Lawns, But Not Forgotten

Hick has not been able to work on the flip houses since his surgery last Thursday. He can't lift over 10 pounds. He doesn't need to be crawling around. So the most that's been done is the mowing of the yards. Hick isn't even supposed to do that. Not supposed to sit on hard surfaces, or get jounced around. He hired HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) to do that chore. In fact, HOS is coming out later to mow our front yard/field.

Anyhoo... Cheap House has not been forgotten. It is SO CLOSE to being finished. Finished enough to sell to another flipper, that is. The last thing Hick wants to do is finish replacing the kitchen floor. He says one day of work will do it. But he can't climb down into the floor joists. He might be able to CLOSELY supervise Old Buddy or HOS into doing what's left. But it's easier to do it himself. We'll see what he chooses. Hick THINKS he will resume yard-mowing next week. He also says now he can lift up to 20 pounds. I think he needs to be cautious.

There's the state of the kitchen floor underneath. Those joists definitely needed replacing. It's a dirty job. But Old Buddy and Hick had to do it.

That's the state of their progress on the day before Hick had his surgery. Basically, they just have to measure and cut some wood and nail it down for the subfloor. That's all Hick plans to do to this flipping flipper. The six weeks of extreme heat really slowed down the work on this house without air conditioning.

Hick is already looking ahead to his next project, which is stripping the plumbing out of Lap House.

Will the Real Pink Flowering Tree Please Stand Up

You may recall that Lap House has a tree in the front yard, with pink flowers. Not a lot of flowers. I don't know my trees or my flowers. The only pink flowering tree I know is a mimosa. Their leaves are distinctive, and the flowers all wispy. My grandma had several mimosas, and this tree is not it!

I went by Lap House for another picture out T-Hoe's window. You can see there are several flowers, but not a lot. It's not like a redbud tree, or a flowering dogwood (our state tree!). You can see that this one has a double trunk.

I tried to get a closeup of some flowers. My phone wasn't very cooperative. But I DID manage to zoom in on this photo to get one particular blossom.

I consulted my estranged BFF Google, and found a link for "45 Pink Flowering Trees (With Pictures): Identification Guide." 

I scrolled and scrolled. I think HIPPIE shut down twice from overheating. And then, on the 45th tree (ain't that always how it goes?) I think I identified this tree!

Pink Flowering Rose of Sharon. Also called Hibiscus syriacas. 

What do you think? It was the single blossom that fished me in. Also, I could see that the trunk(s) and leaves remind me of a shrub. Plus, it is blooming in the summer.

Anyhoo... it's a pleasant-looking tree to have in a front yard.

Hick Has a Bittersweet Interaction With His Harem

Hick was at the senior apartments on Monday, despite his recent operation. He was going to his office when he saw one of his Harem standing in her door.

"It's the 88-year-old woman. She was only wearing a T-shirt, and she was sweeping hair out into the hallway. She cuts her own hair sometimes. She saw me, and she said, 'The first time I saw you, I knew I loved you. You are so nice.'"

"Is she the one who was only wearing her bra while sitting outside sunbathing when it was over 100 degrees?"

"No."

"What else has she done?"

"Nothin'. She's a really nice lady, but she gets confused. Her daughter and son just took her car away from her."

"Maybe that's best. She might be out somewhere and forget how to get home."

"I seen her one day, out by our bank. She was pulling out as I went by. I told her later that I saw her out driving. And she said, 'No you didn't! If you saw someone, it wasn't me. I haven't been out.' Anyway, at lunch she told everybody how she knew she loved me the first time she saw me. She probably won't even remember it tomorrow."

"Wait! Is she the one who took her medicine wrong?"

"Yeah. That's her. She hasn't been doing well lately. I kind of think it's an issue with her medicine, but who am I to say."

"That's sad. It's good that she won't be out driving, though."

Hick is pretty attached to his Harem.

There's Something Phishy Going On

I got a phone call Monday morning around 10:30. It was on my cell phone. The screen said Privte Caller. Normally, I would not answer such a call. But with Hick galivanting about three towns just four days after surgery, I didn't want to take a chance on it being related to something Hick-ish. 

The lady on the phone asked for Hick. First name and last name.

"He's not here."

"This is Someone Somebody with Such-and-Such Bank. I'm calling to talk to Hick about a deal we're working on for him. What is your name?"

"I don't know why you need to know MY name."

"Who am I speaking with? Are you Hick's spouse? Or his mother?"

[What in the NOT-HEAVEN??? Hick's mother has been dead since before I met him. Hick is 72 years old. Do I sound like a woman in her 90s?]

"This is his wife. But there's no reason to give you my name."

"Okay. I was just looking for what to call you instead of Mr. and Mrs. Thevictorian."

[What's wrong with THAT? It seems to be a common practice in the business world.]

"Now, can you tell me Hick's birth date?"

"No. Why would I tell you that? I'm not giving out that information to somebody who calls me."

"Well, I already have it. I was just asking you to verify it, to make sure I'm talking to somebody who has a right to this information."

"There's no way I'm giving you that information. Calls like this are usually scams, and I don't need to tell you anything personal. I don't know of any 'deal' he would be working on with you. Why don't you just call HICK? He has a phone..."

"All right then. You have a good day."

AS IF anybody would give out that kind of stuff to a random caller they never heard of! One who blocks the number they're calling from. If it was an actual business, there's no need to show a Private Caller.

Of course I called Hick, and asked if he was working on some kind of deal with a bank. You never know with his business. But since I take care of all his paperwork, you'd think I would have a clue.

"Nope. I ain't doin' no business with no bank. Nobody's called me."

"If somebody calls, don't give out any information! Heh, heh! She asked if I was your MOTHER!"

"That would be quite a surprise, talking to her!"

"Yeah, I know! There's probably not good reception six feet under. If she really had your birth date, would she have assumed she was talking to your MOM? That's crazy."

So strange, that such a stranger would have MY phone number, and not Hick's, the person she's working on a deal with, and has his birth date...

Green and Purple Plaid Hair

While I was in line at the Gas Station Chicken Store on Thursday afternoon, a young woman came in the door. She had a little girl with her, maybe 6-7 years old. She looked around. At first I thought they came in for the bathrooms at the front by the door. But then she shooed the little girl over to the side of the counter, by the closed register. 

The Lady appeared to be in her late 20s. She started rummaging in her purse, and putting handfuls of coins on the glass counter. I stepped up to do my lottery business while she was counting her coins into stacks. The Lady turned to look at me.

"I love your shirt!"

"Thank you! Green is my favorite color, and I like pastels."

"It's my kind of thing."

That's when I realized that The Lady's hair was a match for my shirt! Her dark hair had wide strands of the green and purple running through it! It actually looked okay.

"Oh, I see what you mean. It matches your hair!"

"Yes! And I love that little purple car out there, too!"

Indeed, there was a matching car out at one of the gas pumps. I finished up my transaction, and The Lady told Fave (my favorite cashier), "I'd like $21.54 of gas on Pump 4."

I had been prepared to offer to pay if The Lady was short on her change. She gave off a good vibe.

It Was Friday. You Know What THAT Means!

Hick was kicked back in my OPC (Old People Chair) on Friday afternoon at 4:25. He's recovering from surgery that he had on Thursday. [That won't be addressed here, but will be on my supersecret blog in a few days.]

The phone rang, and Hick groggily answered.

"Yeah. This is him. Huh. Well, I'll be there Monday. I'm doing okay. It's not a problem. That's all right. Yeah. I'll see you on Monday."

"Let me guess. That was one of your Harem!"

"Yep."

"Of course. It IS Friday evening. That's when they love to call." 

"Seems like it."

"What did this one want?"

"She wanted to tell me that the lady across the hall from her wants the hall sprayed for bugs."

"So SHE'S calling to tell you? For somebody else?"

"You don't understand what they're like. They're all in everybody else's business."

"Which one was this? What has she done? Was it the drinker again?"

"No. This one ain't done nothin'."

"Really? That's hard to believe. She wasn't the door/shoe lady, was she? I've heard that name before."

"Well, yeah. She's the one who called to say her bedroom door wouldn't close, and then I found a shoe stuck in it. And she's also the one who got in a fight with the drinking lady that got her carted off to the county jail."

"I KNEW there was more to it."

"And she also knew I was having surgery yesterday, and wanted to check on me."

"Of course she did. So she can report back to the rest of your Harem that she talked to you."

"It is what it is."

Yes. It's called Hick's Harem being lonely on a Friday night. Knowing they will have to go three long days without seeing him, since he usually only goes to the apartments Monday-Thursday.

A Meeting of the Mines

Hick had his first meeting in the office he built from dividing a storeroom, and furnished with all of HIS stuff from home. Here's a little reminder photo:

The assorted members of the board governing the senior apartments were in agreement that it's a nice office. Something that has been needed for a long time.

"This is much better than meeting in a hallway!"

"This is a great space. If somebody is interested in renting an apartment, you can bring them in here to sit down and discuss it, or do the paperwork."

"Or if somebody from an agency comes by, it's more businesslike to have a place to meet."

Hick said even the mayor (who is definitely no fan of Hick, and thwarts his efforts at every turn), said it was a nice office. "And she brung her grandbaby to the meeting! A toddler!" Because, you know, why would a city mayor show up to a scheduled monthly meeting alone, ready to devote full attention to a non-profit business that leases city property?

Anyhoo... Hick was quite pleased with himself for providing this space, decorated with his many treasures. I'm pretty sure he spent a little time explaining the decorations while waiting for all board members to arrive. I imagine he did a round of the room: "This is MY deer head that I got a good deal on. And these are MY scale models of NASCAR cars. Here are MY license plates that I've collected over the years." 

Hick has always done that. Everything is HIS. He even used to describe our house that way. And our 10 acres and other 10 acres and pretty much everything we own jointly. It's not as if he built everything with his own hands, like the themed sheds on Shackytown Boulevard.

Another Photographer, Another View

Here's another view of the front of Lap House. The Pony took this one, as we drove down the block on Errand Day. I parked across the street by the elderlies apartment building, and The Pony took it out my window.

I am just loving the look of this! Hick says he will probably paint the wooden support posts black. He's not sure of the color, but he won't leave them as bare wood.

I don't know what kind of tree that is on the left, but it has pink flowers on it! Anyhoo... I just wanted to show this view of Lap House, because it never occurs to Hick that he can walk across the street, rather than down to the corner stop sign to get a full picture.

Again, here's a reminder of the "before" shape of Lap House when we bought it:

That tall pipe is gone. Might have been a flue of some kind, for gas heat. And the mailbox hanging on the rail. I'm not sure what Hick will do about that old TV antenna behind the tree. And the roof has been re-shingled.

To me, it looks like a different house!

What a Difference a Paint Makes

Hick hired HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) to paint the base of the porch and the foundation of Lap House. They were going to do it last week, but HOS got sick in the heat, and could not. Funny how Hick told me this when it happened, but he had not yet bought the paint that showed up on the receipt he gave me yesterday. Maybe they had to pre-treat the area, or maybe Hick already had a little of the paint from another job. Anyhoo... HOS was feeling better yesterday, on an even hotter day, and got the job done.

I gotta say, that's a nice-looking front porch! Hick still has to replace the siding at the corner of the house, where he removed it to install the new electrical entrance. Here's a zoom-in so you can see more detail of the porch:

You can see here that the rail is no longer red, white, and blue. I'm not sure if Hick is going to paint or stain those support beams. Looks like a bit of soffit has been added to trim out the porch roof. This looks like a shady place to sit with a beverage and survey the neighborhood. Much better than what it was before.

I'm not sure if Hick will be replacing the two front windows. For sure he is going to put black fake shutters on each side. He says black now, but if the window trim is white, I could see white working just as well.

Now, if we could only get to work on the inside, where nothing has been done save cleaning out the basement to allow for the HVAC installation. And by "we," I mean Hick, Old Buddy, and HOS.

I'm Not Lovin' It

Hick and I really don't speak the same language. He ASSumes I will known certain construction terminology, but I refuse to let him make a rumpus out of me. I have to mount an offensive before he has a chance to declare: "You don't know nothin!"

Hick came in Monday afternoon and started jawing and thrusting money and a receipt at me before I could put down my lucky scratching quarter.

"Here's the receipt from Lowe's. It's got stuff from Lap House and Bargain House. The paint is for Lap House and the screws are for Bargain House. This is money for my stuff that will be on the Lowe's and Menards bill when they come." [It was $1294.00 in cash!]

Then Hick walked off! The receipt was 18 inches long, and he draped it across HIPPIE's keyboard. Only about a third of that receipt had items on it. Usually I don't get a receipt unless Hick uses cash. And the Lowe's statement does not have itemized prices. Only the total for each day's transaction, and a list of merchandise without individual prices.

This means I have to figure out which items went to which flip, and record the costs for each, to use for tax purposes, and to determine our asking price when we are ready to sell the flip houses. Plus, I have to decide which merchandise was for Hick's side jobs like the senior apartments, or his SUS2.5. The latter which also is needed for his business taxes.

"Hey! Wait a minute. Is this receipt for cash you spent? Or the debit card?"

"Nooo. I put it on the Lowe's card."

"So when I get the Lowe's bill, it will have these charges for both flip houses, AND stuff you bought to use for something else?"

"Yeah."

"So you're just giving me the receipt so I will know the price of what went with each house?"

"Yeah."

"How am I supposed to know? I can't tell what you bought! What's a 1/2 CAT OSB SHEATHING? Or what's a LG JAR PWRPRO INT 90X3?"

"I told you the paint is for Lap House, and the screws are for Bargain House!"

"You come back here! Take this receipt. Use a pen, and put an X by stuff belonging to one house, and I'll know the rest is for the other house."

"You always have to make everything so hard!"

Well. I don't think I'M the one making things so hard. I just want to keep accurate records. Hick marked the receipt for me.

Hick even made a key for me at the top, showing that X was for Lap House, and O was for Bargain House. Not to be confused with Hick giving kisses to the first, and hugs to the other! I'm not lovin' this system, but now that I've forced Hick to clarify expenses, I can figure it out when the monthly statement gets here.

I Suppose It's a Job for Somebody Who Is Not a People Person

Remember a couple weeks ago, when I was surrounded by Amazon delivery vans, when I'd never heard of them or seen one before? My package arrived at just the right time, as I was coming up the driveway. That's when I noticed the lack of joy in the deliveryperson.

It's taken me nine days, but I FINALLY realized who that Amazon Driver reminded me of: OTTO, the school bus driver on The Simpsons. He looked exactly like Otto, but with his long bushy black hair pulled back in a neck-nape ponytail.

As I sat in T-Hoe's driver's seat, parked off the driveway in my front yard, I thought Otto might bring that package over to me. That's what I would have done, if I was an Amazon Driver, and a car came up the driveway and pulled off into the yard while I was getting the package out of my van. I'd walk over and ask, "Did you order something?" And hand them the package. Saving myself a walk across the concrete carport, gravel driveway, Hick-laid brick sidewalk, and steps to the porch. Just hand it to the person and be done. I don't think Amazon takes a picture of their delivery like FedEx. I didn't get one.

Anyhoo... Otto glanced at me, then awkwardly, stepping over Jack and dodging Pepper's playful gamboling, walked my small bag of three vitamin bottles to front door and set it down. Walked back to his white Amazon van and got in. Not acknowledging me at all.

As Otto drove past me on the gravel driveway, I gave the lifted-finger wave, and a thank-you nod. Otto wouldn't look at me! He appeared to be silently fuming! His cheeks were flushed. His hair looked extra-wiry. As if I had annoyed him by coming home to see the delivery!

Maybe Otto just does not like his job. More likely, just does not like to work. He was definitely Gen Z. The kind I see out and about sometimes, who would rather slither through a door and let it close on his shirttail rather than give it an extra push for the person on his heels. The thought of actually holding it open for somebody would be as alien as deciphering a rotary phone or an analog clock.

I really wanted Otto to know that I appreciated his delivery, but he was having none of it.

The Pony Was A-Gassed

Thursdays are when T-Hoe gets his weekly allotment of gas. I stop at the Casey's over in Sis-Town during my other errands there, like bank and post office. If The Pony is along for the ride, I can skip the pumping myself, and only have to go in and pre-pay. For the past couple months, we've been having a problem. I first thought it was just the pump I always use, #4. But after having the same thing happen at #3 and #5, we figured it must be T-Hoe himself that's causing the pump to stop every 3-5 seconds.

I told Hick about the issue. The Pony thinks it might be some kind of vent blocked, and that gas or fumes are splashing back and causing the pump to stop. Hick said that MIGHT be right, and he will have to check, but it's not easy, since he will have to take a couple things apart. 

Hick also said that HE has the same problem with SilverRedO. What are the odds that this would happen to both our vehicles at the same time, and at separate Casey's? Hick said one of the pumps at the Backroads Casey's is worse than the other one he always uses.

The Pony did some investigating, and said it COULD be a problem with the pump handles. That if they are old, they sometimes shut off like this. A possible solution was to turn the pump handle sideways, or upside down. That didn't sound like a good idea to me, but The Pony said it might be worth a try. It was NOT!

The Pony was still pumping when I returned to T-Hoe on Thursday. Upon finally finishing, and climbing into the passenger seat, an apology was offered:

"I hope you don't mind the smell of gas on my foot."

"What? I didn't notice. Until NOW! The fumes just got to me."

"It won't be for long. We only have the grocery store left."

"I guess you tried the sideways handle?"

"Actually, I tried the upside down handle. Even though you said not to. And this was my reward. It spilled on my foot and shoe."

The shoe being open-toed Puma slides that I had given The Pony a while back. I made The Pony promise to wash that foot as soon as the groceries got carried in.

"I'll put away my freezer stuff, and leave the rest while I immediately go put this foot and shoe in the bathtub. I think I'll use hand soap, because it will probably foam up better than body wash."

We'll see if The Pony still stinks this week on Errand Day.

The Corpse in the Garage

Our garage it detached. As detached as the retina of that whiny rich dude who got hit in the eye by an olive choked up by Jennifer Love Hewitt at the bar in Heartbreakers. That's one of my favorite movies. If you've never seen it, and like a 2001 ribald comedy and/or Sigourney Weaver, Ray Liotta, and Gene Hackman, you should check it out.

Anyhoo... the weather here has gotten steamy again. I have trouble opening the people-door of the garage. It's just a green metal door with a window in the top half. You should be able to turn the doorknob and pull it open. But no. The wood frame swells up with the humidity. Hick insists on closing that door completely. As if the cars are going to escape. I simply push the door to until it sticks. Then the next day I can pull it open with a slight tug.

Hick keeps the dry dogfood in the garage. The bag is sealed in a big plastic trash can with a lid. I suppose he sometimes drops a nugget or two when dipping the food out to put in the feeder every morning.

Anyhoo... I tried to get in the garage on Friday afternoon. Hick had closed the door. It wouldn't open. I had to set down my purse on the side porch, and grab the handle with both hands. I was afraid that doorknob would come off and send me sprawling backwards onto the sidewalk. It took four tries before I got that door open. I might have dislocated a shoulder momentarily in the process. The dogs were watching with tilted heads.

I picked up my purse and stepped inside. Whoopsie! I almost stepped on something lying just across the threshold. 

A DEAD MOUSE!

He was on his side. Perhaps in a position that mice like to sleep. Yet he wasn't moving. Not a pointy-nosed nasty rat. A fluffy field mouse with big ears. Dead as a doornail. I have no idea what happened to him. He might have been stuck inside the garage, and started to bake from the inside out. It's over 90 degrees in there.

Disposing of dead mice is not part of my skill set. It's not something a VALedictorian needs cluttering up her gray matter. That is Hick's territory. The disposing, I mean. Not the cluttering. I'm sure he would gladly do it for his Harem. So he darn well better do it for me.

The mouse was still there when I got back home. No miraculous resurrection. I stepped over him, and sent Hick a text:

"Dead mouse inside the garage door."

Hick came into the kitchen a half hour later.

"Did you get my text?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Do you know what it said?"

"No. I didn't read it. Here. I'll read it now. Huh. I guess I'll go get it."

When he came back, I didn't ask what he did with the dead mouse. Probably took it by the tail, and flung it as far as he could into the yard, where the dogs would find it later. With a bigger carcass, like a possum, Hick takes it to the end of the driveway, and tosses it into the big sinkhole. Or once he just threw one over the barbed wire fence into the thicket of brush of our neighbor.

"WASH YOUR HANDS BEFORE YOU TOUCH ANYTHING!"

"Huh. I'm going to the bathroom anyway."

And with that, Hick picked up his partially-full bottle of Diet Mountain Dew by the lid, and walked through the kitchen. I did not check the bathroom sink to see if it was wet. I am regretting that I later picked up the TV remote without wiping it off.

Back to the Front Porch

Hick's Roof Guy and his crew got back to work on the Lap House porch and shingles on Monday. Hick sent me a picture on Tuesday. But you know Hick's picture style.

"Not finished yet but getting closer."

I was shocked that it wasn't Hick's usual panoramic view, with a tiny subject in the center of the photo. This was an extreme closeup. I suppose I'm looking at the underneath side of the boards that comprise the new front porch. I would imagine that up above, there is plywood decking, and possible shingles.

On Wednesday, I got another picture from Hick.

"Looks pretty good."

Yes. It looks good, though this angle makes either the house or porch look all cattywompus and warped. Hick says, "There's really not a good place to take a picture from." Well. If you count a wide street with no traffic, and a sidewalk across the corner, and an apartment parking lot across the street to be not good places.

The Pony and I drove by on Thursday, and it looks great! Of course we forgot to get a picture. Eventually, we'll have one. After all, Hick managed to get a picture of the front of the house when he first bought it.

Yes. That's Hick's USUAL picture style. So I zoomed in for you:

I think the porch has done wonders for the appearance of Lap House. Then again, you need a comparable full-frontal picture to compare it.

We'll work on that. At this point, a picture seems more likely to be squeezed out of Hick than any actuall work on this house!

18 Hours Without Internet!

While Hick was text-bragging about his phone being fixed, I was having my own issue. 

NO INTERNET!

Such a cruel blow from The Universe. The two main joys in my life (excluding family, of course) are my scratchers and my internet, with TV a close third. To have one ripped away was traumatic!

I had shut down around 11:30 on Tuesday night. Everything seemed normal. The only difference being that my ailing, anemic HIPPIE had been shutting down about every 10 minutes for the last hour. HIPPIE has these episodes. His battery is not charging and needs to be replaced, but The Pony says a new battery would cost as much as a new laptop these days. Besides, I have a new laptop, which The Pony got me a couple of Christmases ago. It's all set up, residing on the kitchen table behind HIPPIE. It has a bit smaller screen and keypad, and runs Windows 11 and Google Chrome. I keep resisting the change.

Anyhoo... on Wednesday at 11:30 a.m., I turned on HIPPIE. After the startup sequence, I noticed that my internet icon was a big empty globe. That means NO INTERNET! Tom Cullen himself could have understood that, though he would have called it M-O-O-N.

I figured it was just HIPPIE being cantankerous. I did a restart. Nope. I did a full shutdown and startup. Nope. I disconnected and connected. Nope. Sometimes HIPPIE gets all persnickety and locks me out of internet for an hour. Exactly 60 minutes. But that usually still shows the rainbow bars representing my wi-fi connection. I waited an hour, and tried again. Nope.

This was becoming annoying. I ripped out the mouse plug-in thingy, and jabbed it into my new computer (as yet to be named) and had to call The Pony for a password that had been set up and forgotten. The password got me in, but still no connection. So it wasn't just a HIPPIE issue.

I can't get down the 13 rail-less stairs to the basement where the DISH receiver for internet resides in Hick's workshop, and the wi-fi router sits on a desk at the bottom of those stairs. I called Hick and told him he'd need to re-set them both when he got home. This usually works to restore the internet.

Hick was here at 3:30. He did this chore, then went out to mow the front yard/field and elsewhere about the grounds. When I changed out of town clothes and sat down with my scratchers, I realized that my internet STILL was not working. I wasn't going to call Hick back in off his precious zero-turn mower to try again.

I had resigned myself to calling DISH to complain. I've had to do it before. The wait is usually 30 minutes or more. I get some exceedingly polite foreign gal who is almost impossible to understand. She wants a four digit code which I most often remember. She asks the problem, if I ran the troubleshooting, and what message I got, and what I've tried. So I wrote it down:

YOUR DNS SERVER MIGHT BE UNAVAILABLE

CONTACT YOUR NETWORK ADMINISTRATOR OR INTERNET SERVICE PROVIDER

WINDOWS CAN'T FIND THE WELL KNOWN HOST www.microsoft.com USING DNS

By now it was 4:55. I figured a lot of people on the east coast and in the midwest would be off work, and calling about their DISH internet problems. I wanted time to get my issue resolved and fix Hick's supper and still watch Big Brother at 7:00. So I decided to have Hick go to the basement one more time to try again with the resets. Besides, Foreign Gal would ask me to try that, and ask what lights were showing on the receiver.

Hick came in at 5:15. I told him the internet still wasn't working, and asked if he'd do the resets again. He did. I didn't have much hope. I had one scratcher left to work on. When I finished and glanced up at HIPPIE's screen, 

THE INTERNET-CONNECTED WI-FI RAINBOW WAS SHOWING!

At 5:30, I had my internet back. I was able to join Blogland again. Hick's meat loaf and green beans were served. And I was in my OPC (Old People Chair) in time for Big Brother.

We're hoping to remain calamity-free for a couple weeks.

Telegraph, Telephone, Tell a Hick

Hick and I are not being treated well by The Universe. His phone went all wonky three days ago. He couldn't get it off SPEAKER. So EVERYBODY within hearing range (most of the population of Backroads) of his extra-loud volume could hear his business. Can't have that with incoming calls from Hick's Harem, heh, heh!

I took a look, because I'm such a techy, you know, and it seemed like he had the settings right. The Pony tried, and couldn't find anything amiss. Hick asked a total stranger (as opposed to an incomplete stranger) if he could help.

"I was in line at Lowe's, and this kid was behind me. I said, 'Do you think you can figure out what's wrong with my phone? I can't get it off SPEAKER.' And the kid said, 'Sure. I have that exact same phone.' He went into the settings, and tried to get it off, but nothing worked. So I'll have to take it to the phone store when I have time."

That time came on Tuesday, but according to Hick: "There was only one girl workin', and four people already waiting. So I just left. I'll go back tomorrow."

Which he did on Wednesday. I got a text at 1:04. "They fixed my phone."

I was having my own problems at the time, which is not a topic for today. When Hick came home, he told the story. Which was basically that he didn't know what got fixed.

"I got a guy who I think might have been the manager. He did a re-start. That didn't work. He said, 'I'm going to have to go a little deeper.' I don't know what he done, but now it works. I think maybe he said there was an update. But it's working now."

I am happy that worked out for Hick. We thought he might need a new phone [he does a lot of business with that phone, and you can't have people's names and SS numbers and personal info being broadcast during a call from the ATF]. Hick was hating the thought, because like me, he hates to learn anything new. And he didn't want to lose all his personal and business contacts that he has in the phone.

That said, I'd already mentioned to The Pony that Hick probably needed a re-start. He NEVER does one, and it's probably been a year since the last time. Looks like that wouldn't have fixed it, though. Maybe if he had been doing it at least once a month, that update would have come in on its own.

Hick Gets His Arrowheads

Remember when a guy tried to sell Hick some arrowheads for $500? Hick didn't take them. But Sunday, he got TWO collections of arrowheads. Framed, and in much better shape than the arrowheads the $500 guy had to offer.

Hick got more stuff along with this deal. And all for $250.

So much to see! We'll get to the arrowheads later. There are two framed collections. Also in this deal, Hick got the carved wooden Indian head. And the framed decals lying on the counter. They represent local law enforcement agencies. I'd say this was a pretty good deal! 

The other stuff in the picture he already had. Like all the pistols on the pegboard. They are OLD, and collector items. Hick says some of them will still shoot, but he wouldn't recommend it. These are not something a person would buy for protection and/or varmint-shooting. 

The little boat/shadow-box thingy holds fishing lures, and a reel that was dug up by one of Hick's buddies at a former town dump. The case on the right has some fishing lures, and also drug paraphernalia! That's how Hick described it. There's a grinder, and a pipe. I said I bet he didn't have many customers looking for that, and he said, "I just sold a grinder this morning!"

On the bottom shelf are some matches. I recognized the Marlboro logo. On the side shelf, there's a little blue cowboy. I asked Hick if that was plastic, and he said he thought it was metal, but didn't remember much about it. Below it is what looks like a little beer bottle, but Hick said that's salt and pepper shakers.

The attention-getter here is that giant "arrowhead" in the center. I said it looked like something used to cut up a big carcass. Hick said several of his regulars thought it was a hoe, or an axe. I'd think a hoe would have a different shape to be efficient. But I can imagine this scraping skin from flesh. It wouldn't seem to need those notches for a handle, though. It could just as well have the sharp sides, and a blunt end to grasp. Anyhoo... Hick said his asking price for just that giant tool is $350. He didn't mention what he'd charge for anything else.

A peek into Hick's SUS2.5 is always full of suprises.

Amazing Case

It once was lost, but now it's found. Hick has his pocketknife back! It's a miracle!

Of course he didn't tell me until two days later. He's lost that knife out of a hole in his pocket, and found it missing (heh, heh, I never understood that usage) on Friday after 4:00. Hick spends Fridays at his SUS2.5 from 6:30 a.m. until noon. Then he putters around and ends up at the weekly bull-shooting session before coming home around 5:00. He figured the knife was gone for good, though he said it wasn't a valuable knife. Just a common Case pocketknife.

Saturday morning, Hick was back at his SUS2.5 by 6:30 a.m. Lying on the concrete in front of the door was his knife! He figures it must have fallen out of the hole in his pocket as he was getting out the keys to lock up Friday at noon. How lucky that nobody was around to take that knife. And it was conveniently right where Hick would see it.

That pocketknife turned Hick from a loser into a finder!

Hick Takes a Loss

Hick came in Friday evening, grousing about how much dog food costs these days. It's not like our two mutts get the gourmet treatment. Just dry dog food, in a large bag, from Walmart. Pepper is still getting the puppy version, though he's 7 months old now. Maybe that's why he's twice the size of his four litter mates. I don't know why Hick is concerned with the price. You'd think the money was coming out of his own pocket, and not the household checking account.

I think Hick was voicing his displeasure with the dog food because he was really upset about something else, but wanted to act like THAT was not a big deal.

"I lost my pocketknife. I noticed it when I was leaving my buddy's shop (the weekly Friday afternoon bull-shooting session). I reached for my keys, but my knife was gone. I've got a hole in my pocket!"

"Oh. That's too bad."

"It was just a cheap knife. Not a good one."

As The Pony pointed out, upon hearing the news the next day, "Oh, no! It's the knife he always carries, and pulls out to cut off all sorts of things!"

Yes. That pocketknife was a part of Hick's life. I'm sure he will just select another one from his personal collection, or from his SUS2.5. He sells a lot of knives there. 

The lost pocketknife will be easy to replace, yet it's something that can't really be replaced.

The Universe Operates Like Google Ads

Hick and I take a multivitamin every day. I got a deal on them over the weekend. Buy two, get one free. It's a substantial savings! I ordered them as usual. In the past, they've shipped with the USPS. We get an email when they're out for delivery, and I remind Hick to check EmBee (our mailbox) for a key to the lockers beside Mailbox Row. Sometimes the vitamin bottles (hard plastic) come in a soft-pack bag instead of a box, and fit inside EmBee's hollow gullet, as she's made of steel pipe.

Anyhoo, I got the email that the vitamins were being delivered on Thursday. I sent Hick a warning text to be on the lookout when he got the mail. Then a bit later, I clicked on the tracking to see if maybe the vitamins were already here.

Well! Our vitamins were not being shipped with the USPS this time. They were being shipped by AMAZON! That's crazy! Our vitamins have nothing to do with Amazon! Even our Amazon orders come by the USPS, or by FedEx or UPS. 

Now I was in a quandary. Our newest dog Pepper is a chewer! He's seven months old now. With a mouth big enough to surround a vitamin bottle. I was not so much worried about the loss of the vitamins, but wondering if something like that could kill a dog! They are gummi vitamins. And Pepper loves to eat more than he loves to chew. If that package was left on the porch, it could mean trouble.

Of course Thursday is my Errand Day with The Pony. I was leaving home at 2:00, and returning around 4:30. I imagined that would be the window my vitamins arrived. Because that's just how life goes.

I was five miles from home when I passed a white delivery van headed our way. I couldn't read the side exactly, but I thought it said Amazon. I've never noticed Amazon delivery vehicles in our area. But I was sure that's what this was. I continued to pick up The Pony, and voiced my worry about the delivery. The Pony has not had any experience with Amazon delivery, and was no help.

After the bank, we stopped at Casey's as usual for T-Hoe's gas. I went in to pay, while The Pony remained outside to start pumping. When I came back, you'll never guess what was parked beside T-Hoe at the next pump. Or maybe you will, because you're clever.

It wasn't white, but it was definitely an Amazon delivery van! I figured it wouldn't have my vitamins, because there's probably enough deliveries in this town and Backroads for there to be more than one van. What a coincidence to have it parked right next to me, when I've never even seen one before, and was stressing over an Amazon delivery.

The Pony and I did the grocery shopping. I dropped off Pony. And a block away from Pony's house, I saw a (that?) blue Amazon delivery van again, going down a street. It's like I was surrounded by Amazon delivery vans! Like when you talk about something, and then all your Google ads pop up with that very thing the next time you're online.

After a stop at the Gas Station Chicken Store for my lottery tickets, I headed home. As I turned in the driveway, I saw an AMAZON DELIVERY VAN backing up onto my carport, having just turned around. It was a white van. I pulled T-Hoe into the yard to let it pass on our gravel driveway, but it parked. A guy got out and started walking a small package to the porch. You'd think he might have inquired if I wanted it, but no. He tripped over my little dog Jack. Pepper looked on hopefully, tail wagging, but was distracted by my presence. I am know to give out TREATS when I get home from town.

Anyhoo... neither dog went to look at the package. The Amazon driver left, and I was able to swing T-Hoe around to enter the garage. The dogs got their treat. And I got my soft-bag package of three bottles of vitamins off the porch, undisturbed.

I'll probably never see another Amazon delivery van again.

AND... We Have Construction

Looks like those construction materials left beside Lap House were for the porch. The NEW porch! You may recall that the porch was not an asset for Lap House. Just a block of concrete. Not even a tiny eave to shield the rain from your head as you unlocked the front door. Not to mention the color.

Hick decided Lap House needs a roof on that porch. To make it a nice sitting area, and improve the curb appeal. The color will be resolved later, when we're almost ready to list Lap House for sale. Though I WILL caution Hick to get it done before freezing weather sets in.

Hick sent a picture of the progress Thursday afternoon:

It's true to Hick's photography style, you see. He might as well have taken it while standing on the moon. In fact, this is a zoomed-in view! There was a lot of front yard, sidewalk, and street, with Old Buddy on the sidewalk. 

Here's a zoom of the zoom:

NOW I see what The Pony was trying to explain to me, when I didn't understand the long-distance view. The rafters for the porch are in place! This picture was around 2:30. At 4:00, Hick sent another:

I think this porch improves the looks of the house a lot. Even though it's not finished yet. I can imagine sitting on the front porch. Perhaps in a rocking chair, heh, heh, shaking my fist at random kids who chase a ball into the yard.

Finishing the porch and putting shingles on it, and the front roof, shouldn't take too long. Then maybe Hick will get to work inside...