Even Steven Owes Me One

Even Steven seems to have chosen a nonmonetary way to restore equilibrium after my $1000 lottery winner. I've been doing okay on the scratchers. No big wins, but still getting back my usual 40% returns, or more. I'd been expecting a long dry spell, bereft of winners. That's usually how it goes. What I did NOT expect was a downturn in my everyday luck.

Not so much everyday luck, as getting through every day without unfortunate mishaps. Like Wednesday, for instance.

I had only been up for about 5 minutes when the first of my misfortunes befell me. I was at the kitchen sink, having just taken my thyroid pill, which requires a full glass of water. I keep a red Solo cup on the counter, just for that purpose. I had swallowed the pill, and was in the midst of filling my almond-colored sink with hot water and dirty dishes. The red Solo cup was 3/4 full of water. You don't expect me to chug it, do you? It takes a few minutes.

I reached to the counter for my Dawn orange-scented dishwashing liquid, and my hand hit the red Solo cup. I jerked in surprise, which tipped the cup over, flooding the floor and the left leg of my pajama pants with cold water. Dang it! I squished my way to the laundry room for some towels to mop up the mess. Then started a load of laundry for the towels and pajama pants, and also some other clothes. I figured I could toss them in the dryer when I got home from town.

Easter is coming up Sunday. Did you know that? I, myself, forgot. So it dawned on me while touring the innernets with HIPPIE that I must get some treats to send The Pony a package. Genius sent a text that he did not need treats, but would appreciate some scratchers. He does not buy them for himself. Then here came Hick up the driveway in SilverRedO, unexpected, and took up some time chatting with me before heading back to Hick House in A-Cad, to meet with the man from the electric company about the over-deck wire, then pick up This Guy from the nursing home rehab for his back surgery, and take him home.

As I came to the county lettered highway, I saw the road department had flag men limiting it to one lane while they worked on the bridge. But no one was watching my county blacktop road. So I just kept sitting there, waiting for either flag man to motion me out. Finally I was noticed, and given the go-ahead.

The bank, the Sis-Town Casey's, and the main post office were visited without incident. It was the school-turn Casey's that threw me for a loop. I came out with scratchers (for Easter-sending), unlocked T-Hoe with my clicker, and reached for the door handle. The door would not open! I thought it might be a clicker problem. I've been having those for several years, yet Hick refuses to take apart my clicker to see about the battery, or give me the spare clicker. I definitely heard the clicker unlock the door. When I tried again, the handle came out, and stayed out.

I gave it several tries, but that handle was not opening the latch! Great. I went around to the passenger side. Don't be thinking Val is nimble enough to climb over the full console and into the driver's seat. Those days are long gone. My intent was to reach over and open the driver's door from the inside. Well. Maybe if I was Stretch Armstrong, or Inspector Gadget with a telescoping arm. I finally had to get up on my knees (ouch) on the passenger seat and console, to reach the inside handle and open the door.

Did I mention that the wind was blowing 25 mph? It was. Unfortunately, from the driver's side of T-Hoe. By the time I climbed down and walked around to pull the driver's door open, the wind had blown so hard that it had clicked the door partway closed. Partway might as well be fully latched, because that door handle was ornamental only. I went BACK around, climbed in the passenger side again, and opened the door with the inside handle.

You know what happened, right? The exact same thing! The wind blew the door halfway latched. I tried the back door, behind the driver's door. I stood up on the running board, and tried to reach forward, but T-Hoe's inside door handles are way up front. So again, I climbed down and went to the passenger side. Oh, did I mention that parked on that side was a County Sheriff SUV, white with brown markings? Didn't matter, because nobody was getting out to assist Old Lady Val.

This time, I climbed across and opened the door, and used my purse on the driver's seat to wedge against it. You know what happened, right? The purse kept the wind from latching the door, but when I pulled it open, my purse fell down and dumped everything out. Also, the door didn't want to close (go figure!) when I pulled it shut from inside. So I had to fiddle with the latch clicky notch thingy on the edge of the door to make it close.

I got in and called Hick, to tell him I was having a very bad day. He seemed to have a modicum of sympathy, but it's not like he could bring me A-Cad. He was waiting on the electric company man, and then had to go pick up This Guy, who can't climb up in T-Hoe with his surgeried back. I told Hick I still had stops to make, and I couldn't keep climbing in the passenger door, and that I felt like leaving the door unlatched.

"I can take my purse in. There's nothing else they can really take. But the wind keeps blowing the door latched."

Hick suggested that I stuff my coat in the edge. I went one better, and used a glove only, jamming a couple fingers into the latch part on the body of T-Hoe. Sheesh!

Don't go thinking my troubles were over!

While I was in line waiting to pay for Easter candy at Walmart, I got a text. From the electric company. "We are investigating a reported power outage in the area of YOUR ADDRESS. We estimate that power will be restored by 3:45 p.m. To confirm your status, reply with 1 for power ON, 2 for power OFF, or 3 for Do not know." Not good news for my wet clothes back home, awaiting the dryer.

Dang it! That was at 1:50 p.m. I was not looking forward to getting home and carrying my purchases into a house with no power. Did I mention that it was 82 degrees?

When I came out of Walmart, I was relieved that nobody had stolen my highly-desirable 2008 Tahoe. I also discovered, in washing my hand with GermX, that I had cut a finger on T-Hoe's door latch. I figured I'd survive, though, with only three stops left to make.

When I came out of the Backroads Casey's, I reached to open the door, and the HANDLE CAME COMPLETELY OFF. Not that it really mattered.

I wish I was some kind of Idiot Hick MacGyver Savant, and could whip out a gewgaw made from parking lot junk that would open my door. But I'm not.

There's the handle, on the dash, when I stopped at Country Mart. A door handle should not be riding INSIDE the car!

I made it home without further incident, making sure to jam that glove into the latch at every other stop, and take my purse inside. On the way up the hill before our mailboxes, I passed an electric company truck. It was parked in the road, with the driver walking around to get in. As I came up the driveway, I was relieved to see the garage door go up with the clicker. We had power!

Oh, yeah. I bought myself a couple scratchers as well. Won 40% back on them.

The Customer Can Sometimes Be Right

Remember when the customer was always right? Like in Fast Times at Ridgemont High, when that angry guy didn't believe he'd been served the best breakfast he ever ate? Even though he ate most of it, and demanded his money back. HE was right. He got his refund, and he got Brad fired from All-American Burger.

These days, it's like the customer is never right. They're an annoyance.

I'd be satisfied if I could be right at least half of the time. Walk in, do my business, no hassles, nothing out of the ordinary. Just pay for my items and leave.

Friday, I set out my Walmart purchases on the conveyor. I am a well-known grouper. Boxes with boxes, produce with produce, cold with cold. All the checker need do is run the stuff over the sensor, and put it in a bag. It's GROUPED with what it needs to be bagged with. That wasn't good enough for my checker.

I started with the fried chicken. It was hot from the deli warmer, and I didn't want it bagged with anything else. In fact, as soon as I get it to T-Hoe, I take it out of the bag so it doesn't sweat. Nobody wants sweaty chicken. Boxes of stuff were next. Some crunchy oats and honey granola bars, an assortment of mini cereal boxes. Then Hick's loose bottles of strawberry banana flavored water, six of them. The produce was next, a bag of limes, a bunch of bananas. Lastly, I had a few cold items grouped together. A block of extra-sharp cheddar, some bratwursts, BBQ pulled pork, and a pack of eight fried chicken wings from the deli refrigerator case.

I had my eye on that checker. Usually, they will bag up my hot fried chicken, and set it on top of the bag carousel, where I pick it up and put it in the child seat of the cart. Just to keep track of it. Same way, I put my cold stuff last, so I know it's in the end of the cart when I get to T-Hoe, and put it in my soft-side cooler first.

The checker was holding my hot chicken hostage. She had set it lengthwise (!) down in a bag, and it was turning on the carousel as she bagged other items. Not turning all the way around, where I could get it, but back and forth, on the checker's whim, as she decided what she was bagging together. You know, because my sorting wasn't good enough.

As the cold stuff came to the sensor, the checker put in the cheese block with the bag of limes. The bananas had been bagged with the box of granola bars. I didn't say anything, even though I didn't want my bananas exposed to the sharp corners of the granola bar box. I drew the line, though, when she took my little container of cold chicken wings, and put them down beside the hot fried chicken.

"No. I'd rather not have my cold chicken wings bagged with the hot chicken."

That checker looked at me like I was overstepping my bounds. I thought for a minute she might twirl her crazy finger near her temple. What she did instead was take out both the hot fried chicken, and the cold chicken wings, and proceed to set each one down on top of the carousel while she felt the top and bottom of the other container with both hands. All the while, looking me in the eye! That's some creepy stuff. She finally put the hot chicken in a bag by itself and handed it to me. Then put the cold chicken in with the granola bars and bananas.

As soon as I got to T-Hoe, I put the limes with the bananas, the granola bars with the cereal, and all the cold stuff in one bag to go in the soft-side cooler.

Sheesh! That checker was pretty much calling me out, doubting that I had both hot and cold chicken. You'd think she'd realize that. You know, working there every day. This is the second checker I've had to caution about putting cold items with hot, and they both acted all put-out with me for mentioning it. The other one wasn't this psycho, though.

I wanted to twirl my crazy finger, but I was too scared.

Because Val Is a Giver Like That

Our casino visit last Thursday was nothing to write a blog post about. Of course that's not stopping me. We figured that since we were in the city to cash in my $1000 scratcher winner, we might as well run by our second-favorite casino for lunch and some slots. Yes, Val was feeling slotty.

Before leaving home, I sent a text to my sister the ex-mayor's wife. She thought something was wrong, for me to be up SO EARLY at 8:30. I told her of our plans, and she said that she and the Ex-Mayor had talked about running up to the casino, since their cleaning lady was coming, and they wanted to be out of the house. We agreed to meet up for lunch at the casino.

Hick and I got there around 10:30, and Sis arrived around 11:00. We went our separate ways to gamble until noon. Can you believe that the casino has rearranged their slots? They also switched management companies, and some slots had newer versions. I switched up my favorites, with some success. If you call success not losing as much as usual at this casino. Don't worry. We didn't lose my lottery winnings. Hick had his own money, and the lottery pays by check. So my fortune was safe in the car with the valet (!).

One good thing about changing ownership, I guess, was that Burger Brothers inside the casino didn't have that little guy who always messes up my order. I didn't give the new one a chance, choosing a giant hot dog instead of a burger. It was delicious. In fact, Sis looked longingly at it, and said she would get it next time, rather than her bowl of chili and burger with only cheese. Not an adventurous eater, my sister. She even picked out the tomatoes and peppers in her chili. The Ex-Mayor had the Italian sausage and onion rings, and left the bun and half of the peppers and onions uneaten. Hick was the only normal one of us, having a burger with pepper jack cheese and everything but the special sauce (which is especially not tasty) and onion rings. I wish I had taken a picture, but it's just as well, because I'm not sure I could have fit the whole hot dog in the photo.

After lunch, I had a bit of success, playing for 90 minutes on less than $10. Before you go thinking I was low-rolling at a penny a spin, let the record show that I went to the 3-reel, old-timey, quarter slots. Just to be different. Well, that... and the memory of the Ex-Mayor there last time we went, winning a $600 jackpot on one of them. I didn't win a $600 jackpot, but I won SOMETHING.

I don't know exactly what. I know that I put a twenty in the machine, and I think I had less than ten dollars in it at the time I hit these fives. If you zoom in, you can see the amount of $111.75. That includes what I had in it. This was a quarter machine, and I was playing 75 cents a spin. I'm thinking maybe the fives gave me 15 credits, which were multiplied by three and then three again, for those triple symbols. That would have given me 135 credits, which would be $101.25 on that line hit. I don't even know the name of the slot. I think it might have been Triple Blazing 7s.

Anyhoo... I had given the slots so much money before lunch that this didn't make me come out a winner. But I cashed it out and didn't play it back. None of us left as winners, but we all lost less than usual. Plus we had a good lunch.

Also, we discovered that half of the whole casino is now NON-SMOKING! Of course it's the side with the older slots, like the 3-reels. Sis and I spent most of our time in that area, since we are both still battling the cough that we acquired on CasinoPalooza 4, which was THREE WEEKS AGO.

Of course every party has its pooper, and the poopers on this day were two young fellows, probably a few hours over 21, who stood RIGHT BY a sign than said NO SMOKING AREA, puffing away on their cigarettes.

I made sure to cough as I walked by them.

Waitin' at the Car Wash Blues

Val can't write a song or sing like Jim Croce, but she can tell you about the car wash blues.

On Thursday, Hick swove A-Cad to the city so we could cash in my big scratcher winner. On the way back home, we met my sister the ex-mayor's wife and her husband at our second-favorite casino for lunch and some slots. Hick decreed that we leave at 2:00, so we could miss rush hour traffic for our one-hour drive home. I was even two minutes early for departure!

We were about halfway home, southbound on a major interstate, when we noticed traffic backing up on the northbound side. Having swoven this route for over 25 years, Master Sweaver Hick said,

"It doesn't take long to back up. That's going to take along time to clear."

"Yeah. Our side will probably back up, just from the gawkers."

"It happens."

We still had about six miles to go before turning onto our other interstate for the last half of our journey. Going past an exit ramp, I said,

"Now that we're past the exit, I'm surprised you didn't stop for a free car wash."

[Let the record show that we bought A-Cad from a dealer in the area of Hick's Work Town. Part of the perks of the purchase was free car washes as long as we owned the car. Sometimes Hick would drive A-Cad to work, just to get the car wash on his way home. Whenever A-Cad goes to the city, he usually gets a car wash.]

"We're not past it yet. It's the NEXT exit."

"We don't need a car wash today. We might get stuck in traffic if we stop. It's getting closer to rush hour down here. And the gawkers might be looking at that accident on the other side."

"Yeah, I think I'll get a car wash."

"NO! That's why I waited until we were past the exit. I don't WANT a car wash. Is it really that dirty?"

"Yes."

Hick signaled to leave the highway. We went down the outer road to the car dealership. Hick drove A-Cad around back to the car wash.

"Look out! Don't run over that guy."

"He's just a salesman."

"Still. Don't run over him!"

Hick turned toward the car wash. There were six cars already in line!

"See? We don't really need a car wash today. This will take forever."

"It's fine, Val. It won't take that long."

Of course it did. We sat in line, idling, for 35 minutes! You can probably imagine what a scintillating conversationalist Hick is. Most of the time was spent in a disagreement over how cars qualify for the free car wash. There was a sign on the building that said only cars marked with the dealership name (I forget the exact wording) were allowed in the car wash.

"So they have to have it on the back like that? The sticker thing that looks like it's painted on there?"

"No. They could just have a license plate holder."

"I don't think so! They you could use it on all your cars, and get them all washed for free."

"They sell other car brands. Look there's some Toyotas."

"Still. I think they have to have the name on the actual car. Anyway, what are they going to do, have someone run out and say, 'Wait a minute! You didn't buy that car here! Get out of line NOW!' Are they going to reach in and grab the driver? I don't see how they can enforce this unless they screen all cars before they let them in line."

"Yeah. I don't see how they can stop it."

Whew! Finally it was our turn. As we were pulling away from the automatic air dryers, Hick remembered that I hadn't reminded him that he needed to stop and buy some screws for Hick House.

Our one-hour trip home took two hours. All because I had to mention the free car wash.

Hick House Downstairs: Bathroom 04-13-19

The bathroom of Hick House is slowly coming together. HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) has been laying out the plumbing, but it's not hooked up yet. HOS also installed the sink, and cleaned up the other fixtures. At his own pace, of course. He's also been hanging siding on the outside.

Let's remember that the bathroom was originally just a room. Four walls. Actually three walls, I think, because Hick closed in a fourth one, to make a hallway between the bathroom and the kitchen.

After painting the bathroom a light green, and staining the wood floor a darker color, HOS turned his attention to the tub. Not the shower, as you can plainly see, using it as a catchall for junk. The toilet is one that Hick used to have on the second floor of his BARn. The lid has a damaged corner, because some squirrels got in the BARn, and knocked something off a shelf that hit the toilet lid and chipped chunk out of it. Still usable, though, for a $5000 house, and FREE.

Hick thought he might have another toilet, because his Storage Unit buddy called him Friday night, saying he had a toilet he'd taken out of his rental house. And it was green! Hick said not to throw it away, that he'd look at it. Unfortunately, the green was a shade too different from the walls. Besides, the buddy had not brought the lid! He said it was in his rental house somewhere, and that he'd find it eventually. Hick told him not to bother, because of the color difference. He put the green toilet in SilverRedO, but he says he's going to take it to the landfill.


Anyhoo... HOS got that tub cleaned up real nice, and added the faucet. It's awaiting the plumbing before being closed in. Hick actually had to add a panel against the wall, because he had to move the tub out so there would be room for the plumbing for the faucet.

You can see the sink that HOS installed, and a smaller medicine cabinet. Here's a better view, with the lights.

Also, you can see Hick's ill-fated light switch behind the door. This is an older style sink, which was in better shape than a stained, more modern one that Hick also had. I really like the light fixture. Not sure where it came from. The floor will still need baseboard trim when they're finished with everything else.

Opposite the sink is the alcove for HOS's stackable washer and dryer. And the other switch Hick installed that turns on the ceiling light/exhaust fan.

Two days later, HOS had cleaned up the shower. They'll be using a rod and shower curtain on it, unless Hick finds doors for it at the hardware resale store or elsewhere. Can't always come up with luxuries for a $5000 house with a $2500 budget.

I'm not sure what the next Hick House update will be, but I'll try to have something by the end of the week.

It's No COINcidence That Val Gathered More Pennyillionaire Funds This Week

Val's Future Pennyillionaire train keeps chugging on down the track. TOOT TOOT! Don't be laying any pennies on the track, you wannabee ruffians. That's dangerous.

On MONDAY, April 8, I found a two-fer at the Backroads Casey's. Two pennies for one sighting! Can't beat that with a stick!

Looking at that candy rack makes me want some of that Juicy Fruit gum! There by the empty space, in the yellow bag. I've never seen it in those little squares like Chiclets. Only in the yellow pack, each stick individually wrapped in foil.

It was a heads-up 2007, and a face-down 1984.
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On THURSDAY, April 11, my schedule was thrown off by a trip to the city to cash in my $1000 scratcher winner. It was after 4:00 when I got to town for my 44 oz Diet Coke. I'd thought about not getting one so late, but Val is a creature of habit, and loves her magical elixir. The minute I stepped out of T-Hoe, I knew I was meant to be there at that place and time.

I parked over by the moat that divides the parking lot of The Gas Station Chicken Store and the parking lot of Hick's pharmacy. Had I parked a few inches farther back, or to the left, I would not have been able to find the nickel rightfully meant for me. I doubt it was there during my usual noon-time Diet Coke run.

It was a 2013 nickel, heads-up. Hard to tell the date, because the rough blacktop had gouged out part of the date. Poor Thomas Jefferson had a big scar across his head, too. I imagine he'd been run over and flipped face-up before I found him.
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FRIDAY, April 12, I discovered a penny waiting for me in the Sis-Town Casey's, when I went in to pay for gas. Don't tell me to pay at the pump! There's been a rash of credit card fraud around here, from those scammer thingies put on Walmart self-checkouts, gas pumps, and bank ATMs.

So conveniently located, right by the register, easy to photograph and pick up while the clerk was getting my scratchers. No big winner this time. Just $5.

This was a face-down 2014. Nice and shiny.

If I could find 8 cents every week, I'd be $4.16 closer to being a Pennyillionaire by the end of the year! I figure we're 15 weeks into 2019 right now, and I should be at $1.20 to be on pace. I'm ahead of schedule, with $1.79. Future Pennyillionaire, here I come!
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2019 Running Total
Penny   # 52, 53, 54.
Dime    still at 7.
Nickel   # 6.
Quarter  still at 1.

2018 TOTALS
Penny  131
Dime  17
Nickel  6
Quarter  1

2017 TOTALS (Started in March, 2017)
Penny  78
Dime   6
Nickel  0
Quarter  0
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Hick House Exterior: New Steps and Deck 04-11-19

Hick works pretty fast when he wants to. He tore down the rickety steps of Hick House, and replaced them, along with a new deck, in two days. Probably three days, officially, because the rails aren't on yet.

Here's the picture from yesterday showing the old steps, coming out of the back porch pantry area off the kitchen, behind that newest old interior door painted white and gray. In fact, let's start with the latest picture of that door, showing the doorknob and latch:

If you step through this door into the pantry area, and make a left, you'll come out the exterior door, onto these rickety old steps. The picture from yesterday: 


Hick got to Hick House before HOS that day, and tore off the old stairs:

Look out for that first step! HOS arrived and put up more siding, while Hick built a deck and started the new stairs:


I think maybe Hick bought these runner things that the steps fit on. Or maybe he bought the boards and cut them. But the other lumber was used stuff that HOS had laying around, that had been given to him FREE by one of his salvage buddies.

Hick pretty much finished the steps, except for the handrails:

Here's the deck:

I can't say I'm on board with that picket fence railing. I dislike it enough in our front yard by the carport. Also, I don't think it looks sturdy, but Hick says every slat of it will be screwed in, and it will be plenty sturdy, unless you jump at it with both feet and try to kick it down. I'm just reminding him that HOS has a 10-year-old son, and a less-than-a-year-old son, so it must be safe. Hick assures me that it will be. Of course all sides will have rails. I'm not sure about a gate.

As with Hick's door and light switch faux pas in the bathroom, he also discovered a problem after putting up the deck. He stepped out of the house onto the deck, and noticed an electric wire overhead. It's only 9.5 feet above the deck. Hick is pretty sure that the electric company requires it to be 10 feet above the deck. He's going to call them and have them come take a look and advise him. He thinks he can raise it enough without rewiring.

On Sunday, you'll see more updates on the bathroom.