Val Takes You To the Edge...and Leaves You Danglin'

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There are still 22 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

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Today I headed off to town to meet my favorite gambling aunt for lunch. We decided on Pizza Hut, because it's close for both of us. I had the Personal Pan supreme, and she had a steaming bowl of pasta with red sauce. And chocolate chip cookies. Auntie always has the chocolate chip cookies, and takes some home with her. I, myself, resisted the temptation. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

We were supposed to meet at 11:00, but I left early to mail my DISH bill at the main post office hub. I only got it Saturday, but it seems to take an inordinately long time to be credited to my account. I can't be having my internet slowed down, you know! After the post office I went by the bank for our weekly cash allowance, and then I planned to stop for gas and pick up some lottery tickets. I had some winners burning a hole in T-Hoe's console. Can't let those things go stale, by cracky!

Of course while I'm out doing something, rather than sitting idly on my rumpus in my dark basement lair perusing conspiracy theory websites...people want to communicate with me. Today it was Genius and The Pony. Genius wanted to share that his Solar Car fundraiser is now at 79% of its goal. Yay, Genius! The Pony bemoaned the fact that EVERYBODY is getting sick. I was a bit worried, since he texted me on Thursday that he was up all night coughing, and was going to pick up some OTC cough medicine on the way to class.

"Are you okay?"

"Still kind of snotty, but I caught it and got over it sooner than everybody else, I think.
I might have been a vector of infection."

That's chemistry major talk for you, I guess.

Anyhoo...on my way back through town to get gas before getting pizza, I saw that my time was running out. I didn't want Auntie to have to wait on me, because she was taking her little dog to the vet for some routine maintenance. Besides, that town SMELLED LIKE GAS! Natural gas. I had noticed it on the way to the post office, but it was REALLY strong on the way back. Surely somebody had reported that. That's why they put that smelly chemical in it--so people WILL notice and report it. There's a middle school just up a side street. Nobody wants kids blown to smithereens. I saw a car in front of me pull off to the side of the road and the driver pull out a cell phone. Maybe he was calling. Still...I didn't want to be pumping gas in case a spark set off an explosion. So I went on another mile to Pizza Hut. Like I would be safe there.

Auntie and I got to talking about old times, and the upcoming Casinopalooza 2 she will miss for a knee replacement. She said she had to go in Walmart after taking her dog to the vet, because the stray kittens she had taken in and was keeping in her spare bedroom had shredded the curtains. I told her that I had planned on getting gas, but the smell of gas was making me reconsider.

"I can always go tomorrow. I don't really NEED it today. I try to keep the tank over half full. I can wait."

"Why don't you just get it somewhere else?"

"I ALWAYS get it there. They have the super. The one in my town doesn't, but Hick is always buying gas there for the Acadia when we go on our trips. I won't, though."

"My car won't run on Casey's gas. It coughs."

"Mine is fine with it."

"Oh, and you always get lottery tickets. You are the luckiest person with those tickets!"

"I AM pretty lucky. In fact, I was going to get some when I got gas. I still can't decide."

We finished up our gossip, lunch being long gone, and headed our separate ways. I figured I'd go see if the gas smell was still strong. If not, I could take the lake road right across from Casey's back home, and try again tomorrow. Lucky for me, the gas smell WAS gone.

But you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out the extent of my luck.

Don't get all excited. I'm not quitting my day job. Oh, wait...

I Thought I Might Have to Bake a Pie Right There and Slice It into Sections

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Want to help the Missouri S&T Solar Car Team get to Australia?  http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

There are still 23 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

Or suggest a name for free! 
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"Ahem! Hrumph! Ek ek ek ek!" Val demands your attention, clears her elderly throat of phlegm, tries out her newest language of DOLPHIN, and pulls her shawl closer around her shoulders. "You're not going to believe what happened to me on Friday when I tried to buy my prune juice 44 oz Diet Coke!"

Seriously, people. OMG! IDK WTF is wrong with these young whippersnappers today! IMO, if you want something done right, then you have to DIY. BTW, I imagine the most common POV of those young convenience store clerks that day was not TGIF, but "Why do I have to work on Good Friday?"

Let the record show that Val was not asking them to use a slide rule, write John Nash mathematical equations on a mirror, revamp Einstein's Theory of Relativity, devise a non non-Euclidean geometry, or even calculate the value of a penny if you start the month with one, and double your money every day. No. She was only trying to pay for her 44 oz Diet Coke with correct change, and trade in a winning lottery ticket for more.

Let the record show that the price of a 44 oz soda (with tax) at that store is $1.26. Val had in her hand a dollar, a quarter, and a penny. That's $1.26.

Val also had one winning scratch-off ticket that paid $40. It's not like the kids with their employee name tags had to look at the front and determine which numbers matched. No siree, Bob! All they had to do was hold the bar code of that ticket under their scanner, and the winning amount would pop up on their monitor.

Little Lord Clerkleroy got this part right. He scanned my winning ticket, and said, "You have $40."

"Thank you. I'd like a Frenzy, a Fifty Times, and a Blowout, and I'll take the other ten in cash. I have correct change for my soda."

See how simple that was? Those are three $10 tickets I wanted to buy. Little Lord Clerkleroy tore them off and laid them on the counter. He rang up a receipt for $40 and stapled it to my winner. That's their standard procedure. All he had to do next was ring up my three tickets I was purchasing, which he did. But he also added my soda to that total. Which is fine. I handed him my correct change.

"There. That's the correct change for my soda."

"Okay. I owe you $8.74 cents."

"No. I just gave you the money for my soda. You're holding it in your hands. You owe me a ten back from my ticket."

"No. Your ticket was a $40 winner, and you bought three $10 tickets. And the soda."

"Yes. And I handed you the right amount to cover my soda. I just need my change back on the tickets."

A girl clerk was fiddling around in the ticket case. "So...you had a $40 winner, and you bought three $10 tickets and a soda...so he owes you back $8.74."

"No...I handed him correct change for the soda. He's still holding it. So I need my three $10 tickets I bought and $10 back from my $40 winner."

I swear. You'd have thought I was trying to rip off a bank, and they were stalling for their under-counter panic button to bring the police, while they nonverbally sparred over who would put the dye pack in the money bag.

An older (not older than ME, mind you, but older than them) woman stepped in behind them. She must have been the manager. "I see. You owe her $10." She reached into Little Lord Clerkleroy's open drawer, and pulled out a ten, and handed it to me, and shoved the tickets my way. "Sorry for the confusion, Ma'am."

Little Lord Clerkleroy was not going gently into that good transaction. "No. I owe her $8.74."

"I'm sorry. All I did was try to pay for the soda with correct change, to make it EASIER. I sure won't try THAT again!"

"Oh, no, Ma'am. It's fine. See?" She turned to Little Lord Clerkleroy. "She won $40. Bought $30. And gets $10 back. Because she PAID FOR THE SODA WITH CASH. It's in your hand."

At least that girl clerk might be excused, because she DID figure that amount in her head without looking at a register. And she may not have been looking up when I handed Little Lord Clerkleroy the cash. Kids these days! If it's not on a device and it's not digital, they're at a loss.

Let's hope their power doesn't go down.

Thevictorian's Family Vacation

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Want to help the Missouri S&T Solar Car Team get to Australia?  http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

There are still 24 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

Or suggest a name for free! 
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I don't want to get your hopes up...but Casinopalooza 2 is in the plotting stages!

This time, not only will my sister the ex-mayor's wife and the ex-mayor himself be Val's gambling companions...there will be two special guests. Oh, Hick is going. Val needs a driver, after all. I know Hick. Hick is a thorn in my side. And I assure you, people...Hick is no GUEST!

Don't set your sights too high. I regret to inform you that my favorite gambling aunt will not be making the trip. She has some joint surgery to attend to, and will not be optimally ambulatory at trip time. So who else is left? GENIUS and tentatively THE PONY will be joining us! Slot-playing in Oklahoma is permitted at the tender age of 18, and The Pony has already surpassed that milestone.

We're still a few weeks out. Val is gathering resources for bankrolls. She's had a good scratch-off week. Not good enough to fund three thirsty money-sponges. YET. Okay...technically, I DO have enough, what with my last big winner. But why use up my stockpile when I could be adding to it a little between now and then?

I'm pretty sure HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) will volunteer to take care of our animals again. Remember when Hick was in Sweden, and I got HOS those lottery tickets for taking care of the sitting hen? He scratched them last Sunday.

HOS won 5X $20 on his ten-dollar ticket, and $2.00 on his two-dollar ticket. That's a total of $102. I shared it elsewhere, but thought inquiring minds here might like to know.

Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday #56 "The Strong Harm of the Claw"

Want to help the Missouri S&T Solar Car Team get to Australia?  http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

There are still 25 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

Or suggest a name for free! 
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Blog buddy Sioux is hosting Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday. I have 150 words to convince you to fake-buy my fake book. Have you ever been around someone who drags you down with constant complaining? Who criticizes your every move and thought? Then this week's fake book is for you! It's the story of a young boy who yearns to escape the vice-like grip of his mother's affections. She only wants what's best for him, but has questionable ways of showing it. Don't be a hermit! Come out of your shell and put in your fake order for this week's fake book!

The Strong Harm of the Claw

Jimmy can't believe his luck. When he made a wish before blowing out his birthday candles, he imagined his always-complaining mother living her life as a crab. And the next morning, when he went to wake her up, there was a CRAB on her pillow! No sign of Mom. It probably didn't hurt that Jimmy had made the same wish when he saw a shooting star, and when his friend Susie found an eyelash on his cheek. And when he discovered that old lamp and started shining it in Susie's garage.

Will Jimmy take his crabby mom to show-and-tell? Will she come out of her shell and get involved with Jimmy's soccer team? Can she ever make amends for all the angst she has caused in his short life? Surely she will go to the beach with him! Find out, in "The Strong Harm of the Claw." (147 words)

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Fake Reviews for Val’s Fake Book

Mrs. Paul..."There's something fishy going on here! I was frozen in horror at some of the antics of Jimmy's mom. Let me mince no words: This fake author is like a square fillet on a round bun. She leaves me cold." 

Joe, reviewing from his office in his Crab Shack..."Boy, was I ever steamed when I fake-read this fake book! It's an insult to crabs! This fake author must be some kind of dungeoness who spends all her time in a dark basement."

Flipper..."Ek ek ek!" Translation: I'm a dolphin, you idiots! How can I fake-read a fake book? I'm too busy, trying to learn a new language called Clickety Click."

Hermit Crab..."I don't read a lot of books, but even I know that this fake author oughta just scrap the whole writing thing. If I was Thevictorian, I'd try to disappear off the face of the earth, and find somebody else's old home to move into for free. Oh, wait..."

Ant, taking a breather while moving a rubbertree plant..."I don't mean to sound discouraging, but who in the Not-Heaven told Thevictorian she could write? Anyone knows Thevictorian can't. She certainly has some high apple-pie in the sky hopes, when in reality she's a rotten apple not fit for a pie. Now excuse me. I need to get back to moving my plant."

Mrs. Edna Krabappel..."Thevictorian should be ashamed of herself. I have assigned her to write on the board 100 times: 'I will never write another fake book.' I hope she learns her lesson."

Pollyanna..."I don't like to be critical. I always try my best to see the bright side of things, and the positive qualities in people. But pardon me while I say, 'THEVICTORIAN SUCKS!'"

Crabs (yes, THAT kind)..."Thevictorian is like a plague upon the nation! We must stop her epidemic no matter what it takes. Be wary of what your friends are readying, people. Because once you pick up Thevictorian's fake book upon their recommendation, you are reading what THEIR FRIENDS were reading, who were recommending what THEIR FRIENDS were reading, and SO ON!"

Time For Equal Time

Want to help the Missouri S&T Solar Car Team get to Australia?  http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

There are still 26 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

Or suggest a name for free! 
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Perhaps Val has been remiss in her weekly graveside chats. A possibility which occurred to her at 1:55 a.m on the night/morning of Tuesday/Wednesday, April 11/12.

It is no secret that Val stops to chat with her dear departed mother on the way to Walmart every week. And that while she cuts up and pours out her heart and sometimes even holds discourse with the wrong grave...she seldom speaks with her dad, who is HELLO laying right there beside her mom! Yes. That IS quite rude, isn't it?

Let the record show that my dad was a fantastic guy. We got along great, and he did everything he could to support me both emotionally and financially. I got my sense of humor from him. The fact remains, though, that I was closer to my mom, I had an extra 20 years with her, and I'm still trying to let her go. She's the presence I sense around me all the time. Not Dad.

My dad died of cancer. He knew it was coming for about a year and a half. He was in pretty good health for someone dying, right up until the last four weeks. I went out to the house every morning with The 2-week-old Pony, to visit from 8:00 to noon. Sorry, Little Toddler Genius. You went to daycare during the week.

Dad was a big believer in me. He bought me my first calculator, when calculators were uncommon. Seventy-five dollars it cost! A thick Texas Instruments brick that I needed for my sciency/mathy courses. Becoming a valedictorian ain't cheap, you know! Dad knew when to tell me to cool my jets, and when to believe there was actually something behind my rantings. I remember him taking a half-day off from work to go up to school and have a chat with the principal, because I felt that I did not deserve the grade I had gotten first quarter in my history/geography class.

"Dad! I've NEVER gotten a B+ before! We haven't even had a test! Or turned in any papers! All we do is sit, while the teacher talks to his football players! I don't know how that gets me a B+. We don't even have BOOKS! Just pamphlets to read. But nobody does, because all he does is talk to the football players and make fun of that boy Wendell who doesn't play. They call him Wendy!"

So...even though I didn't want Dad to go up there because it embarrassed me, he did. And the principal called the teacher in privately afterward, and later informed Dad that the teacher said, "Who? Oh. She must be one of those girls who sits in the corner." He thought he was doing us a favor, giving us all B+s. But you know what? We started doing presentations out of the pamphlets twice a quarter. I'm pretty sure the football players loved me for that...

Anyhoo...another time there was a big deal about an all-day track meet that conflicted with visitation at my grandpa's funeral. It was my mom's dad's funeral, right there in town. I went to visitation the night before. But this track meet had been scheduled way ahead of time, and I was part of the track team. My mom and grandma said I should go to the track meet, that Grandpa would have understood. My dad said I should forget the track meet and go to the funeral. At the last minute, he let me go to the track meet. After the funeral, I saw him outside the fence at the track meet. I went over to see what was wrong, and Dad said he just came by to apologize for making things difficult.

Yes, Dad taught me to play baseball, to shoot a basketball, to shoot a BB gun, to bait a hook, and even take the fish OFF the hook. He taught me to drive, to change the oil, and change a tire. He taught me that having no curfew made me bring myself home earlier than the time he would have specified. That paying as you go is better than relying on credit. And that you always do your best, look out for the other guy, and stand by your word.

Dad even got me a teaching job! The very one I just retired from, after 18 years. Funny how Dad was no longer living when he got me that job. In fact, that's HOW I got my job. At Dad's funeral, I sat next to my favorite gambling aunt, who had been married to Dad's brother. She said they had an opening at school, where she worked at the time, and that I should apply. "Oh, they fired me once. They're not going to hire me back!" But I applied. And they did.

On the morning of the first day of school, I was diapering The Infant Pony, getting him ready to drop off at daycare. Genius was handing me a Huggie when I smelled it.

"Do you smell that? It's tobacco! Like your Grandpa mixed for his pipe!" It was part Kentucky Club, part cherry. Captain Black, I think. He kept it in the square plaid Kentucky Club can.

We smelled that on another first day of school, when the boys were older, both riding with me, back when I still drove on the highway. We had just passed a local motel/lodge by where we always turned off on the way home. And there it was, inside the car, the aroma of a cherry blend pipe tobacco.

Tuesday night, I was burning the midnight-1:45 a.m. oil in my lighted basement lair, trying to figure out how to redeem series E and EE U.S Savings Bonds. My sister the ex-mayor's wife and I both have quite a stack of them. Mom had put half of them Pay On Death in my name, and half in Sis's name. The original bonds were bought by Dad, once a month, rain or shine, regular as Hick going to Goodwill on a Thursday night.

Hick and I had been to our bank that day, asking about cashing them in. We had held off, due to the taxes we'll be incurring, until I retired and his income was also less. We kind of got the runaround at the bank. Nothing is ever easy. The barely-twenty-year-old teller said SHE could cash a bond. Then Hick shoved a stack at her and said, "I've got this many." She called a supervisor.

Anyhoo...I was online that night, typing in serial numbers and issue dates, using a tool from treasurydirectdotgov to compile a list, and check maturity dates. It got me thinking about Dad buying those bonds back then, with our future in mind. I finally called it quits after I barely got started. It's going to take a while. But it's a good problem to have.

I went out to sit in my OPC (Old People Chair) and watch some DVR Dawson's Creek before bed. I had not even gone though one cycle of the OPC's heat and massage settings when I smelled it. Cherry blend pipe tobacco. It lingered for about five minutes.

Thanks, Dad.

This week marks the 19th anniversary of his death.

And I Thought a Rawhide Chew Bone Would Be Too Big

Want to help the Missouri S&T Solar Car Team get to Australia?  http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

There are still 27 days left to donate anything from a dollar (no perk included) up to $2,500 (your name on the side of the Solar Car).

Or suggest a name for free! 
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What has this four-legged little whippersnapper been up to lately?

That's a picture I snapped of Jack while Hick was living it up in Sweden and I was feeding the livestock in his absence. I was not actually taking the picture of Jack. He has a way of getting into frame when I hold up my phone. I was actually going to take a picture of what appears to be the green rim of a snowshoe around Jack's front paw.

It's a snake. A rubber snake. At first I thought it was real, then I thought it was a fishing worm that Jack found somewhere. That location IS right across from Hick's Fishing Lair. However...HOS's wife said it belongs to their son. That it's a trick snake, made to look like it's alive if you rub it the right way. So I told her to take it back to the boy before Jack ate it. Don't know if the kid dropped it here or Jack found it while he was snooping around up at their house and brought it back.

BUT...once I started trying for that photo, then looking at the result to see if it was blogworthy...Jack lost interest and returned to the tire of Hick's Gator that you see behind him. No. Jack didn't pee on the tire.

JACK TRIED TO EAT THE TIRE!

Hick told me a while back that he caught Jack chewing on the Gator tire. I told him he was making that up. What kind of dog chews on a Gator tire? A half heeler, half dachshund, it seems. There Jack was, his head sideways, gnawing like a beaver felling a tree. Of course when I tried to get THAT picture, Jack stopped and posed. Still licking his lips from his tasty tire, though.

I guess that's what he'd been doing while I fed Billy the goat and Barry the mini pony, then stopped when I turned to walk back past the Gator. Couldn't resist returning to it though.

Does anyone have job opening for Puppy Jack?

Hear That? It's Val in Her Helicopter!

You know how when you work in an office, some mother is always selling stuff for her precious child? Like Girl Scout cookies, or overpriced Christmas wrapping paper, or magazine subscriptions, or fundraiser candy bars?

I AM THAT MOTHER!

Don't assume that just because I don't work any more, and you don't-work in my non-office with me...that you're off the hook! I'm spreading my brochures out right here in the break room for the next 28 days. That's how long Genius has left on his Crowdfunding campaign for Solar Car.

Let the record show that I don't expect you to donate. But if you're on social media, which I am NOT, save my little Blogger venture...perhaps you could put a link for him if you believe in his mission. SOMEBODY out there might just be an alumnus, or like getting skinned knuckles working under the hood of a car, or appreciate go-getterness in young college whippersnappers, or...maybe...their heart melts for solar power. You never know who might see it, and wish to donate. Not everybody in this world is selfishly spending their fixed income on food, shelter, and medical insurance able to spare money on other people's dreams. So I understand. No hard feelings. And a link is FREE, by cracky!

Go here

http://bit.ly/2nxOVeh

to read about this latest Missouri S&T Solar Car Team quest.

You can even suggest a name for this year's car if you go to the NAME SUGGESTION link.

If you go to that main link, you can see a video, and read a little bit about this year's Solar Car race. It's in Australia! And it costs $25 a day to keep the team supplied with WATER! Also on that page is a picture of Genius. He's third from the left in that thumbnail row of 4 guys. You can click on his face and read a short statement from him. He's a former Solar Car president, but not the one mentioned in the 2-minute video of his friend Connor, one of last year's drivers. Also, Genius made the video, and wrote the script.

Genius will not be making the trip to Australia. That would require that he take off the entire fall semester, and he's due to graduate in December, so that's not feasible for him. The team that is going will be able to get a co-op credit for this venture, which means it will count like they're working for a semester (though they don't get paid anything), and their scholarships will still be there for them when they return to school spring semester. They will be spending 32 days in Australia.

Genius doesn't know if we will be able to follow the race this year, due to the remoteness of the outback, but as long as they can get internet connection, the team will keep us posted on their progress by social media.

Let the record further show that Val has made a donation. It's not like she's asking you to jump out of a plane while she rides it back to the runway. Yes, even though I would rather spend my once-earned cash on scratch-off tickets, the lottery has been good to me lately. So the Solar Car benefits. Besides, it's TAX DEDUCTIBLE!

The link is going to be at the top of my posts until the Solar Car campaign is over. Just because it's not hurting me to keep it there, and it's not hurting you to skip over it. Genius says people can donate one dollar or more. It looks like you have to start at $25, but THAT'S NOT TRUE! That's just the level to get a perk. If you actually click on the donation link, you just override the $25.00 in the box, and type in how much you want to give. Oh, and if you scroll to the bottom, you'll see that for the low, low price of only $2,500...you can get your name on the side of the Solar Car! Yeah. That's not the donation I made.

Genius says they are attempting to raise funds in a variety of methods, and with this one they hope to help with costs of getting the Solar Car and the team to Australia. He estimates costs will run in the neighborhood of $50,000. For example, the team will have a convoy of 4-5 vehicles, each of which costs $50 per day. He stressed that there are OTHER WAYS TO HELP! That if you know somebody with a business who would like to donate materials, or have contacts who can help with freighting the Solar Car, or deal with an engineering firm that might want to sponsor the car, or have a company that could donate machining time to working on parts...please contact the Solar Car team. Genius has his email address in the box when you click on his face!

Okay. Y'all can go back to gossiping now, and eating the frosting off that half sheet cake that somebody got for their retirement party. Just remember, these brochures are right here on the table if you want to look through them...