Hick House Basement 05-05-19

The electric company came to Hick House on Monday, and connected electricity from the poles on the street to the new service entrance Hick put on the side of the house. They also disconnected power from the original wires that ran across the deck. That meant Hick could finalize the electrical connections in the basement. Here are some pictures he took over the weekend.

This is the original cast-iron sewer pipe, which the new plumbing (PVC pipe) will tie into. It's in the corner of the basement under the old bathroom, which is now just a room that will be used for storage, next to the new bathroom. I'm sure you remember the old bathroom.

HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) got all the fixtures out of that room. He had to use a SAWZALL to get the shower out in pieces. Hick and HOS bought some plywood to patch the floor, and have since moved all their tools and sawhorses in there, in preparations for starting work on the master bedroom.

Standing in the basement door, looking in, you can see the water heater has been moved in. That's a concrete pillar supporting the house. The other things are part of the heating duct work hanging down. The light is coming from an actual light, not from a window.

It's a partial basement, that runs along the back of the house, under the pantry off the kitchen, the old bathroom, the kitchen itself, the new bathroom, and perhaps a sliver of the living room and master bedroom. Big enough to store things in, hold the water heater and furnace, and seek shelter from tornadoes. According to Hick, the big cast iron sewer pipe is in a separate little room, that you get to through this room, through a 2' x 3' hole. When I asked what the purpose of that was, Hick said, "That's just how they did things back then."

The main electric box is also in the basement. If you step in through the basement door, the electric box is to your left, on the wall behind you.

There's the new electric box that Hick just installed, next to the off-kilter old electric box, which Hick tied into so he could have power while waiting for the new source to be hooked up to the poles on the street by the electric company. Now that it has been connected, Hick is ready to take out the old box, and put a door on the new one, with the breakers labeled.

The big projects remaining are the master bedroom, and the plumbing. According to Hick, the plumbing can be done in one day, if HOS is on time, and they really get after it. HOS has not yet moved in the furnace, which he has, much like Hick had a collection of assorted building materials. A friend of HOS is going to hook up the electric furnace for him. Hick could do the electrical part, but not the duct work. There IS a limit to Hick's talents.

This Is Hick's Idea of Winning the Lottery

It's no secret that Hick is not the lucky sort. Well. Except for snagging Val, of course. Otherwise, he is not one to win big on lottery tickets. Probably due to not buying many. Nor is he a lucky duck in a casino, low-rolling. But on Saturday, Hick felt like he hit the jackpot.

I had called him to ask about (one of) his tractor(s). HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) had asked to borrow it to move some stuff up on our other property, where he is currently residing. Yet when I came home from town three hours later, Hick's tractor was still in front of the BARn. Anyhoo... Hick wasn't concerned about the tractor. He'd been on a Goodwill tour up north. He didn't find anything, but he was excited.

"I was coming down [county road lettered highway] and saw some people putting stuff out at the end of their driveway. They had a wire rack, like for plants, and a gun rack, and a microwave! I stopped to get them."

"Were the people still there?"

"Yeah. The guy said, 'I have a dresser, too, if you want that.' So I went to look at it, but it's too big, and they don't sell. That rack will bring me $15, and the gun rack will get $5, and the microwave $8-10. So I got a bargain! Anything I make off them will be profit!"

I wish I'd taken a picture of them in the back of SilverRedO. Hick pulled down the driveway while I was sitting in it talking to him on my cell phone. I was excited because he was finally there, for once, to carry in my box of groceries from Save A Lot. It doesn't take much to make Val giddy. Hick wanted me to admire his haul first.

The plant rack was nice. It was black metal, with some curvy curlicues. The gun rack was solid wood, with grooves for five guns. A little sanding, and a stain, and it might even get more than $5. The microwave was not my cup of tea. Hick was going to plug it in on the porch, to see if it worked. Before he bothered to clean it. As you might imagine, nobody cleans a microwave before they set it at the end of their driveway for free.

There. Hick took a picture before he left for the auction. He'd already taken out the microwave. It works! This is not the angle I would have chosen for the picture, but you can still kind of see the black metal plant rack against the backdrop of SilverRedO's black plastic bed-liner. And most of the gun rack.

I quizzed him about whether he was really taking SilverRedO to the auction.

"Somebody will take your treasures out of the back."

"No they won't."

"Seriously? At an auction? Nobody is going to take something left in a truck bed?"

"No."

"You're not planning on taking A-Cad, are you, thinking I won't know?"

"Nope. I'm taking the truck."

He did. His treasures are safe. Who knew that auctions were such bastions of honesty?

I Would Bet My Casino Bankroll That This is IRONY!

You might recall that Val and irony are not friends. Not acquaintances. Don't nod at each other in passing. Can't recognize each other in old yearbook photos. No, irony is not part of Val's posse. Irony is more like the sister of a cousin of a friend of the Target check-out gal Val once used when she was 16.

Friday, I went to the ATM at my bank. It's a trip I make every Friday. The ATM is built into the brick wall on the back side of the bank, by the three drive-thru lanes. When I pulled T-Hoe around back, I saw one car in a drive-thru lane, and several foil balloons tied to the tube-y sucky canister thingies. Two employee gals were talking to the driver, clad in special bank t-shirts, wearing their ID badges. I figured they must be having some kind of promotion, quickly running through holidays in my head. I seriously doubted May Day or Cinco de Mayo festivities from these folks. It didn't concern me, though, because I was only dealing with the ATM built into the brick wall. Or so I thought.

I had just slid my debit card into the ATM when one of the outside tellers walked over. She did that little dance, like when you play unintentional chicken with somebody walking towards you, side-to-side, not sure which way to go. Teller started for T-Hoe's driver's window, but it was within six inches of the wall. So I motioned her to the passenger side, and put down the window. I didn't unlock the doors, though. Val wasn't born yesterday. Even a seemingly-innocent teller could carjack me with my ATM fortune!

Teller greeted me by name. I'm like Cheers Norm! Teller was very polite. I like that gal. I think she's the one who told me her aunt won $100,000 on a scratcher. We're probably kindred spirits. She would never think I was scamming the bank with a check from my credit union!

"Do you use online banking?"

"No, but my son does. On the account we share. His student account."

"If you want to set one up, we can do that."

"It's easy for young people like you. But I have trouble with it."

"My stepdaughter is 18 (REEEE! I thought this gal was about 24. I guess it's possible) and she uses it all the time. I do too! It's really convenient."

"My son uses it to pay his credit card, and switch money between accounts."

"It's so easy! You can pay your electric bill, and your credit card, and your TV/internet..."

"I'm not ready right now."

"Well, we can do it any time. Just think about it. We're here when you need it. Would you like a bottle of water, or a muffin?"

"No, thanks."

Teller wandered back to the drive-thru lanes. I turned to the ATM, and made the first of my transactions. I take out money for our weekly cash allowance and some at-home, in-safe savings for six-month bills like insurance. That way, it's not in checking to fritter away, so the bill is covered when we get it, by the cash I've been stashing for that purpose. It's not that I don't trust myself, it's that I don't trust Hick to see a balance in the checkbook and think he can go buy something without telling me. You know. Like shoe inserts from The Good Feet Store, or a third tractor.

Anyhoo... my weekly withdrawal comes out of the ATM in twenties, and rather than risk clogging it, I take it out in two transactions. But this time, the ATM told me in an angry red screen that it could not dispense the money as requested! What in the NOT-HEAVEN! I knew I had enough money. It was not above the daily limit the bank arbitrarily assigned to my account. Had Hick used his debit card that morning for cash back, without telling me? This was poppycock! I call shenanigans! I tried THREE times to get my money out of my account. Each transaction less than the previous, in case the issue was the daily amount. Same red screen of denial. Hmpf!

I took back my debit card and drove through, under the drive-thru roof, and down the back alley, to an old used-car lot, now empty, where Hick and I had once bought a pontoon boat. I stopped there to fill out a withdrawal slip, and headed back up the main road to the bank. I fully intended to go inside and demand to know inquire politely what the problem was with my account. However, I saw that all ten parking spaces were full, so I went around back to the drive-thru.

Of course all lanes were full now. And the roof must have been replaced with a metal roof last time they fixed it, because my Sirius XM radio would not work. So I fiddled around with my cash that I'd already scammed from the ATM, sorting it for later distribution. Shh...don't tell Hick, but he gets the limp and torn bills, and I take the crisp ones for myself. The medium ones are stashed for Christmas and the insurance.

And now, here comes the IRONY!

When I pulled in, I saw the two bank employees still walking around the drive-thru area, with their clipboards. I overheard one tell a customer,

"Please be patient. We are having trouble with our internet system."

!!!

Wouldn't that put the kibosh on online banking?

Yeah. I'm SURE this is IRONY! Positive! Pretty sure. At least I think so.

A DesCENT Was Inevitable, I Suppose

Val is no longer on the top of her penny game. Oh, how the mighty has fallen. No more 30+ penny days for her! A single cent these days is cause for celebration.

Like this lone Lincoln that awaited me on WEDNESDAY, May 1. I might have treated it with more reverence, had I known at the time of finding that this would be my singular cent for the week.

It was a 1988, face down. Showing me its tail! Such a cheeky copper! Still, better than a shut-out.
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Don't you worry about nearly-penny-less Val, though! She had other fish to fry this week.

In case you missed it, the winner was this:

That's $200! But that's not all. Two days later, I bought THIS:

It was JUST a $100 winner. Not that I'm complaining. That's almost a year of pennies.

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"HO HO HOOOOOLD the presses!" shouts jolly old Even Steven, with his impeccable sense of humor and timing. "I have once again bestowed upon Val a last-minute coin while she's in town, with her Saturday CENTSus pre-set to publish."

 

It was a dime, (my word!) waiting for my hoard, in Orb K, looking up at me! [Heh, heh, a little song lyric theft from Val. Thanks, Eagles!] Actually, it was NOT looking up at me, because it was face down.

I don't know the year, because it's still in my shirt pocket upstairs. These last-minute finds tend to discombobulate me. I found this one at 12:50, with my post set to publish at 12:54. I might come back later to add the year. For record-keeping purposes. [1996]

I suppose this was Even Steven evening the dastardly trick he pulled LAST Saturday, when I spied a dime in Orb K, under the energy supplement racks, too far back for harvesting. That could be their new slogan. "Orb K: For all your energy supplement and floor-dime needs."
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2019 Running Total
Penny   # 57.
Dime   # 8.
Nickel   still at 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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Val Nearly Went Bananas

Remember that little old lady who singled me out in Country Mart on Monday? To make sure I knew that Walmart had bananas for 18 cents a pound?

SHE WAS RIGHT! I went there on Tuesday, and saw it with my own unglazed-over eyes!

Of course I had to buy some. A bunch of six. Even though Hick still had three perfectly good bananas from Country Mart in the fruit bowl. For 18 cents a pound, these new ones can rot, I guess! Or Hick can get more creative than just eating one banana every morning. He can be the Bubba Gump of bananas. I already suggested slicing one and dumping on top his mini cup of vanilla ice cream with the strawberry and chocolate swirls.

"You can make your own banana split!"

"I can, can I?"

I don't know why Hick can't be more enthusiastic about these things. Anyhoo... Hick agreed that for 18 cents a pound, I was right to snatch some up.

While waiting in line with my 44 oz Diet Coke (more expensive than 9.4 pounds of bananas!), I saw a lady at the counter buying a single banana. They offer them at The Gas Station Chicken Store, you know. For the high, high price of 69 CENTS PER BANANA!

I resisted the urge to tell that lady that Walmart had bananas for 18 cents a pound. I wouldn't want her to go home and blog about me...

Val Reveals More Than a Proper Lady Should

I am about to share a story that requires me to reveal more than I'd like. If there was any way to conceal the embarrassing big picture, I surely would. Alas, that is not possible. So, like a naughty swimmer from the Victorian Era showing a bit of shin, I'm about to let it all hang out.

Oh, wait! I am living in THEVICTORIAN era!!!

Anyhoo... here's the deal.

My Christmas tree is still up.

In fact, I plug it in every night. I love Christmas. Not to the extent that I display yuletide trinkets in every room. Or have a hoarder house decorated year-round with holiday gew-gaws. Nope. The tree itself (artificial), and the lights we leave strung along the gutters, wired to a light switch in the garage, are the extent of it. No, I don't turn on the outside lights every night. I do, however, love the glow of the colored lights on my artificial Christmas tree, while I'm kicked back in my OPC (Old People Chair) watching TV.

Herein lies the story. The lights were put on the Christmas tree by The Pony. He's not a very good light-putter-onner. His attention wanders. He doesn't even clip them on, but only lays them across the plastic-needled boughs. It hasn't really been a problem, though sometimes Hick chides him for his insouciance. Not that Hick knows the meaning of insouciance.

While The Pony was home for the holidays, we plugged in the Christmas tree every night. He did it at my request. He, himself, was perfectly happy laying on his gaming couch with his laptop, bereft of holiday atmosphere. One night, a strand burned out. We might have commented on it, but it was no big deal. We both thought the tree would be taken down before we left for CasinoPalooza 3, so I wanted to get maximum enjoyment out of it. Hick is like that. Once the holiday is over, the trappings are stored away.

However... Hick was remiss in taking down the tree, and also in telling The Pony to take down the tree. It used to be stored in the rafters of the garage, in its box. Then Hick built some shelves in his workshop, and the box was stashed underneath. So there was no sense of urgency to get it done while Hick had a lithe young boy (that sounds so very wrong!) to climb up a ladder in the garage with a large box.

Once back from CasinoPalooza 3, I made no mention of the Christmas tree. Hick was busy with his new $5000 old house, and only came downstairs to visit the safe, transferring his Storage Unit Store cash that he was using for renovations until we get our money back out of Hick House. I doubt he even gave the tree a thought, since it was unplugged and behind him as he came down the steps. He had his mind on his money and his money on his mind.

I've been plugging in that tree every night as I go out to watch TV. A few weeks ago, midway through my DVR watching, between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m., another strand of lights went off. Well. That happens. It didn't even spook me. I figured I'd tell Hick when he took the tree down, so he could jiggle them, or throw those non-lighting strands away. We're using the little modern lights now, not the old ones where you can replace single bulbs. The first burned-out string of lights was a little more than halfway down the tree. This newest one to burn out was connected right after it. So there were still lights above, and lights below. It did not really affect my enjoyment.

You know where this is heading, right?

Last week, I was watching a self-saved marathon of The Office, all comfy in my OPC, my precious April Christmas tree glowing at about 80 percent of its capabilities. I was around the end of Season 5, the time of The Michael Scott Paper Company. My attention was suddenly diverted to my Christmas tree, as the two burned-out strands of lights came on simultaneously.

I took that pic a couple hours ago (Tuesday evening), just to prove it happened. Of course, you only have my word for it about the strands burning out. I didn't take a picture of those two incidents. That would be weird!

That's right. My Christmas tree lights have been working ever since they came back on. No sign of a short, or any flickering malfunction. I guess they'll stay on until they don't. Such a mysterious place, my basement.

Hick House: Back Yard 04-30-19

With some limbs trimmed and the back yard spruced up, Hick had some woody trash to get rid of at Hick House. He wants to do everything legally (for the most part), so he went to city hall to ask if he could burn his yard waste. So many regulations inside the city limits!

The lady told Hick that he had to get a burn permit. So Hick said he'd take one. She said it should be okay for him to fill out his application for a burn permit (which is good for one week, no charge) as long as he had a garden hose to use in case the fire got out of control.

"Well. I don't have a garden hose. Because I don't have water. I haven't finished renovating the house, so I haven't called a building inspector to approve the house for having the water turned on."

"Oh. Well. I guess you can't have a burn permit."

"The lady next door has a garden hose!"

Hick got his burn permit. I guess the city really bends over backwards to let people set fires inside the city limits. I don't think Hick even discussed the matter of possibly using her garden hose with the lady next door.

Anyhoo... Hick waited for a non-rainy rainy day. Like Tuesday. Cloudy, likelihood of rain. There'd been rain on Sunday night and Monday. So the ground was still wet. As you can see, the back yard of Hick House is lush with grass:

Yes, the grass needs a-mowin'! But it's good for preventing fire from spreading. There were two separate burn piles.

Hick stayed in town until they smoldered down to embers. We had a down pour here during that time. So much that my internet was intermittent. Hick said he only felt some sprinkles. So it was a good day for burning at Hick House.