It Blew Nobody Any Good

There was an ill wind on Thursday, my errand day. It was preceded by a black sky and downpour around noon. I felt sad for The Pony. At least the rain stopped within an hour. The wind continued to increase. I didn't look up the wind speed. That would have been too depressing, and might have discouraged me from heading to town! I will say that when I felt the effects, that wind seemed to gust stronger than the day it was 50 mph.

I survived my walk from the gas pumps into Casey's. As always on windy days, I parked so the wind would blow T-Hoe's large and heavy door open, and not slam it to amputate my legs as I tried to get in and out. At Country Mart, I had to park so far down the line of six handicap spaces that I just entered through the pharmacy door, and walked the length of that place to get a cart. 

The bank was my main problem. Still no drive-thru service. I figured that once I got in front of the building, I'd be fine, with the wind slowed by the brick structure. I was almost toppled in the five steps from T-Hoe to the ramp with handrails. I hung on to a rail with my left hand, while holding down my flapping shirt with my right. Nobody needs to see THAT indecent exposure. The Pony said I was on the verge of doing a Marilyn Monroe.

Speaking of The Pony, the wind was not kind to mailpeople either. And yet The Pony had sympathy for the city workers.

"I felt sorry for the street workers, or whoever was in charge of pouring concrete. They had just completed a patch, and had orange cones up around it to keep people from walking there. But the wind had blown two of the orange cones into the fresh concrete! It wasn't completely soft, but it wasn't yet solid. The cones were just barely too far for me to reach them, or I would have pulled them out. They had made lines where they scooted across. I was afraid if I tried, the wind would hit me and push me into the fresh concrete!"

Yeah. Nobody needs a Pony trapped in a sidewalk. The thought of a good deed will have to suffice.

A Genderational Study at the Supermarket

Funny how different generations approach everyday activities.  I mean funny peculiar, not funny ha-ha.

As I was heading to the checkout on Thursday in Country Mart, a young guy passed me. Nothing wrong with that. I was pushing my cart with three six-packs of Diet Mountain Dew for Hick, and a jar of dill pickle spears, some Caesar Dressing and Blue Cheese Dressing, and some chicken tenders from the deli. Not a lot. Everything but the soda fit in the child seat. Still, I don't blame Young Guy for passing me on the right as I wheeled my cart/walker along the front aisle.

Young Guy had no cart. He carried two cans of energy drink, and two bags of chips, in his bare hands. I'm not snack-shaming him. Maybe he was working the evening shift, and picking up his supper and "lunch." Maybe he had a friend waiting. He looked like a fit, hard-working guy around the late 20s.

As we approached the register, two high school girls peeked around the end of the snack aisle at us. Then they RAN to the register, to be sure to get ahead of us. They each carried a couple of snacks and a drink.

Again, no shade on those gals. First come, first served. But I would never run to get ahead of someone in line, even if my knees were willing. It's a generational thing. We elderlies will wait our turn in line, much like cud-chewing heifers, ruminating on our past. We might even (GASP) motion somebody to go ahead of us. That's how we were raised.

I don't know who is raising this younger generation! I never brought up my boys to act like that. You wait your turn, and offer others your place in line if you are not in a hurry, and they have less.

Young Guy was ahead of me, right after those gals. Here's another interesting behavior. 

MEN do not know how to go through a grocery line!

Young Guy put his drinks and chips on the conveyor. The cashier rang them up and bagged them, setting them at the end of the counter. Young Guy just stood there. Across from the cashier. He was paying cash, and did NOT move down toward the card-scanner. He was holding up the line. I couldn't get my stuff on the conveyor unless I rear-ended Young Guy with my cart pushing his butt. It's always MEN who do this! They can't proceed to the end to pick up their groceries. Or bag them at the end like in 10Box. They feel the need to hang out by the cashier, holding up the line.

Women don't do that! Women are gatherers. They go to the end so they can pick up their groceries or put them in bags. Men are hunters. They stand there handing over their cash. Delaying their trip to pick up the groceries. Like they are putting a foot on their conquest, waiting to be admired.

The guy behind me, of my generation, calmly waited his turn. Kudos for that. But I have a feeling he would also have blocked the line, standing there by the cashier, rather than moving down to the end before she asked for his payment.

Another Lost Skill

Do schools even offer driver's education classes any more? I don't think so. Genius and The Pony did not have that option, but then again, Newmentia was a small school. Back in my VALEDICTORIAN days, my high school offered driver's education. I took it the summer after my sophomore year. You could get a discount on insurance if the teenager had taken (and passed, I assume) a driver's education class.

Of course the teacher was always a coach looking to make extra money over the summer. As I remember, we had instruction in a classroom, and then days when we actually drove. My group had three students. The instructor sat in the passenger seat, where he had his own steering wheel and brake. I don't remember using seatbelts. It was not a law back then. I DO remember sometimes clenching my fists and hoping not to die, as one of my fellow driving students made bonehead mistakes while operating that car.

When I got my first car, a Chevy Vega, the seatbelt had to be fastened while driving, or a chime would sound continuously. My peers thought they were quite funny when asking, "Are you afraid you'll fall out of the car?" in response to seeing me wearing a seatbelt. It could be fastend behind me, but driving while sitting on the fastened seatbelt was not comfortable, because the latch thingy poked into my not-yet-ample rumpus.

Anyhoo... Genius and The Pony were instructed by Hick. I didn't have the nerves for it, having given it a go with Genius, who was quite confident, having been a driver since 10 years old when Hick let him drive a Toyota around the property, with The Pony as a back-seat passenger!

Anyhoo... we made sure the boys had practice in parking. Which people these days DON'T KNOW HOW TO DO!

Can you see the yellow line? Oh, maybe not. Because it is UNDER THE CAR! This is why I have to cheat over with T-Hoe, and leave plenty of room for the door to open when I want to get back in. This guy backed into a space at the Backroads Casey's, right next to T-Hoe in the handicap space, even though there was nobody else on the lot. Six or eight other spaces could have been used. But this guy needed to park up next to T-Hoe.

At least I had left plenty of room from the line. There is nothing on the right side of my rightful handicap space. It's on the end. So I was not inconveniencing any other parkers.

How can people be so bad at parking???

I Suppose the Novelty Has Worn Off

You may recall that last year, Hick volunteered to be an election judge. He was assigned to a precinct that is 30 minutes from home. Yesterday was election day. Hick made sure to secure food to take. He went by Country Mart on Monday, and ordered a BIG SANDWICH. He said the people really liked it last time. 

Hick had to be at the precinct by 5:30 a.m. They really wanted him there by 5:15. So he was out of here before 5:00, with his sandwich in a cooler. He was a bit surprised that he was still an election judge, having presumed that it was a finite time limit.

When Hick got home shortly before 9:00 p.m., he conceded that he might be on that election judge list until he asked to be off. He thought he had been on it since last March or April, but I think it was July. He said he thinks he gets paid $16 per hour for it. I'm not sure, because Hick is kind of unreliable with such facts. I DO know that he worked 14 hours. And that next year, as with this year, he will receive a W2 from the county for his pay.

Hick brought home a little bit of his BIG SANDWICH this time.

"Oh, did they not like it as well? It really smelled like it had too much onion on it."

"No. They really liked it again. But there was only five of us this time."

"What else did you have to eat?"

"One lady brough a fruit tray that she made. She cut up some strawberries and apples."

"So you just had your sandwich, and a fruit tray???"

"No. Somebody brought a meat tray. And a loaf of bread. But everybody liked my sandwich more."

Huh. That's different from last time, when they had pulled pork, baked beans, macaroni salad, potato salad, and donuts! And unlike last time's 28 percent voter turnout, this time they had 15 percent. I don't know what issues were on the ballot. I didn't bother to get out and vote. Neither did Hick. So I guess 15 percent is good enough.

Hick was not as excited about working the election this time. I guess that's why they only had half the workers as last time. Nobody is passionate about any issues.

Another Grilling of Hick

Sunday, we had another grilling of Hick. He's quite a good BBQer. The menu this time was pork steaks and bratwurst. REAL bratwurst, courtesy of the Save A Lot butcher department. None of that brand name pre-packaged stuff. 

Hick chose a pork steak, with sides of Stove Top Stuffing (a favorite of The Pony), and baked beans with onions and hot dogs. That was a request from Hick. I normally bake the beans with diced onion, but Hick wanted hot dogs included this time.

The Pony chose bratwursts. Don't get me started on the KETCHUP, but I can understand the mayo. Also the Stove Top Stuffing, and a new addition, the baked beans. Normally The Pony does not choose the baked beans.

The Pony also enjoyed a baked potato and salad and Sister Schubert's Rolls. I had to take that picture twice, because The Pony chastised me for missing the peace sign.

I chose a bratwurst, saving my pork steak for another day. There are baked beans and SLAW, too. I don't have any phobia about food touching. I just like my sides in a ramekin, for portion control. No need for condiments on my brat, since slaw is a good accoutrement. 

Of course I had a salad. Not because I think it's healthy, with all my blue cheese dressing and crispy onions. Just because I LIKE salad.

The Pony went home with some cheesecake and cookies for dessert, along with the rest of the Stove Top, and four bratwursts with buns. Hick and I will be having BBQ pork steaks, and some bratwursts, over the next few days, with those baked beans.

Hick the Matchmaker (Not)

Hick came home from a day of selling at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) and said he got an interesting text from a customer.

"She asked me who was the guy driving the Dodge Charger."

"Isn't that the car from that TV show? What was it? The orange car with a number on the side. Maybe a 1?"

"The Dukes of Hazard? No. That was a Dodge Challenger. This was a Charger. A newer model. Kind of like a Barracuda."

"Oh! I had one of those in my Hot Wheels cars. It was purple. Really fast."

"Anyway, she asked me who that guy was. I think she's kind of sweet on him."

"You could be a matchmaker! Did you tell her who it was?"

"No. He's married! He's been married five or six times. I just told her that he's a regular customer."

"How old is she?"

"Probably in her 40s. Same as he is. But I'm not telling her who he is. He's married."

Well... for now, anyway! Never a dull moment for Hick.

The Creeks Are Up

We're in the middle of four days of constant rain. At least we were in between the storm bands that brought tornadoes earlier in the week. Our hillbilly mansion sits high upon a hill. A tornado could be dangerous, but the water doesn't reach us, and the basement is without leaks.

We have a route to town that can avoid the main low water bridge.

That's our bridge, down by Mailbox Row, on Friday. I can tell by the level of the water on those supports that the main low water bridge will not be passable. I'd get you a picture, but that would require backing up T-Hoe to find a place to turn around once I took it. Not something I want to do on a narrow, curvy, blacktop road. Take my word for it. When the waters recede, I might be able to show the aftermath, if there's no traffic behind me.

On Saturday, the water was higher.

I knew it would be worse before I got to that point. The evidence was clear.

It was obvious the creek had been out of its banks earlier in the day. That's the gravel road leading to Mailbox Row.

A lot of debris was left high(er) and (not-so) dry when the creek receded. I'm glad I waited until the future radar showed a lull in the rain before heading to town. Hick was out of here early, before the road flooded.

Rain by itself won't keep me from town! Those scratchers aren't going to buy themselves. Rain won't keep Hick from going to his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) all weekend. Rain won't keep The Pony from walking 11.5 miles to deliver the mail every day.

Of course we had planned another cookout for Sunday. The rain is supposed to stop by afternoon. Even if not, Hick can wheel GassyG Jr around the porch to find a place out of the wind. The porch goes all the way around the house. Some section will be calm and dry. Hick will need to wear a jacket! The temp is only going to reach the low 50s. The Pony and I will be warm and dry inside, working up an appetite.