The Bait Debate

Hick has a knack for being absent when I have groceries that need to be carried in. No matter how I try to time my shopping trip for his arrival at home, he manages to evade that task. Hick says he alway gets home around 5:00. Even though it might be 3:30, or 8:30. If only there was something like a cell phone that could text his ETA...

Anyhoo... on Sunday evening, I had just carried in six bags of groceries when Hick came waltzing through the kitchen door. Waltzing with glee, almost as if he knew he had once again missed the grocery window.

"Huh. Funny how you always get here RIGHT AFTER I've carried in the groceries. If I had known you were so close, I would have left them in the car for you to carry."

"Sorry. I'm always home at 5:00."

"No. That's how I plan. Would it kill you to let me know what time you might actually get here? Those bags were heavy! I had these two jars of pickles, and a bunch of bananas, and this other stuff. I needed onions, but I didn't want any extra heavy bags to carry."

"That reminds me... I need some more taffy. Them people eat it up."

? Not sure how onions are related to taffy. Except the taffy is in the main aisle by the produce section in 10Box. Where Hick has only been twice, I think.

"The people? Or YOU?"

"I eat some of it. But they all love it. Except one kid today, who said he didn't like it."

"Did you tell him to feel free not to eat it?"

"No. His dad gave it to him. He was only about four."

"So you use the taffy to lure in customers. Do you put it away overnight, and during the week when you're not there?"

"No. I leave it out."

"Leave it out??? In a bowl?"

"No. It's in a beer pitcher."

"Without a lid? Aren't you worried that a rat might get into it?"

"No. It hasn't yet. Each piece is wrapped."

"Like a mouse or a rat can't chew through paper! I hope you don't get shut down for poisoning people!"

"I don't think that's going to happen."

Hick seems to be overly-trusting of the rodents that might be roaming around the storage unit lot.

The Creechers Are Back

I guess it's that time of year. The time when the Creek Creatures invade our enclave, to enjoy recreational activities in our creek. Don't get me wrong. Nobody OWNS a creek. Waterways are available for everybody. However... that doesn't mean the adjacent properties and private roads are fair game.

It's mid-May. Schools will be letting out soon. The weather is warming up. There's been a spate of activity down at the main low-water bridge, where people are parking in an area with signs that proclaim NO PARKING, and sitting on the edge of the bridge fishing, with some wading in the creek. Aside from their illegal parking, and the litter of water/soda/Gatorade bottles they leave on the ground, I suppose this activity is not something the county sheriff's deputies would pursue.

Now the Creechers are on OUR road. Like I said, they can play all they want in the creek. Legally. As long as they park their vehicles along the county road that their taxes maintain. It's when they drive a quarter-mile up into our enclave, and park on the gravel road that our parsimonious pockets pay for, that I have a problem. Also, they block one whole side of our gravel road. On a curve, no less!

Saturday on my way home, I saw two Creechers getting out of their small sedan, as I had to move into the oncoming traffic side of our gravel road on a curve, to avoid hitting their sedan. They looked around 18-20. Old enough to know better. The guy was wearing a tank top and cargo shorts. The girl was in booty shorts and a spaghetti-strap top. She held a seat-cushion type of flotation device. The guy was smirking as I drove by. They were headed for the little waterfall area on our creek.

I did not take a picture as I wanted. Val is no Karen. Still, taking a picture might have dissuaded them from a repeat visit. How about parking your dang sedan out on the blacktop road that your (or your parents') taxes pay for, and walking a quarter mile up the creek to get to this spot? Or maybe buy some land that borders on this creek? 

The landowners of our enclave did not buy their properties, nor pay taxes on them, and pay for road gravel, just so people they have no connection with can use this area for recreation or secret trysts.

People these days feel so entitled...

Another Room Done in Bargain House

When Hick finished the front bedroom in Bargain House, he then started on the back bedroom. "It mainly just needs the carpet ripped out, paint, and a closet. We should be able to knock that out in no time, and then another room will be done." Let the record show that Hick and Old Buddy only work on the house three hours a day, four days a week. It's not like they're pushing to get done in a hurry.

The first picture of the back bedroom Hick sent was on April 3rd.

I'm not sure this is the picture Hick meant to send me. He said, "Windows in back bedroom trimmed." I only see one window, and it isn't really trimmed. Unless you count the wood around the top and side, making it ready for painting. 

The next picture was April 9th. "Closet doors painted and installed back bedroom. Closet also painted on inside."

That looks pretty good for a closet. You can still see the carpet isn't torn out yet. The next picture on April 22 had carpet, also:

"Back bedroom painted and new door installed." Looks like Hick and Old Buddy didn't care about sloppy painting, since the carpet was their drop cloth!

On April 29th, Hick said, "Floor almost finished."

I like it. I really like it. As much as that Academy Award audience liked Sally Field. Also, you can see that Hick wasn't lying about the inside of the closet being painted. All this room needs it the trim, which was done the next day.

From April 30th: "Floor all done." Well. Except for that missing little strip of trim in the corner. I suppose Hick needed to cut a piece to fit. Also, you can see that indeed the window has been trimmed!

It was around this time that Hick noticed the problem with the sewer pipe outside, and started looking for a remedy.

Bargain House is coming along nicely.

A Hick's Work Is Never Done

The guy Hick hired to put in new sewer pipe at Bargain House, and connect it to the city sewer, completed his job last week. Here's what it looked like last Wednesday, after the first day:

The trench was dug, and the pipe installed. That's right behind Bargain House, as you can see. I don't know if it had been connected to the city sewer yet at this point. I'm not sure what day it was finished, but Hick sent me the pictures on Tuesday.

The purpose of going from the back of the house to the alley was to avoid digging up the paved street out front. Meaning that it was CHEAPER! Looks like Hick might need to spread some grass seed across that area. So he'll have more to mow, heh, heh! When he has his tractor in town, I imagine he'll smooth it out a bit first.

Now Hick has to connect the new pipes to the pipes under the house. He sounds like that will be a piece of cake, so to speak. You know how Hick loves cake.

That's what $2,200 gets you around Backroads, if you know the right guy. If you don't, it will cost you $3,600 just to put an auger into the ground and start digging around a sewer pipe...

And Just Like That, Even Steven Comes Sniffing Around

Too soon! Too soon! It's my own fault. I just HAD to share how I've been having a good run of luck lately. Now Even Steven has appeared to settle the score.

Tuesday, I did my errands which are regularly on Thursdays. That's because we are going out for a Mother's Day dinner. My first stop was the bank, where I take out our weekly cash allowance. Real money spends slower than plastic money, you know! I've bemoaned the loss of the drive-thru window since LAST OCTOBER. The bank's excuse always being that they don't have enough personnel to have the drive-thru open. It's only three lanes! And they could just have one of them open, not all three. You know, for lazy bad-kneed people such as Val who prefer to sit on their ample rumpuses, rather than stand while waiting.

Anyhoo... I parked T-Hoe in the handicap space, which is way down past the end of the building. There were only two cars parked out front, a white truck and a metallic SUV. What I saw when I hobbled through the door made my blood curdle.

SIX YOUNG LADIES in one line, and a Dude holding a green plastic woven basket full of money in the other line. Let the record show that only ONE teller was working. She had the line of six YLs. Dude was to the right of the door, leaning his back against the window wall of the vestibule. He had just asked the YLs if they were all together. I suppose to question whether he would be the next served, or if one of them would step over to the teller currently fiddling behind a NEXT REGISTER sign. The YLs answered in unison that they were all together, doing the same thing.

The YLs were tall, athletic-looking, 18-20, maybe. They reminded me of a college team that might have just gotten paid for hosting a camp or something. As I waited, I saw that each would put a check on the counter, sign something, and get money. I suppose they were cashing their checks. One was asked if she had her debit card with her. I don't think they were opening accounts.

Anyhoo... the NEXT REGISTER gal took a drawer and left to the safe. But a different gal came out of a back room and opened up that slot, while another lady closed herself in a back office with glass walls. Dude stepped up and said he was making a deposit.

"It's already counted."

"I'll have to put it through the money counter anyway."

Well. Great. I had picked the very worst time to show up at the bank. Who knew that the YLs had come in a clown car! And that somebody would bring in a basket of money! I leaned my ample rumpus against the glass wall of the vestibule vacated by Dude, and wondered whether I should just leave and come back. I had walked the length of the building already. Surely it couldn't take THAT long to count Dude's money.

Hear that? It's Even Steven, chuckling like Muttley.

I heard the money counter whizzing through the first of Dude's four bundles of bills. They were bound with paper, like when The Pony won his jackpot at the casino. I don't know how much money this was, but they were sizeable bricks. I'm guessing maybe 1000 bills in each one. You know, they had to be carried in a little basket.

Anyhoo... that money counting machine kept making a beep every now and then. The Teller would sigh. I guess she had to keep putting them back through, starting over. Meanwhile, two of the YLs did their business, and sat down in the chairs in the small lobby area, along with the lady who had driven them there. AND a man and woman who came in after me. I did not want to risk losing my turn, so I stood, marking my claim on being next after Dude. Another woman came in, and stood beside me.

The Teller came back to the front, and told Dude, "I'm going to need to hand-count this. You have a few $2 bills mixed in with the ones. Do you have a total you thought you were depositing?"

"Oh. I didn't know there were $2 bills in there! I had a total of $3,986."

"I will need you to verify this as I count them out in front of you."

I was ready to pull out my lovely lady-mullet upon hearing this! But I was already there. I didn't want to walk out and then come back. My knees were making that grindy sound every time I shifted. Twenty minutes had passed! The YLs got done before Dude. I'm sure the other customers were cursing me as I hobbled to that slot for my cash withdrawal.

This is where Even Steven almost passed out from wheezy-laughing so hard.

"I really miss your drive-thru."

"Oh. It's open! It opened last week. I just don't think anybody knows it yet."

"You mean if I would have driven around back today, I would have seen the green arrows?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, it's not like you have enough people here to wait on the drive-thru."

"Oh, I would have eventually gone over there. Just push the buzzer."

ALL THAT STANDING FOR NOTHING!!! I could have been ample-rumpusing, rather than standing! At least I'll know for next week.

The Universe Spreads the Luck

Aside from missing out on Reuben Day at the Senior Center, and simmering in self-pity from The Pony's decision, Val is having a pretty good month. There's the Double Hovel (impending) sale, Mother's Day with well-wishes, two non-self-cooked meals, cards, a box of chocolates... AND this winning scratcher.

That's a $100 winner on a $3 ticket that I got at the Gas Station Chicken Store on Monday. Guess I won't be buying that ticket again until next week! There are 99 tickets on a roll, and this was number 053. I guessing there won't be a bigger winner left. I try to be logical in my addiction to games of chance!

I bet that future tenant of Hick's apartments is also feeling lucky. The one who was the subject of the police phone call to Hick. Monday morning, Hick looked up his phone number, and called to tell him that the police had found his wallet, and were trying to contact him.

"I'm sure he was glad to hear that news!"

"Yeah. He said he had everything in it. I don't know what he meant by 'everything,' because he had his money in a bank envelope. But he was happy, and said he would go pick it up."

Let's hope that Even Steven doesn't come sniffing around for a while. I'm enjoying the ride while it lasts.

Don't Swear Out a Murder Warrant Just Yet

Let's not jump to conclusions. Val does not need her picture adorning the post office on the Most Wanted List just yet. Hick is still alive and kickin'. Val is not actively trying to kill him...

Sunday afternoon, I stopped at 10Box for a few things before getting my scratchers out of the machine. Those items were four bananas, six lemons, a bag of Sour Cream and Cheddar Potato Chips, and a box of Little Debbie Fudge Rounds. I had the Young Man Checker, who just turned 21 in January, according to the multi-colored-hair checker last week, who assured me that "all our boys are 21 now," when I said I avoided his line when buying Hick's Wild Turkey.

Anyhoo... YM Checker asked how I was doing. He's an entertaining kid, always friendly.

"Oh, I just had to get the necessities."

"Ha ha. I agree. Especially with THESE," he said, scanning the Little Debbie Fudge Rounds.

"Those are for my husband. He eats one every night."

"Oh, no! Does he have nightmares?"

"No. He has diabetes! He shouldn't be eating them at all..."

"Well, he might be having nightmares AND diabetes!"

"I know he shouldn't eat them, but he likes them so much. I'm not really trying to kill him. And who am I to deny him such a small pleasure?"

YM Checker agreed with me. He didn't try to take a picture for evidence while I was bagging my own groceries.