Et Tu, Machinery?

I bought some baby carrots for Hick to have with dip. You'd think it's a pretty simple side dish. I stir a packet of Hidden Valley Ranch Dip powder into a container of sour cream. Then I open a bag of baby carrots and rinse them off and pat them dry. Easy peasy. Several days of side dish.

I know that nobody runs a baby carrot farm. That you don't buy seeds to plant baby carrots. They are full-grown carrots that are cut and peeled and shaped by machines. I've never seen them on an episode of How It's Made, but I'm not an idiot. I'm sure you could find the process on YouTube if you wanted to see where baby carrots come from.

My bag of baby carrots looked just fine. Here's the other bag I bought at the same time:

Nothing unusual about that. Just baby carrots ready for chomping. I HOPE! Because there was something unusual in the first bag I opened.

That's no baby! It's more of an older, college brother. Thank goodness it wasn't a gnarled great grandaddy. I told Hick he could gnaw on it like Bugs Bunny, or I'd peel it and cut it up to go with the real babies. It's still in my Chinese Tupperware, so I guess I should get out my peeler.

How did this behemoth make it through to the end of the production line to get bagged? I would imagine there's some kind of sifter that lets a uniform size baby fall through. That would seem more economical than hiring PEOPLE to stand at a conveyor and toss out the giants. But what do I know? Maybe it's just another case of NOBODY DOING A JOB CORRECTLY.

Or maybe a case of a MACHINE not doing a job correctly.

A Good Silent Stew

Hick drove me to my doctor appointment on Thursday. He drops me off at the door of the clinic, then parks and comes inside to wait with me. That way I don't have a long walk. I stopped by the bathroom first, then got in line at the counter to check in. 

There are three windows (actually just slots in the counter) to check in. Only the middle gal was working. I was fourth in line. Hick came by and said he'd get our seats. I like the one on the end of the first row. It's the closest to the door where they call the patients back. I'm so slow getting up and moving that it doesn't seem fair to sit farther away and make the staff wait on my seemingly endless journey.

The gal at the far end called one of the line-waiters over. Another one finished up. And I was next, after a man who was helping a woman in a wheelchair check in. I got my turn once they wheeled off. I'd already done the online check-in on YourChart, so mainly I just had to verify my name, address, and phone number.

I turned to walk over to Hick, and saw that MY SEAT WAS TAKEN BY THE WHEELCHAIR MAN! What in the Not-Heaven, Hick! You had ONE JOB! Well. Two. To drive me there and back, and to save my seat. Now he had let a stranger sit there, and I was forced to sit on Hick's other side. In the third chair, not the first. 

My nose was a bit out of joint when I sat down. Hick was animatedly talking to the stranger, who was not strange to him, but a former schoolmate. They went on and on about people they knew. About their treasures that they have accumulated from auctions and flea markets. Wheelchair Man had just bought a toy pinball machine for $15. Hick was commenting that I had one like it as a child, trying to draw me into the conversation.

I was polite, but inside I was steaming. Not just because Hick had given away my seat, but because Wheelchair Man had parked the woman (his wife, it turns out) in the wheelchair facing away from everything! She was at the end of the row, facing a wall that had a sealed window into the pharmacy area where I rarely see any people. Every now and then she would make a comment to join the conversation. But it had to be said over her shoulder, since she was facing away from us.

That figures. This ol' boy was just like Hick. Not really thinking about his wife to include her in the interaction. I was fuming. I held my tongue. I didn't want to say anything directly to Wheelchair Man. But I guarantee Hick was going to get a piece of my mind later, about the way that guy treated his wife.

After 15 minutes, a nurse called for Wheelchair Wife from a door down at the other end, where I go for labs. Wheelchair Man got up and said goodbye to Hick. He spun Wheelchair Wife around and pushed her all the way across the front row. I turned to Hick, to give him a roasting over Wheelchair Man's oafish behavior in parking his wife facing away from everything, and Hick beat me to speaking. With a nod of his head towards their backs, he said:

"His wife is blind."

Oh. Well. Um. Good thing I hadn't said anything!

"Oh, no! I was just going to yell at you for that guy parking his wife where she couldn't see anything! But turns out it didn't matter, because she couldn't see anything!"

I don't know why, but this whole situation reminded me of one of my favorite scenes in Silkwood. When Kurt Russell comments on Cher's makeup, done by her girlfriend Diana Scarwid. He makes fun of how obvious it is, and how the girlfriend (Angela) is not a very good beautician. Then Meryl Streep tells him it's not nice to make fun of what a person does for a living. Kurt Russell says, "If that's what a beautician does, I'll take mine rare." Then Meryl Streep tells him that Angela works at the funeral home.

About That Broken Harem Key...

Because a couple of MY PEOPLE were curious, I asked Hick how he got that broken key out of the lock when one of his Harem called last Friday.

"There wasn't no key in the lock when I got there. She just left it unlocked."

"Did you get the broken key?"

"No. I didn't ask for it. She had to pay for the cost of the new key anyway."

"How could she have gotten the broken key out of the lock?"

"Maybe she put it partway in and twisted it, and it broke off. So she could grab the part sticking out."

"So you never saw the broken key. How do you know she really broke it? Maybe she just SAID she broke it, to get you to come over."

"I hope not. I don't want her having extra keys. But I don't really know, because I didn't see the broken key."

"If it had been broken off in the lock, how would you get it out?"

"Tweezers."

"You mean like needle-nose pliers?"

"Yeah. That could work."

"What about a magnet?"

"Maybe. Some keys are steel. But some are brass. The magnet would only work on steel. Or you could use gum. Stick the gum in it, and pull out the broken piece."

Hick would probably have the Harem all lined up, chewing gum, to volunteer to help with such a task!

Perhaps a Mark on the Calendar is Needed

I sit here at the keyboard on Friday night at 7:58, and am shocked that there has been NO PHONE CALL FROM HICK'S HAREM! He came home at 4:45. As he walked through the kitchen, I said:

"You know this is Friday. I wonder which of your Harem is going to call."

"I don't think they will. I went by there this afternoon and seen them all. I think they're good."

Well. Maybe that's a preventative step that should become part of Hick's weekend routine. And then I found out even more! 

"Why did you go to the apartments today? You usually don't on Fridays."

"Because one of the guys called me and said he thought my office door was open."

"Wait a minute! Now the MEN are calling you, too???"

"Val. Most landlords would be happy that their renters like them enough to call them. I have four men and eleven women there now."

"It's just that EVERY FRIDAY, one of them needs you for something that's nothing. Was your door unlocked?"

"No. It was fine. Then a couple of them gals said they wanted to see my office. So I let them in and told them to have a seat. We spent about 15 minutes there."

"Oh, no! Now the others will be jealous!"

"I told them that you call them my Harem, and some of them said they was gonna get hats made that say 'Harem.'"

"Heh, heh! That would be hilarious."

Forget the mark on the calendar. Since there WAS a call from that guy about Hick's office door. It must have been more urgent than the assorted problems of Hick's Harem. Because the guy called at 10:30 in the morning. The time Hick is there for lunch on the other weekdays.

Dang It! Just as I Feared.

It seems like Hick's love affair with Cheap House is going to continue to cause neglect for the red-porched fliphouse... 

Hick met with Realtor Guy yesterday about listing Cheap House. They took a tour of the property. Hick stated his desire to list it next week, at around $69,000. I trust Realtor Guy's opinion, because he has a stake in this. The more it sells for, the more he'll earn in commission. So I don't think he'd steer us wrong.

Realtor Guy said sure, you CAN list it at $69,000 like it is. Which is what you intended all along, to sell it to a flipper. However, that will get you a bunch of lowball offers like $30,000 or $35,000. Of course you don't have to take offers like that. But IF you do a little more work on it, like putting in definite walls, and some drywall, you can list it at a higher price, and be more likely to get legitimate offers for it.

Of course Hick was thrilled to hear this. Though not so thrilled to hear my complaining. I swear he has had the plan all along to fix up Cheap House like a regular flip, even though we'd already bought him his precious Lap House.

Hick talked me off the ledge by saying that it will take $5,000-$7,000 to put in the walls and drywall. He will have both Old Buddy and HOS working on Cheap House. And then we can list it for around $85,000. I have not yet discussed this plan with The Pony.

Realtor Guy liked that Hick had torn off the back porch room, and turned that back room from a bedroom to a living room. It's where you enter through the back door. He said when we list it, he will start his house tours by going in the back. That way you walk into the living room, and then flow to the kitchen on the left, and later to the front of the house, which will be down a short hall, and the bedrooms at the front.This makes sense to me, because there is an alley behind the house, with off-street parking beside the shed. So that's convenient for entering and bringing in groceries or company.

I still think we would get decent offers right now if we listed at $69,000. But I can also see the logic in putting a little more money into Cheap House to make it a little more finished, and ask a higher price. What I DON'T want to do is get involved with an HVAC system, or the kitchen and bathroom. That's where the big money comes in, and we've already invested a lot in the new roof.

The Red-Porched StepFlip

Hick just HAD to have Lap House, the flip that some guy called him about, which wasn't even listed. So we bought it in March. Hick puttered around a bit with it, cleaning out the basement, and making plans. THEN he heard about the auction of Cheap House on the courthouse steps, and over-ruled me (with his minion The Pony) to buy it. The Cheap House deal was officially done on June 1st. Since then, Hick has devoted most of his time (not taken by his business or his Harem or his just over $300 a month apartment managing job and side jobs) to Cheap House. It seems like forever, but has only been not-quite three months.

Anyhoo... poor Lap House finally got its red porch painted black. And a new porch and partial roof. And an HVAC system. All things that were needed, but not really done by Hick. He hasn't forgotten Lap House. Just doted on Cheap House. Until a couple days ago, when he sent me a picture:

That's a nice addition. Hick called them "blocks," but he's been talking about yard pavers getting moved from Cheap House over to Lap House. I think this must be them. They give a walkway from the front sidewalk, and the side sidewalk. Such a path would be a nightmare for me, but surefooted people will surely like having something to step on besides bare lawn. Especially after a rain.

I asked if this would make mowing harder. Hick says it will not. That a mower can go right over them, and then you just have to weed-eat around the edges.

Hick isn't supposed to be lifting anything over 20 pounds since his surgery on the 13th. I asked how these pavers got from Cheap House to Lap House. A distance of about 2 miles. He said, "On the back of my truck. HOS hauled them over and put them down." Which I was glad to hear, because according to Hick, each paver weighs around 50-60 pounds.

Anyhoo... now Hick needs to put that siding back on the corner of Lap House where he had it off to install the new electrical service. He might need to delegate that to Old Buddy or HOS. I don't know if Hick is cleared for ladder-climbing.

Hickspeed

Hick enjoys being the center of attention. As if his Harem isn't enough, he is now seeking adoration input from MY PEOPLE. That's what he calls you. My vast readership. MY PEOPLE. Hick is not shy about me telling stories of his exploits. Like Charlene on Designing Women yearned for knowledge, Hick yearns for attention.

When I came home Monday afternoon, I saw SilverRedO parked in the BARn field by Hick's red trailer. The one that replaced the trailer wrecked by a buddy in an early snowstorm last year. By the time I got to the driveway, Hick had sent me a text:

"Your groups will like this tire blew out on trailer setting in field."

Allow me to translate that for you. Hick thinks MY PEOPLE will like seeing how a tire on his new trailer had a blowout while just sitting in the BARn field.

Of course I had to interrogate Hick later that evening for details. Because I know MY PEOPLE want the full story.

"So it was just sitting there? You haven't used it lately?"

"Nope. I just noticed it today."

"Didn't you just get new tires? It looks like there's still a lot of tread left."

"No, the new tires was on my trailer that my buddy wrecked. I'd just put four new ones on there, and they was ruined."

"So did this tire just get too hot, sitting there in the sun through the 100-degree temperatures?"

"Maybe. Tires can dry rot when they get older. I don't know how old these are."

Well. Hick is in no shape to be changing a tire these days. I suppose he should probably replace all four. You wouldn't want a blowout while hauling something on that trailer.

Anyhoo...this was on Monday afternoon/evening. On Tuesday morning at 6:00, Hick said:

"What did YOUR PEOPLE think of my tire?"

"It is 6:00 in the morning! And you just told me about your tire last night. I don't know how fast you think I work. I'm not some overnight breaking news service! I don't send out notices to MY PEOPLE immediately after you do something. I haven't even loaded the picture, or written a story."

"Oh. Well. You stay up late..."

So even though the tale of Hick's blowout wasn't planned for today, here it is. I wouldn't want to keep Hick waiting. He needs immediate feedback. Even though there's not really any advice you can give, or way to help him change that tire. Maybe he simply wants sympathy.