store, and he'd pick them up like usual things he orders. He found out Thursday, by email, that those two pieces will be shipped directly to our address. 

"That will take extra time, because it won't fit in the mailbox or parcel lockers. We'll get a notice, and I'll have to pick them up at the post office the next day. They're 18 inches by 24 inches."

"I don't think so. I bet Lowe's doesn't use the USPS. I bet they use FedEx. Or UPS."

Indeed, when checking the tracking during my appointment, Hick discovered that his backsplash is coming by FedEx.

I haven't heard anything about the backordered cabinet handles. Hick got the sale price, but I don't know where they will be shipped. The gray flooring (for the FLOOR) should be delivered to the store on Tuesday.

This upcoming week will have three days with temps in the 50s. So hopefully Hick will use that opportunity to power wash the side of Bargain House.

Also, Hick talked to the city building inspector about Cheap House. The city had given the original owner a short window of time to clean up the property (even though I don't think it looks bad at all). Hick explained how the closing has been delayed. The building inspector told Hick that until he actually takes possession, he is not responsible for that property. That the city will give a little extra time, considering this situation. And then notify the financial institution that is going to foreclose, and they, or the original owner, will have to go board up the windows and secure the property so it's not an eyesore or a hazard.

Hick has an appointment on Monday to look at another trailer. The destroyed trailer is sitting in the BARn field. If Hick takes a picture, I'll share it. He was able to save ONE of the new tires on it. Possibly another one, which he thinks only popped off the rim. 

Hick Shops for Backsplash, and SHINY!

Since nobody liked the gray flooring alongside the gray patterned countertop, Hick went shopping for other backsplash options for Bargain House. Apparently, Hick is easily distracted by SHINY things, and came back with this on Sunday:

"How do you like this seems will line up." I liked it just fine. So on Monday, Hick fastened it into place.

"Two pieces on rest tomorrow." I asked if he was going to put it around the window. "Window gets trimmed so maybe above the window."

Wednesday, Hick put the counter and sink in place, and trimmed the window.

"Sink and counter setting in place got to put the corner in." Hick is short two pieces of the backsplash. He went to Lowe's for more, and it is out of stock, so he ordered it. Also, he wanted to get some handles for the cabinets. They were on sale. But out of stock! Hick ordered them, too. They are black, long handles, not knobs.

Hick is at a standstill until his materials come in. Supposedly on Monday. He will be putting down that gray flooring, but not until Old Buddy is done painting, and with the ceiling. Just about all that remains will be painting the door, and getting under the house to hook up the sink pipes. And power-washing the side of the house, once the temperature is above freezing for a day or two. Oh, and putting on the door for the shower in the small bathroom, which Hick had to order.

Bargain House nears completion!

Val's Gut Might Have Been Right

Try to remember that time in September, when Hick and The Pony were all hyped up to buy Cheap House. When the 2/3 partnership ruled, and Val was outvoted. It's a nice little house in a nice little neighborhood, over by the School-Turn Casey's. It's pretty close to Bargain House. The problem is that it's a junked-up house in ill repair on the inside, though structurally sound. The biggest problem is that I'm concerned about the sellers. 

Cheap House was about to be a foreclosure. Hick got a tip from a Loan Officer, saying it wasn't quite ready yet. When he drove by to look at it, the lady who was selling it (for a relative) was there, and let Hick inside. She told Hick the amount owed on the house. They forged a deal. Off the books, Hick would pay her a little bonus for her help, as long as he could have the contents of the shed in the back yard. She could have anything she wanted inside the house. The bonus plus Hick's offer were a bit less than the amount owed to the loan company. Hick's offer was accepted on September 18th. So we got a good deal.

Well. We MIGHT get a good deal. We're still waiting for a closing date!!!

The loan company sent information to a title company to start the paperwork for the closing. Hick called both places over the past couple months, seeking info on when we could close. Supposedly they were tying up loose ends, getting The Lady to sign some paperwork. I again told Hick that I didn't have a good feeling about this deal. It shouldn't take so long. My original concern is still in effect: The Lady's relative might not want to sell, despite giving her power of attorney to do the deal. 

Hick said that wouldn't happen. But he was already wrong on one item, in that the relative is roaming freely among us, when originally that was not the case. Anyhoo... Hick said he told the title company that he wanted a complete title search, and title insurance.

The closing was finally scheduled for Tuesday, December 9th. Hick got that date when he called last week. But no time. He emphasized that he would need the amount, to go by the bank for a check. Yet there was no contact. Monday, the day before the mystery-o'clock closing, Hick called the Loan Officer to find out what was going on with the title company, since nobody was telling him anything.

There are two judgments against the property. To a total of around $7000. This was discovered during the title search for our title insurance. The loan company had no idea. The wait is for The Lady to sign paperwork with a financial institution to take care of that $7000.

Val's gut knows its stuff! If a Cheap House seems too good to true, it most likely IS. Hick says it won't be a problem, even if some other lien comes up after our purchase. That the title company will be on the hook for that. It's what title insurance is for. Without it, we would have to pay the judgment, or we couldn't resell the house. 

I hope Hick knows title insurance better than trailer insurance...

The Big Bad Wolf Bear

Hick played Santa on Saturday, for a local preschool group. He does it every year, taking little gifts to hand out to the kids. Nothing extravagant. He usually spends around $100 on them. Toys suitable for that age, which he takes in a bag, pulls the bag in a wagon, then dumps the toys in. The kids line up, and get to talk to Santa, then choose a toy from the wagon. 

Hick bought his toys this year. He left them out in SilverRedO, so I didn't see what he got. He just transferred them to his bag in A-Cad before going to the event. He DID have two boxes of toys that he was sorting through on the couch. One of them worried me.

"Are you giving those toys to the kids?"

"Yeah. My buddy gave them to me, for free, to hand out. He's been helping clean out his mother's house, and they're toys nobody needs now."

"I can understand those little action figures. But that big one? That WOLF??? It will scare those kids to death!"

"Wolf? There ain't no wolf. Oh, you mean the BEAR. Somebody'll want it."

"I don't know. They're just little kids. It might give them nightmares! Look at its face!"

"It'll be fine, Val. I guarantee you some kid will want that bear."

The Wolf Bear was at least 18 inches tall. It wasn't a fluffy stuffed toy. Just a resin figure you might set in a shelf. The expression was fierce.

MARK YOU CALENDAR! Val was WRONG! But even worse... Hick was RIGHT!

Hick was thrilled to tell me about the Wolf Bear.

"There was this one little girl, about 3. She went over to my wagon, and picked up that bear. Her mom and dad said, 'Are you sure that's what you want?' And she nodded her head and wrapped both arms around that bear, and wouldn't put it down. She carried it the whole time. She LOVED that bear."

Val stands corrected.

Hick Takes It on the Chin After a Chomp to His Rumpus

Hick's penchant for lending out his "toys" has come back to bite him on the rumpus. He has been waiting to hear from The Buddy about what insurance says concerning his wrecked trailer. Meanwhile, Hick did a little investigating and calling around on his own. He was wrong about insurance coverage on a trailer.

The only insurance Hick's trailer had was liability insurance. That was automatic, with the insurance on the pulling vehicle. All these years, Hick had assumed that a trailer is covered like the vehicle. Nope. It takes a separate insurance policy, just like a vehicle. You can bet Hick will do that with his NEXT trailer. If he ever gets one.

"That lady dealing with The Buddy's insurance from the truck rental called me back this morning. Right after I sent her a nasty email. She said that my trailer won't be covered, which I figured out by now. But she also said they ain't done nothin' with the claim yet because they don't have nothin' from The Buddy! A relative of his was handling all this, and ain't turned nothin' in! Not even the police report from the accident! So this insurance cain't do nothin'. I think he's using his regular insurance. Anyway, he's just gonna hafta buy me another trailer. There's no way around it."

"We can afford to buy you a trailer. He can make payments. Even if it's just a little bit a week. So he won't feel bad, and you can get paid back. There's no need to go without a trailer. You NEED a trailer. Just stop loaning it!"

"I'll have to look for one and see if I can get a deal. It's a 16-foot double axle dovetail trailer. I got my first one from a guy where I used to work, for $500. It'll be a lot more now!"

"You'll have to look around for a used one."

"I'm having the wrecked trailer hauled out here, so I can get my tires off it. I just put on 4 new tires this summer. It's gonna cost me $285 for the tow. I'll tell The Buddy he can junk the rest of the trailer. Sell it for scrap. Then he'll have a little bit of the money to start paying me back."

Being a nice guy is kind of expensive...

Val Attempts an Enabling

It's no secret that Hick likes a bargain. The best bargains are FREE! Anytime I see something that might interest Hick, I go out of my way to let him know.

I went to The Pony's house on Saturday, and saw something Hickworthy on the side street that is often torn up with water leaks. It's paved over again now, but still bumpy. Anyhoo... sitting on the curb across the street from The Pony's garage was 

A SMALL CHEST FREEZER!

It even had FREE written on the front with a black marker. I figured Hick might want to know. Granted, this could be a broken freezer that somebody wanted to get rid of, without paying to take it to the landfill. Then again, it might work, and the people needed room for a newer freezer, or another appliance, or maybe they were remodeling and it didn't fit. I pushed aside thoughts (from watching too many How to Murder Your Wife shows) that this FREE freezer might contain dismembered body parts.

Anyhoo... Hick was working at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). I sent a text.

"Free little freezer on Pony's side street."

"Ok might go by and see"

"Across from the garage."

There. My responsibility was over. Hick could go look at it on his way home. If it wasn't there, at least he knew where it HAD been, and could surmise that somebody else got it first.

We don't need a little freezer. We have one in the laundry room. I thought Hick might want it to sell. I'm sure he could get $5 out of it, heh, heh. Or he might give it to a buddy to sell. If it didn't work, Hick knows a lot about machines and motors, and could probably figure out if it was worth fixing. Or somebody might want to practice working on it.

After all my good-deediness, Hick decided not to drive by and look at it. He was driving A-Cad, since he'd played Santa that day. Not sure why Santa can't drive SilverRedO, but he always takes the car instead of the truck on those days. The freezer would probably have fit in A-Cad's rear, unless Hick had it already full of other "treasures." 

This is the second of my offerings that Hick has turned down, the other being that wooden bed headboard. If he's not careful, my hoarder-enabling behavior might taper off to nothing, due to lack of rewards. I took Intro to Psychology!

The Different Creepiness Continues

It's The Universe's world. Val just tries to live in it. Minding her own beeswax, not rocking any boats, asking for little more than a drive-able T-Hoe, daily scratchers, and a Reuben sandwich once a month. The Universe is such a merry prankster. Always reminding Val that the laws of physics, much like traffic lights and road lines, are just suggestions.

A couple weeks ago, we had the strange incident of the (fake) dog on the steps. It remains unexplained. And now there's been another anomaly that smacks of practical-jokerism!

Friday afternoon, I started out to the garage. The fake dog was sitting where he belonged, beside the top of the steps. But another item blocked my way!

What in the NOT-HEAVEN??? It's a jug! I don't know where it came from. I don't know how it got there. Hick denies responsibility. WHO PUT A JUG ON MY SIDEWALK?

Pay no attention to the spectre in the window. That's just my reflection, not an actual ghost inside the garage, trying to capture Val's expression of surprise and fear (and possibly her soul).

I asked my little dog Jack where that jug came from. He offered no explanation. I picked it up and set it on the shelf against the garage. The jug had some frozen water in the bottom. That's called ice, if we're going by the regular laws of physics. The jug was about 1/6 full of ice.

Another strange thing had happened just before I left. I was out of the shower, lotioning my legs, when I heard the sound of a 4-wheeler or truck revving its engine. Sounded like it was in the front yard, just on the other side of the bathroom wall. Or maybe on Shackytown Boulevard. Jack wasn't barking. So I thought maybe it was just a noisy vehicle up on the gravel road. Then I saw the jug about 10 minutes later.

Oh, but wait. That's not all. When I came home two hours later, something was different inside the house. I didn't hear the TV. I always leave it on, to discourage burglars. You know how they fear TVs! I went through the kitchen to the living room, and saw that the TV screen was black. The green POWER light was off. But the power to the DISH box was on. When I turned on TV power, the show started playing. The DISH receiver was fine. Back in the kitchen, the microwave clock was working. So there hadn't been a power outage or even a quick flicker. That microwave clock is our most sensitive electronical gadget.

When Hick came home, he denied placing the jug on the sidewalk.

"I don't know where it came from. It's the jug I used to carry water to the dog we tried to adopt. Last I knew, it was in the garage. But maybe it was up on the shelf on the porch. I guess it coulda blowed off."

Well. It didn't on those days when we had 30 mph winds. And this day the wind was 5 mph. I suppose it could have landed right-side-up if it fell off the shelf, due to the ice frozen in the bottom. Maybe the out-of-control giant squirrels could have done it, even though you'd think it would have happened already in the months it might have been sitting there.

No sign of anybody being inside the house. HIPPIE was still on the kitchen table just inside the door. Hick said the TV goes off if it's on too long. No siree, Bob! That's the DISH receiver that will go off after three hours, if you don't change the channel. And it has a logo on the screen.

The best I can hope for, to prevent freaking out about a possible stalker, is that squirrels put the jug on the sidewalk, and our dormant poltergeist is again active, messing with the TV power...

A Hick Dilemma

The Bargain House kitchen is starting to look like a kitchen. Hick sent several updates.

"Got top of cabinets boxed in." I asked what he planned to do with the ceiling, and Hick said, "I have a trim board, then paint." When we bought the house, there was a piece of plywood nailed over the ceiling above the kitchen sink. When Hick and Old Buddy took it down, it was just a hole in the ceiling. Hick thinks he can recreate those swirls by using a wallpaper brush. He took one over there to see if it's the right size. If it doesn't work out, they will have to put up drywall for the whole ceiling.

That little piece of decorative trim hiding the sink light is the only original thing left from the kitchen. Hick wanted to include it.

The lower cabinets are set in place. Here's a look at the countertop. Of course that's not where it will stay. The sink will go under the window. Hick was trying to see how the countertop would look with the backsplash he plans to make out of flooring. 

HICK IS RECONSIDERING! 

Not the idea of using flooring. But the specific flooring he had on hand. Thank goodness he sent me a picture Thursday morning!

"Before I nail it all do you like the wood behind the counter?"

This was too important for a text! I called right away. "No. That doesn't look good together. The colors are too similar, yet different. Same with the patterns. No. Don't use that."

Hick agreed that it doesn't look quite right. He checked on some other stuff. Found something metallic, and brought back samples of gold and silver to see how they compare. I suggested the flooring that looks like tile. Just plain, like slate. Whatever he picks, Hick thinks he might also use it on the top of the cabinets where he boxed them in, for contrast. He's not sure of the actual flooring for the floor yet.

The Earnestness of Being Important

If Val is involved in a wrong, she must right it! That's how she was raised. Fair is fair, and no good comes of "getting away with wrong." Even if it's unintentional.

Wednesday afternoon, I was in a bit of a hurry when buying my scratchers. On Wednesdays, Hick and I watch Survivor, which comes on at 7:00. I wanted time to get home and scratch my tickets before the show. There's always something that sidetracks me, and takes up more time than I'd planned. Perhaps a call to The Pony, or supper for Hick, or something that arrives in the mail that needs attention.

I arrived at the Gas Station Chicken store with plenty of time in my "schedule." It was not busy. I parked in my rightful handicap space and went inside. The regular clerk was on her break, and Man Owner was running the register. I was the only customer inside. 

Man Owner is slower than the regular clerks. He's the OWNER, you know. Not expected to be quick at ringing people up. Being the owner, he is very thorough. He scanned my winners. Stapled them together. Printed out the draw ticket that I buy every day for The Pony, a $3 Cash4Life with Easy Match. I chose my scratchers. Man Owner rang them up and gave me my $2 change. I held the two bills on top of my scratchers as I walked to the car. No need to take in a purse, or fiddle with folding them and stuffing them in my pocket. I can do that once I get back to T-Hoe.

The sun was blazing in the passenger side of the windshield, right into my eyes. I let my tickets lie on the console while I drove over to 10Box to get more crossword tickets from their two machines. After parking, I wrote the GSCS on the back of those tickets before going in. I always like to know where a winner comes from. It affects what I buy the next day.

Anyhoo... as I was folding those two ones to put in my shirt pocket, they felt thick. I looked. Turned them over. There were two new bills stuck together, and then another one. Man Owner had given me THREE ones, when I was only entitled to TWO. 

Well. No way was I going to cheat Man Owner! I've been going there for years. He's a nice guy. Would the loss of a dollar put him in the poorhouse? No. It was the principle! You don't take money that's not yours! Even if somebody gave it to you by accident. The drawer would come up short, and that clerk would get blamed for it.

Right then I knew I was going back to return that dollar. Just as soon as I dashed in 10Box for my crosswords. I figured Man Owner would be off the register by then, but I could explain to the clerk. She could put it in the register, and it would be off my conscience.

Of course we're talking about Val's World. Where The Universe holds sway over her every interaction. When I drove onto the parking lot, there were five cars at the gas pumps. A handicap plater in my rightful handicap space. A car in the FREE AIR parking space, with one behind it waiting for the hose. I decided to drive through, out the back alley, and up to the roundabout a mile away. When I came back, they'd probably be cleared out.

Do you hear The Universe snickering? A white dump truck parked by the moat chose that moment to pull out and head for the back alley. I slammed on T-Hoe's (newly replaced) brakes and avoided being sideswiped. I guess that driver doesn't know why those giant vehicles have side mirrors. He's lucky I had on sunglasses, and my passenger-side visor pulled down, or I may not have seen him in the glare.

Anyhoo... I proceeded to the back alley, and turned toward the roundabout. The Universe was wheeze-laughing like Muttly. It was the end of shift for the can opener factory, and cars were pouring out of their lot. I knew that if I came back from the roundabout, I'd be caught in it for three or four stoplight cycles. So I went through that roundabout, and towards home through the second roundabout, and past Mick the Mechanic's shop, then back into town.

My rightful handicap space was available. Only a couple cars were at the pumps. One truck at the diesel pumps on the side. I clutched that crisp dollar and went inside. OH NO! There were SIX customers waiting. More people than that, but some were together. I hate being in that small store with so many people! But I HAD to give back that dollar, and I'd already hobbled inside. So I stood.

There are only three (narrow) aisles. Two were clogged with waiters. I made note of the guy in a gray sweatshirt and trucker cap who had entered just ahead of me. It would be my turn after his. He eventually squeezed back to the end of one line. I didn't try to follow. Just stood as out of the way as I could, against the wall by the front door.

A couple other guys came up that aisle and got in line behind sweatshirt guy. I know they saw me standing there waiting, because the first one met eyes with me. It was a real sausagefest in there. Me and a bunch of workingmen in their painter pants with assorted stains, talking about drywall and freelancing. A congenial bunch. But still, a bunch.

After sweatshirt guy paid for gas and a scratcher, the guy behind him motioned me ahead. I thanked him, even though we both knew I was next. It never hurts to be polite, or at least perceived as such.

"I'm just here to return this dollar. It was stuck together when Man Owner gave me my $2 change. I don't want the drawer to come up short, or for Man Owner to get in trouble, heh, heh!" [Woman Owner runs a tight ship!]

"Oh, isn't that sweet!" said the clerk, who sure didn't want her drawer coming up short to the displeasure of Woman Owner.

"Aww, that's a really nice thing to do," said Behind Guy.

Not gonna lie. That made it worth the wait. It made me feel important. I couldn't even be disgruntled over the 30 extra minutes that good deed took me.

Nice Guys Finish Crashed

On Monday, the snow expected here after 8:00 p.m. started shortly before noon. I made it to town and back with no issues, just a bit earlier than I had planned. Hick called to say his auction had been canceled! At least he made his own supper, a ham (leftover) sandwich. I had just frozen the green beans and roasted vegetables and remaining turkey that morning.

Anyhoo... Hick had been at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) that afternoon about his newly-installed heater that wasn't working. Then he went to the courthouse and annex to pay his business taxes and get his business license for 2026. Then by the abstract company to see about the closing on our latest flip that seems to be taking forever to be finalized. When he got home, he said he was running a bath in the big triangle tub, to warm up and jet away the pain in his legs.

While he was in the tub, I heard his phone ringing in the living room. I figured Hick would deal with it when he got out. Apparently, he did not.

Tuesday was frigid, and the snow wasn't melting, so I stayed home. Hick again ran a bath when he arrived. When he got out, he said, "I'm going to call my buddy. Looks like he called last night. I'll see what he wants." 

I couldn't hear the conversation, but this is the guy whose sewer Hick fixed, the 90-degree elbow he replaced with a 45-degree elbow that was actually 135 degrees. He's older than Hick, and not in great health. I could only hear Hick saying, "That's normal. That's what it's SUPPOSED to do! Let me know how it goes." I was worried about The Buddy's health. I asked Hick what was going on.

"Well... I let him borrow my trailer to haul something. And yesterday evening, he had a wreck."

"Oh, no! Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he seems to be all right. But he had rented a truck to pull the trailer. A brand new 2026 with only 3000 miles on it. Now it's wrecked."

"What about your trailer?"

"Oh, it's totaled! I won't be getting my trailer back."

"What is it with you and trailers? Why can't you just have a trailer? Every one you've had has been wrecked by somebody who borrowed it! I guess now you'll have to borrow a trailer to pick up stuff for the flip house."

"I guess so. Anyway, he's all wound up. He kept saying, 'I've got to buy you a trailer!' I told him he doesn't. It's not something we have to deal with today, like he thinks it is!"

"I bet he's been worried to death since last night, when you didn't call him."

"I told him it's okay. I know he don't have the money to buy me a trailer. The reason he needed it was to haul his truck somewhere to get it fixed. So he had to rent that other truck to pull the trailer. He said when he went to pick up the rental truck, they made him buy insurance. I told him they always do that, because all he had was liability insurance. I asked if they knew he'd be using it to pull a trailer, and he said they must have, because THEY gave him the ball to put on it to hook the trailer to. 

I told him that it's understandable that a wreck could happen, in that snow Monday evening. The insurance should cover it. That's what the insurance is for. It should cover my trailer, too. You can't buy insurance like that on just a trailer. The insurance on what's pulling the trailer covers the trailer."

We'll see if Hick gets reimbursed for the value of his trailer. It wasn't a NEW trailer, but it was a big trailer that he used to haul his tractor on, and pick up cabinets and appliances and lumber for the flip houses. And those lawnmower ramps his other buddy told him about.

Hick is not mad at The Buddy. It was an accident, not intentional. It won't affect their friendship. I am still worried about The Buddy. This has to be a lot of stress on him.

The Bad Apple Bobs Up Again

Remember Bad Apple, the elderly from the apartments who cussed Hick and complained about his (cleaned) carpet not being clean enough, took the carpet shampooer and detergent Hick offered to do it himself, then reported Hick to the Better Business Bureau?    

Monday, Bad Apple asked Hick to come up to his apartment. Hick went.

Bad Apple apologized to Hick. Said he didn't know the group (Hick's employer/boss) was a nonprofit organization. He was just mad because Hick wouldn't give him the phone number of who else to complain to.

Hick said, "Nobody wants to talk to you! That's why they hired me. I do that for them."

Bad Apple said, "I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I don't want to move."

Well! I think we have discovered the reason behind his change of heart! The possibility of eviction. And maybe the fact (?) that the BBB doesn't have any authority over nonprofits. I'm not sure of their parameters. But it sounds like that complaint was going nowhere.

Anyhoo... Bad Apple repeated that he was sorry. And asked if maybe Hick could fix his door.

Hick said he would. It needed a drill to put in a new hole so the screw would be flush with the plate thingy the latch goes into. [My words, not Hick's.] 

I told Hick, "Well. That's over with. Until he finds something else to complain about."

Hick agreed.

Hick Is Still on Uppers

After a three-day sojourn from Bargain House renovations, Hick was back at it on Monday. He and Old Buddy put up the remaining upper cabinets. These are on the wall the kitchen shares with the laundry room that is now part of the back entrance to Bargain House.

Hick says the stove, refrigerator, and microwave will fit under these small upper cabinets. He is keeping that door, and giving it a fresh coat of white paint. I like that idea. It's an unusual door, and more interesting than a plain panel door.

I asked Hick's plans for the backsplash, and he said he thought he'd use flooring, like he did at the Double Hovel flip house(s). He thinks he has some of the gray version left in The Pony's garage, and is going by to check on it. I like the thought of the gray with the white cabinets. Hick says he will probably use a different kind for the floor, so as not to be too matchy.

Hopefully, Hick is now off the uppers. The kitchen is actually going faster than I expected.

The Universe Shows No Mercy

Can Val catch a break, please? After all the preparations for Thanksgiving dinner, with the shopping and the cooking and the taxi-ing The Pony here for help, and the cleanup, and the leftover-storing, and leftover-warming, and let's not forget all that DISHWASHING with no dishwasher... you'd think that maybe Val might be rewarded with AT LEAST her usual return on her scratcher tickets. 

BUT NO!

For two days, I've been on a losing streak! LOSING! More than normal losing. On Friday, I won NOTHING! A shut-out! That has not happened for over a year. Saturday was snowy and rainy and freezing, so I stayed home. I had seen the forecast, and had saved some of Friday's scratchers for that day. Also, Hick agreed to bring me six tickets that I specifically requested, and paid for. Only three winners from that day. Not even my usual minimum win percentage.

This is Sunday. I'm going to town. The snow has melted. Sunny for now. Windy and cold. Surely it's time for a big winner. Right? I've even upped The Universe's indebtedness by spending a half hour of my valuable time writing checks for Hick's business taxes and business license. Plus filling out the annoying forms.

I'm not asking for the moon. Just a decent percentage of money back for my scratcher allowance. I wouldn't turn down a big winner, of course. I only want The Universe to be fair.

I guess this is why it's called gambling. Not winning.