Val Gets Petty With It

Hick went to the annual dinner at our credit union on Saturday evening. It wasn't actually AT the credit union itself. They had it catered elsewhere. I used to go, but I don't like crowds much. The old venue had us crammed in like sardines, sitting on folding chairs, with buffet tables set up to serve yourself. The thought of that lately is not something I would want to subject myself to. We used to have a good time with my sister and her husband the ex-mayor. The Pony even went a couple years.

Anyhoo... since the credit union stopped sending out quarterly statements in favor of online accounts, we do not get the newsletter promoting this dinner. Hick would go anyway, for the free meal, you know, and socializing. But even more importantly, attendees can get a 1 percent bump-up in interest on a CD if they bring the program from that evening into the office within four months. That can be a lot of money if you have a sizeable CD.

Anyhoo... Hick went to the dinner, even though we didn't know the menu, since it wasn't on the website. Which I had checked to see if they were open Good Friday, to deposit The Pony's house payment, and saw that it was too late to RSVP for the dinner. Hick said, "They'll let me eat. I'm going anyway. They're not going to turn me away!" Thankfully, when he took The Pony's checks on Monday, he said he'd like to go, and they put his name down for the dinner.

Saturday evening, I got a call from Hick.

"I'm leaving now. I have the program to use for the interest. I'm bringing you some pulled pork and brisket."

"Ooh! That'll be good!"

Hick came in the kitchen door and opened up the container to show me. YUM! I immediately thought of how this would make three meals for me, once I made some sides to go with it. And a meal for Hick on Sunday night. He already had plans to go to a special dinner at the senior center on Monday evening.

Doesn't that look good? Pulled pork and brisket. Smoked, no sauce. Here's another view of the same container:

"That's good. You can have some for your supper tomorrow night. Instead of bacon sandwiches from the leftover bacon.

"I'm taking it in my lunch."

"What? You're not taking that for HOS, are you?"

[HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) has been working in one of Hick's auxiliary storage units, selling Hick's stuff for a percentage of the sale. Hick picks him up on the way, and takes lunch for him as well. It's usually Hot Pockets and chips, but I've been making ham and cheese sandwiches for them with the Easter ham. I don't begrudge HOS a sandwich. It's as easy to make two sandwiches as one.

I DO, however begrudge HOS and Hick this bounty (that Hick said he was bringing home for ME) to eat for their working lunch. Hick is such a carnivore. I could imagine this bounty disappearing before my very eyes.]

"Yeah. I take him lunch."

"When you called, you said you were bringing it to ME."

"Val. There's way more than plenty for everyone."

I beg to differ. Hick has been caught with a towering bowl of vegetable beef soup, with an entire shredded arm roast, a few assorted vegetables, and no "juice." I do not trust him with a container of smoked meats!

Yes. I'm being petty. Don't say you're bringing me food, and then say you're taking it for two lunches! It would have been fine if he'd said, "I'm bringing home meat for lunch for me and HOS, and you can have some." Then I know its purpose, and am happy to get a taste. 

Anyhoo... Hick set the container on the cutting block. I said I'd get some out for my supper, and put it away. What I did was take half the meat for me, and left half in the container for Hick.

"Okay! I've got mine in a different container. I took half, and left you half."

That's fair enough, right? Hick brought it for me, and I only took half! How generous I am! 

Anyhoo... Sunday morning, I heard Hick in the kitchen, filling his bag with lunch to take to his SUS2.5. I figured he was just taking the container, and probably putting some bread into baggies, or taking the rest of a loaf. I had set out mini bags of chips for each of them. Hick had already taken a bag of cookies that I'd bought him for home snacks.

Imagine my surprise when I opened FRIG II later, and saw Hick's container of meat still there. I asked him when he got home.

"Why didn't you take that meat for you and HOS?"

"Oh, I just decided I'd take the Hot Pockets."

Yeah. So he could have all that meat himself for supper. Which he did. With four slices of bread. Meanwhile, I had eaten a slice of the brisket on Saturday night, and made super nachos with some pulled pork on Sunday night. And will cut up the brisket and use the remaining pulled pork on nachos for Monday night.

What's good for the gander is better for the goose.

Monkey Wrenches Left and Right

We still don't have a closing date for the sale of Bargain House. Monday will be one week past the original closing date. Maybe Hick can get some information from Realtor Guy then.

Now the situation has become extra irritating. The water bill is due on April 15th. We usually get the bill around the 2-5, and I mail it. The city doesn't process the payments until the 15th. Hick had told me not to pay this one, because, you know, the closing was April 6. 

Last time we paid the water bill on time, for the Double Hovel, the title company also subtracted the water bill from our proceeds at closing. So we paid double, and had to go to the city with the closing papers to eventually get reimbursed. It was a pain. Now Hick will go in person on Monday, the 13th, to pay that water bill. It will likely result in a double payment again.

Also, the insurance on Bargain House is due April 21. If we don't get a closing date before that deadline, Hick will go pay that bill in person as well. Then after we finally have the closing, he'll have to go back and start the process of canceling the policy and getting a refund for six months of insurance.

It's still another week or so before the gas and electric bills are posted. They are usually due around the first of the next month. So we might be able to wait on those, depending on a closing date.

It's not that these are large amounts of money. They are loose ends that need tying. It's a pain for my record-keeping. And The Pony pays half, and is entitled to half the refunds. What should have been a smooth transition is now a pain in the rumpus.

In other news, Hick had his MRI on Thursday afternoon. The results were in his Nurse Practitioner's office on Friday, when Hick stopped by for a regular weekly shot. Of course his NP wasn't there. He asked if one of the other doctors at the practice could read the MRI results. No. But one of the nurses took a look at the radiologist's report. 

The nurse said she wasn't sure what it meant. Of course she was trying to do Hick a favor, but it's not really her job to interpret test results. She said it showed neither pneumonia nor a collapsed lung. But something was pressing on Hick's upper spine. 

"She said the MRI shows nothing wrong with my lungs, but some compressed area on my upper spine."

Those are Hick's words from a nurse's words from a written report and image. So who knows WHAT that might be... Maybe it's "just" a disc problem like Hick had with his lower back.

Hick will talk to his NP about it at an appointment he has on Thursday.

Meanwhile, it's hurry up and wait for both situations.

Harem's Gonna Harem

It was Friday night at 6:45, so of course Hick got a call from his harem. I could only hear one side of the conversation. I actually heard a harem voice, because Hick's phone is so loud, but I couldn't make out the words.

"You can get the key out of the key box. The number is XXXX. That'll open it so you can get out the key."

"Blabbety blabbety blab blab blab. Blabbety blabbety blab."

"[REDACTED 1] on the first floor has a key. In Apartment 1. Well. [REDACTED 2] knows how to get in. She should be back from church pretty soon. No. You're fine. It's just--"

"Blabbedy blabbety blab. Blabbety blab."

"There's [REDACTED 3]. You know her, don't you? She can go down and get the key to let you in. She's on third floor. That's a lot easier than me driving all the way to town from way out here to let you in."

"Blabbety blabbety blab."

"It's okay. Just go knock on her door and she'll get you in. I'll call her and tell her. Okay. Talk to you later."

I was in the kitchen, waiting to hear about the resolution. I did NOT hear Hick making a phone call. 

"Should some of these people even be living alone? Aren't you going to call [REDACTED 3]?"

"Yeah. I'm calling her now. It's my drunk lady who's locked out."

"Huh. Such a shame she's in trouble with the police, or she could call them and they could come use the key box to let her in!"

"Yeah. But [REDACTED 3] will do it."

Hick made the call and explained the situation. Ten or fifteen minutes later, [REDACTED 3] called Hick. He thanked her. They had a brief exchange. Then Hick told me...

"Her door was already unlocked!"

"What in the Not-Heaven! I bet she was just trying to lure you over there! On a Friday night! Since it seemed like she was not very receptive to your several solutions, and kept wanting YOU to come let her in. Maybe her door wasn't locked at all! Or maybe she went and got the key herself."

"I don't know. But she got in."

Hick's harem does not seem to understand boundaries...

The Universe Tries to Get Hick in Trouble

Hick normally doesn't need any help getting himself in trouble. Thursday evening, The Universe gave him an assist. 

I knew that Hick was spending the morning working in the more remote nowhere of former Backcreek Neighbors Nick and Bev's house. Then he would be at his SUS2.5 puttering around until his long-awaited MRI at 3:30. I was off running errands with The Pony, and returned home at 4:30.

I was hoping for some kind of update on the MRI. The technician is not supposed to tell you anything. But we had a friend who worked in the radiology department of a local hospital, who told us The Pony had pneumonia when he was four. Good thing! Doctors had him seeing a cardiologist because he tired out so easily, and was listless, and didn't even want to play at Chuck E. Cheese. With her input, we were able to advocate for The Pony to get treatment for pneumonia, though we kept the cardiologist appointment, and heart issues were ruled out.

Anyhoo... I didn't hear anything from Hick. He's usually home by 5:00. I thought he might have gone back to his SUS2.5 after the MRI. Maybe he had a customer he was meeting. His phone doesn't work (for me) from inside his SUS2.5. I sat down to scratch my lottery tickets. 5:00 came and went. No Hick. No text or call. Maybe the MRI appointment ran late.

By 5:30, I was getting worried. It shouldn't take that much longer, even with a late appointment. Surely Hick would have let me know. He must be on the way, thinking he wasn't all that late to warrant communication.

By 6:00, I couldn't stand not-knowing. What if they saw something on the MRI, and were rushing around trying to get Hick admitted to the hospital! It had been such a long time getting that appointment. Maybe Hick's conditioned had worsened!

I didn't want to bother Hick if he was not able to use his phone. But I couldn't take the suspense. I called him at 6:05.

"Where are you?"

"Didn't you get the text?"

"NO! I didn't get any text!"

"I sent one around 5:00. I went by to pick up my tractor from HOS [Hick's Oldest Son]. We brought it home, and now I'm taking HOS back. We're about halfway to his place."

"Oh. Okay. See you later."

I don't like to talk to Hick while he's driving, because HOS's roads are even more country than ours, and Hick is not the best driver even when he's not distracted. I checked my phone again. Nope. The last text I had from Hick was 11:30 a.m., when he had acknowledged the text I sent him at 10:45, telling him to use the debit card to pay for the MRI.

Huh. Hick SAID he sent me a text. But maybe he forgot to actually hit SEND. Or maybe he sent it to the wrong person. He'd better not be making this up, just to stay out of trouble!

When Hick got home just before 7:00, he immediately got out his phone to show me. 

"See? I sent it at 5:05! Telling you that we brought the tractor, and I was taking HOS home."

"I see it there. But it doesn't say DELIVERED. Mine either says DELIVERED, or it says READ after the person opens it."

"Mine don't do that. It changes color."

"Well. I guess you sent it. But I didn't get it!"

"I wondered why you didn't answer me back like you usually do."

Hick is off the hook for this one. The Universe is a pot-stirrer!

No, I Didn't Forget

Time once again to show the holiday feast for Thevictorians. We had our Easter Dinner on Good Friday, to accommodate Hick's greedy busy sales schedule at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). There's nothing new. Same old foods. But who doesn't like to look at food, right?

That is The Pony's plate. The Pony loves the roasted vegetables, which we refer to as "vinchtables" from childhood pronunciations. Also stuffing (from a box). There's some ham waiting to be put on mini sandwiches made with Sister Schubert's Rolls, along with some pepperjack and swiss. Red onions. Deviled eggs, of course. And some chips. The white stuff on the plate is French Onion Dip, I think. And salad, which I don't remember making separately this time, so The Pony must have had to do it (!).

Hick's plate is more ham-heavy. He's quite the carnivore. Hick also took a healthy (?) serving of potato salad. Which I was disappointed not to see on The Pony's plate, but The Pony likes it at room temperature, so was likely waiting to have it that way later with leftovers at home.

How dare Hick only take that much of the 7 layer salad!!! It seems like a mere token.

THIS is how you eat 7 layer salad! In a bowl piled to the top! So what if the rest of my plate "suffers" from having less? That salad is the main event.

Once again, I forgot about the dessert. It was only a variety of store-bought cheesecake slices. Hick and The Pony like them. I just had a couple of PEEPS.

The leftovers are all gone now, except a few slices of ham that we're eating in sandwiches. The bone is in FRIG II's freezer for a pot of beans. I'm missing my 7 layer salad already. I had been putting it on a wrap with ham for my suppers. Hick did not mind. He got the deviled eggs and potato salad and vinchtables.

When No News Might Be Good News

Here it is, two days past the original closing date for our sale of Bargain House, and we still have no check and no inkling of when we might get a check.

Hick has been communicating with Realtor Guy. It's not like he is ghosting us. He just has no information to give. The last we heard, the Buyer's financial institution had scheduled an appraisal of Bargain House on April 3, which was Good Friday. The Monday, April 6, closing date came and went. No closing.

On Monday, Realtor Guy informed Hick that the reason for the last-minute appraisal was because "The Buyer's financial institution had the wrong closing date."

How does that happen? Three ways possible, I'm guessing. The financial institution got the wrong closing date from Buyer, or Buyer's Realtor. Or they got the right date, but a worker at the financial institution itself recorded the wrong date.

Anyhoo... Realtor Guy told Hick that the appraisal report should be in "tonight." What does THAT mean? Do they work 24 hours? Where does it come "in?" To the financial institution, maybe? Then what happens? Do they have a board that has to approve the loan? 

Hick told Realtor Guy on Monday that if our closing could not be scheduled for Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday, it would have to wait until next week. As I type this, it is Wednesday night at 9:00. Hick talked to Realtor Guy this afternoon, and he said he still had no information on a closing date.

Looks like it will be next week at the earliest. Hopefully, it won't conflict with Hick's as-yet-unscheduled diagnosis/treatment of his lung ailment. Meanwhile, Hick's glass guy is fixing the windows at Bargain House on Friday.

Surely it's at least good news that we haven't heard anything, right? Wouldn't we know by now if Bargain House was not appraised at the amount needed to justify Buyer's loan? We're not counting on anything for certain...

Hick's Harem Informant

Monday evening, Hick and I were watching the finale of Extracted. It's a reality survivor show that we've followed since January. It was in the last 10 minutes, just ready to reveal the winner, when Hick's phone rang. He answered. It was one of his harem from the senior apartments.

"You know that table that was in the upstairs hall? Well, I just thought you should know, it's gone. Somebody took it."

"Yeah. I know. I have it."

"Oh. I thought you'd want to know that it was missing."

"It's fine. I have the table. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

That was pretty quick for getting one of his harem off the phone. After we finished our show, Hick said:

"At least it only took her 12 hours to notice that the table was gone, heh, heh."

"What did she expect you to do, rush over there tonight with a magnifying glass and look for fingerprints? Go door to door and search all the apartments?"

"I don't know what she expected. You never know with them gals."

Maybe Hick can organize his harem into a "neighborhood" watch group, one on each floor.