Two Wrongs Make It Right

The owners of the house next door to The Pony did some renovations, and put it up for sale during the summer. They moved, and the house was vacant. This was the guy who gave Hick $500 towards cutting down that giant pecan tree that could have fallen on either house. The Pony didn't really interact with them since the guy was gone all the time for work.

Anyhoo... when The Pony got home from work Monday afternoon, he sent me a text. He had walked to work that morning, because he had some dizziness (that later turned into a migraine), and wanted to see if that would clear his head.

"Home with a migraine. Guess the dizziness just showed up before the pain today. Also, my neighbors that moved in Saturday stole my trash can from the curb! Came home to see it there in their driveway. Checked to make sure my lid fit, then stole it back."

"Good for you! Did they see you?"

"I don't know."

"Well. You can always say that you thought it was yours, because nobody lived there. Maybe the wind blew it while you were at work. It was really windy today."

"When I left for work, it was sitting by my mailbox, with the bottom of it full of water. They took it! It had a bag of trash in it! I didn't have any trash in mine."

"What if you see yours laying along the street, and realize that you took your new neighbors' trash can? They are common. A lid might fit more than just yours."

"I walked to work! I would have seen it coming home if it was along the road."

The next morning, on our daily phone call, I asked The Pony where the trash can was now.

"Sitting here in my living room!"

"I guess you can hide it until trash day."

"TODAY is trash day! I only have a couple bags. I'm just going to set them out on the curb."

"Dad says maybe it blew into their yard, and they thought it went with the house."

"HA HA! No. They stole it!"

"Dad says he saw your chair from the back porch in their driveway when he went by the other day."

"I took my chair back when I got my trash can! I need to 'borrow' something from work besides a black marker to write my address on my trash can."

"Wite-Out would work. But that can be chipped off."

"AND it's harder to 'borrow' from work!"

Poor Pony. If it's not one thing, it's a neighbor. I hope this was all just a misunderstanding. The Pony has already lost one trash can. No wonder he wants to hang onto this one.

Val's Interrogation Pays Off

When Hick got home from his SUS2.5 on Sunday evening, I asked him about that sausage in his Reuben Sandwich meal from the Senior Center.

"Where did that sausage come from?"

"My buddy had it at the Senior Center. He sliced it and put it on a plate, and said anybody that wanted some could have it."

"Did everybody take three slices?"

"No. A lot of people took two. They was eating it there."

"Did you just pick it up with your fingers?"

"Yeah."

"What kind of sausage was it? Did he make it himself? Was it deer sausage?"

"I don't know. It looked like salami."

"So people just used their fingers. And you don't know where it came from, or why he was giving it away?"

"I didn't get the craps or nothin'. So it must have been okay."

"You said you ate two of the slices, and gave one away at your storage unit. Was it to Old Buddy?"

"No. It was to [redacted]. OH! He's coming out here tomorrow to look at the Gator."

"To buy?"

"No. To see if he can get it running, so I can ride it around."

"Good thing I asked. Were you even going to tell me?"

"I was gonna tell you when I got home, but then I went down to the basement and forgot."

"So you wouldn't have told me?"

"Yes! When you called me to say somebody was over by the BARn, I would have!"

"What kind of vehicle does he have?"

"An old Dodge truck."

"What COLOR? Like I would know an old Dodge is."

"Gray and red, I think."

Duly noted. Don't panic when the dogs go crazy because a man is over in the BARn field with a gray and red truck. Something I never would have known, except for my mad interrogation skillz.

Hick Supplements His Diet

When Hick brought home the Reubens from the Senior Center on Friday, he carried them in white plastic bags tied at the top. That's how he always brings them home, and I yell at him remind him not to carry them where they dangle sideways, because that's how slaw soup and beet juice get soaked into the bread of the sandwiches. I guess that's how they send out the meals at the Senior Center.

Hick set them on the cutting block to take the containers out of the bags. I asked him to bring one over so I could see the slaw, and if the bread was soggy. He brought both over to the table.

"This one is really heavy compared to the other."

"Oh, that one's mine. A buddy gave me some sausage. You can have a piece if you want."

Inside was Hick's Reuben sandwich meal, with three slices of sausage on top, spread out over the sandwich, crackers, and soup container. I wish I had taken a picture. It was like summer sausage. You know. It looked kind of like salami. About 2/3 the size of a bologna slice, and a half-inch thick.

No, I didn't want any. It was nice of Hick to offer. He said he would take it the next day to his SUS2.5 for lunch. So I asked if he wanted me to put it in a baggie for him. Hick said yes, if I didn't' mind. Later, as I was getting out the baggie, I got to thinking about how Hick got that sausage home.

Where did he get it from his buddy? Did his buddy have a roll of sausage at the Senior Center, slicing it off all willy-nilly? Or was he at the storage units? How did those three slices of Hick's sausage get into the tied-up meals from the Senior Center? Did Hick carry them in his hands, on the dashboard of SilverRedO, and later put them in the Reubens? Or was it from a buddy bagging Senior Center meals who put them in Hick's carryout? Makes you wonder, doesn't it? 

Hick is not here to ask as I'm typing this. I think I need to investigate.

Hick's Newest Business Venture

Hick is quite proud of his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2 new building). He has spent a lot of time getting it ready. That entailed wiring it for electricity, installing lights, putting down flooring, adding insulation to walls and ceiling, and setting up security cameras. Then he began moving merchandise from his still-operating SUS2.

Here is the outside view of the front of the SUS2.5.

Nothing fancy, just a storefront. He had the gravel hauled in. Probably Old Buddy did the leveling of that gravel.

Hick put a window in one of the side walls.

Nothing special, but it lets in light and air, and he can see out that side. These are pictures from September.

By early October, Hick was moving in merchandise. Here are the beginnings.

I think this was taken from the front door. You can see the side window on the right, just past the jackets.

This is a slightly different angle of the same stuff. Hick likes decorating with the fish and deer heads. He had a guy offer to buy one such item the day after he put it up. Hick told the guy that was part of his decorations, and not for sale. The guy really wanted it, and asked how much it would take to buy it. Of course Hick ended up selling it!

This week, Hick was pretty sure he had his shop set up just how he wanted it.

Here's a view from the back, looking forward to the front door and window.

As you enter, here's what you see:

Hick is quite proud of his display cases. This SUS2.5 is mainly for hunting and fishing supplies. That's what he does the most business with. His other items, like NASCAR collectibles, and Coca Cola stuff, and random items, are in the SUS2.

Let the record show that Hick is not some grungy flea market scammer, selling junk that most people don't want. He has all the required local, state, and federal licenses necessary to run his business, and pays state and federal taxes on his business income.

I think Hick has done a fine job turning a storage unit into a store. He thinks so, too.

Reuben Day!!!

Friday was Reuben Sandwich day at the Senior Center. When I asked Hick if he could get us one for supper, he started by saying how he would have to call and reserve them. As if punching in a number on his phone and speaking to people he knows there is so taxing...

Anyhoo... on Thursday night, I asked Hick if we would be getting our Reubens. He said that he had already talked to his buddy who dishes up the meals, and that yes, we would be getting Reubens for our supper. YES!

Here is how they were listed on the menu:

Grilled Reuben

Broccoli Cheddar OR Veg Soup

Slaw

Crackers

Variety of Desserts

Hick brought our meals home shortly before noon, and said that for lunch, he had cherry pie for dessert. I don't really like pie, but I had him look in the containers he brought home. We had brownies! I like brownies, but didn't feel like I should have a whole one, since Hick was giving me his slaw and soup. I decided on 1/4 of a brownie, just to have a taste, so Hick could have the second one the next night.

Different bread, not the marble rye I like so much. They were a little light on the slaw this time! At least it wasn't slaw soup. And for once, the "crackers" listed on the menu actually showed up on the tray. Hick said this was "potato soup," and I can't really tell. There did seem to be chunks of potato in there, and not necessarily broccoli. The sandwich was nice and dry, not befouled by slaw juice or beet juice. Warmed in the oven, it crisped up nicely.

Doesn't that brownie look tasty? I actually saved my 1/4 serving for the next night, so I can't report on the flavor. You can bet I am planning to take that edge portion for my 1/4.

I love Reuben Sandwich day!

Reuben Sandwich day must bring out the best in everybody! Hick reported that the Denizen of the SC who has been so mean to him was "actually nice."

"I went through the line and she said, 'I have your tea half ready.' She had half a glass of tea, but the bucket was out of ice. So she filled the ice bucket, and scooped the ice into my tea. We usually do that ourself. And then she brought my two take-out meals to the table for me."

"Were you nice to her?"

"Yes. I said 'Thank you' when she brought them out."

Well. That's a step in the right direction, I suppose...

I Cried Because I Had No Blogger, Then I Met a Gal Who Had No Internet

Technology has taken over Hick's unofficial pastime of trying to kill me. Four updates in three days. I'm pretty sure it's government spyware courtesy of Bill Gates, but that's just my ECP (Extra Conspiracy Perception).

The last update was Wednesday night. You know, that little yellow dot that says your system needs to update and restart. No getting around that, though I do have some updates turned off. Anyhoo... Thursday morning, I could not get the top line of BLOGGER to come up on my blogs. The part with SIGN IN. I could read a couple of BLOGGER blogs. But then everything BLOGGER went on the fritz. The screen saying the site could not be accessed came up for every BLOGGER blog, and even blogger.com. Yet I had an internet connection, and could visit other sites.

I did a system restore to the time before those updates. It didn't work. I had Hick tromp down to the basement and reset the DISH thingy and the WiFi. It didn't work. And I'll be danged if there wasn't ANOTHER yellow dot that came up saying my system needed to update and restart. Somehow, an hour of that did the trick. So at 6:30 p.m., I was finally able to access my very own blog, and that of others.

It could have been worse...

I was quite angsty on my errand day. That lack of BLOGGER hanging over my head as I gassed up T-Hoe, went to the bank, grocery-shopped, and went in the post office.

At the bank, I discovered by driving through that the drive-thru was still closed. I looped around through the alley to get to the parking lot in front. Pulled into the handicap space, placard swinging, and saw in my mirror that TWO cars had just parked. OH NO! I sure don't want to stand in line in the lobby. Last time I hurt my upper ample-rumpus area. I still get a sharp shooting pain there.

I slid out of T-Hoe, and started hobbling as fast as I could towards the door. That handicap space is at the far end of the building. Lucky for me, they have a long concrete ramp, with a handrail. So I was gimping along grasping that handrail like I was in the gimp Olympics. No hate. I can use that word, you know, because I AM one.

Anyhoo... I stepped into the lobby and was greeted by two tellers. The one on the left said she could help me. Just like honoring a car salesman who greets you first, I took the extra steps to go to her slot. Two women came through the door right behind me. The other teller took one of them, while the other waited halfway between us.

"Oh, you brought a crowd!" said My Teller, a congenial mousy-haired gal with Dorothy Michaels (Dustin Hoffman as Tootsie) glasses.

"Believe me, I saw two cars pull in and I ran as fast as I could to get in here first!"

"Don't do that again! We don't need a line!"

Waiter said, "I would have used the drive-thru if it was open! Last time I was here was when we had all that rain and the flooding, and I said, 'Nope. I'm not getting wet. I'll come back another time.' Is that permanent?"

"No. It's only until we can get more people to work here. During all that rain, our internet went down. We had to do everything by hand, including the count at the end of the day. Which is fine. But I live in Historic River Town. That's a 45-minute drive. I didn't get home until after 7:30."

Well. That's terrible for her. I stifled my urge to tell her that at least she wasn't trapped at home by water over the bridge. Or she might have had her own blog post.

What Kind of Dark Magic is THIS: Food Edition

When The Pony was in high school, and his classmates couldn't figure out a situation, someone would always give the explanation as "DARK MAGIC!" That's what came to mind as I was cooking some supplemental chicken to go with our Chinese dinner.

I had informed Hick that by adding the six eggs, two onions, can of mushrooms, can of baby corns, and 1/3 bag of frozen broccoli to the rice, the amount of tiny chicken pellets that came in the Teriyaki chicken might make each serving meaty enough for him. 

"Here, take a look. I have some frozen chicken nuggets that I got last week, if you want me to warm some up to put in your Chinese."

"Yeah. That would be good. I'd take four or five."

I opened up the bag, part of the 5-for-$25 deal I got at Country Mart. Wow! Was I surprised! They were actual chicken nuggets. As in McDonald's chicken nuggets! I'd been expecting little pellets, like came in the Teriyaki chicken bag, the weight of which was mostly the three sauce packets included.

You never know if what's inside the bag is going to look like what's on the outside of the bag. When I was cooking them, they SMELLED exactly like McDonald's chicken nuggets! And their shape was exactly the same: some squarish, some roundish. They turned out all crisp exactly like McDonald's chicken nuggets. 

Don't get me wrong. I am not a McDonald's chicken nugget aficionado. I can take them or leave them. I haven't been to McDonald's since The Pony was still riding to school with me, and we'd go to the drive-thru. But I do know a McDonald's chicken nugget when I see one.

Since they take 20 minutes to bake, I made enough so as just to warm them for Hick's next meal. Of course I had to sample one, and it tasted exactly like a McDonald's chicken nugget. And look at the top of the bag: RESTAURANT QUALITY!

I think McDonald's gets their chicken nuggets from this same supplier! Imagine the money they're making! I'm sure they get a better deal than ol' Val. They surely buy in a greater quantity!

The innernets tell me that in St. Louis (the closest city to us), the price of a 10-piece McDonald's chicken nuggets is $7.19. That's more than this whole bag that I got for $5. There's gotta be at least 40 nuggets in that bag. Maybe more. Of course, I don't have to pay some emo teenager $20 per hour to cook them. So there's that.

Anyhoo... who knew that you can buy the EXACT same chicken nuggets that McDonald's uses? Sure, you can even chuck them in a Fry Baby if you want. I say they're just fine baked at 425 for 18-24 minutes.

I was Yesterday Years Old when I learned that McDonald's is selling frozen chicken nuggets that regular people can buy in a grocery store.