The Auction Return

If these are the best things Hick could find to buy at the auction, I can understand why he hasn't gone for so long! Sure, his prize find was that gigantic Mississippi Mud Cake for $25. That's not something you find every day, and not something most people would buy.

The first picture he sent from the auction was this:

"Bought railroad light and a couple other things."

"Reminds me of a kerosene heater."

Hick did not reply. But did confirm later that this railroad light runs on kerosene. He did not mention who that hand belongs to, steadying the light on his leg. Nor did he elaborate on the "other things" that I think are sitting between his feet. It looks like a professional sports themed wastebasket, for the Arizona Cardinals. I can't tell what's inside.

The other item Hick sent a picture of was this, with no comment:

It is a cross-section of a log, with a message burned into the wood. No idea of Hick's plans for this, but I suspect it might be on our front porch. Or maybe it will demand a place of honor INSIDE our hillbilly mansion. Hick was quite tickled with this acquisition. He paid $2 for it, which is surely a bargain for such a slice of home decor. He paid $22 for the railroad light.

I imagine Hick will go back to the auction, if for no other reason than to look for a tasty dessert.

Stop the HICKsanity!

Hick went to the auction Monday night. It's been many months since he's been there. Nothing special was advertised for it. He just wanted to go. He sent me a couple of pictures of items he bought. You'll see them tomorrow. Today, you can share my shock at Hick's other purchase.

Hick got home around 8:30. He walked through the door holding something across his forearms. At first, I thought he must have gotten a gift from his Harem earlier in the day, while collecting rents. But no. It was something from the auction.

"What's that? Did your Harem give you treats?"

"No. It's a cake. I bought it at the auction. It was a fundraiser, so I gave them $25 for it. The guy who bought the thing ahead of me gave $100!"

A Mississippi Mud cake. My mom used to make them. Hers looked much better than this one, which appeared a bit anemic to me. Mom's was darker, with glossy icing, and a thick layer of marshmallow just under it, before the cake.

This cake had a really thick layer of icing, which looks as if it came right out of the plastic can. Not that there's anything wrong with that... Also, the marshmallow might have been marshmallow creme that melted out during cooking, because it's across the bottom of the pan. I could see a tiny sliver of white between the icing and cake, but it doesn't show in this picture.

The cake was H U G E !!! It's in an 11 x 15 inch glass baking dish! The innernets say such a dish serves 8-12 people. Hick is only ONE person!

This auction cake takes up almost the entire bottom shelf of FRIG II. You can see Little Debbie peeking up from the drawer below, on a box of Hick's snack cakes. Behind her is a glimpse of Hick's box of Mounjaro. 

I'll leave it at that.

The Loot in Its Natural Habitat

Hick went back to the city last week to pick up cabinets from the laundry room of the rich guy doing kitchen renovations. It was just Hick and Old Buddy on this trip. Hick was a bit irritated with Good Buddy.

"He's always gotta be in a hurry. We was carrying out them cabinets, and he shoved me backwards. I hurt my hip and my knee."

To be fair, Hick was already wearing a knee brace on that knee. So it's not like Old Buddy was such a brutish monster. Hick's fragility contributed. 

Anyhoo... Hick didn't have a picture of the cabinets for me after unloading. But he had the one he took of them in the rich guy's house.

They are really nice cabinets! That's a marble top on the lowers. I'm pretty sure the washer and dryer are NOT part of the deal. But still, the cabinets are great.

I'm not sure of Hick's plans for these cabinets. My blood ran cold when he said, "They would be great for the laundry room in Cheap House."

That is not good news to me. Cheap House is supposed to be a bare-bones quick flip!

Baby Steps in Cheap House

The only thing that got done in Cheap House last week was done by Hick, alone. At first I overestimated his handiwork.

"So you put an archway in between the kitchen and the living room?"

"No. The archway was already there. I just put up some drywall to make it smaller. That's because I need the space on the wall beside it to put a refrigerator."

Doesn't sound to me like a man who is only putting up basic walls so a fellow flipper can see the plan for the house...

Anyhoo... this view was taken by standing in the kitchen. The arch goes into the living room, which used to be a bedroom. It's at the back of Cheap House, where the exterior door is. Where the old back porch was torn off.

The area on the other side of the framed part is meant to be a laundry room, I think. It doesn't look big enough to be a front bedroom.

I hope more progress can be made on SOMETHING in either flip house this week.

Friday Night Free-For-All, Courtesy of Hick's Harem

Hick's Harem left him alone last week. It was NOT the start of a trend.

Hick was home at 4:00 on Friday. He must have spent less time shooting the bull with his cronies, in his excitement to get home an wait for the season premiere of his Gold Rush show at 7:00. He went outside with the dogs for an hour. Then went to have a shower so he could sit around in tighty-whites and have supper in his recliner, then watch his show.

While he was in the shower, I heard his phone ringing in the living room. He returned the call when he got out at 5:20. I was getting ready to fix his supper when I heard him giving instructions on the phone.

"The easiest way is to get the key downstairs in the EMT box. It's inside, but by the front door. A little black box. There's a master key in it. Just punch in the code. It's [# # # #]. Then please put the key back, in case somebody else needs it. Okay? All right. Thank you, Ma'am."

That seemed overly polite. But you know Hick and his Harem. Soon enough, every one of them will have lost their key, if for no other reason than to get Hick's attention on a Friday night!

"Let me guess. It was your Harem."

"No. Well. Actually, it was one of my guys. The one who likes to drink. He's locked out. That was his daughter. He called her to see what to do, and she called me."

"Will she be able to find the key?"

"She should. She's a teacher. With your sister's daughter Niecy. Or at least she knows Niecy. She said that when I was showing them the apartment a while back."

At 5:30, the Hick's phone rang again. I figured the "teacher" was having trouble with the key. But no. I could hear a buzzer blaring, from Hick's loud volume, or coming out his other ear.

"Yeah. I can hear it. Somebody's pulled the fire alarm. I'll have to come over and turn it off. There's no smoke, right? No sign of a fire? Well, just hang on and I'll be there as soon as I can."

"I bet it was that daughter looking for the key!"

"They're in different places, Val. I don't know WHO did it."

"Your Harem. It IS Friday night..."

Hick said that call was another one of his four men tenants. He rushed to put on shorts and a shirt. The drive to the apartments takes 23 minutes.

At 6:20, Hick called to say he was on his way home. I started his supper. He got home in time to fill his plate and sit down for his show.

"It was the old man. The daughter told him how to get the master key. When I got there, he said, 'I pulled on it but didn't get a key.' He had pulled the fire alarm!"

"Is it by the key box? Does it look the same?"

"It's about two feet under the key box. It's a regular fire alarm!"

"You mean like a red thingy on a school wall, where you have to pull the bar to set off the alarm. And says IN CASE OF FIRE?"

"Yeah. And the key box is about 2 inches by 4 inches, and black, with a number panel on the front. I guess he got confused. He seemed sober to me."

"Were the other people mad at him?"

"I don't know. But the one gal helped everybody get down the stairs and out of the building. The elevators shut down for a fire alarm. I called my boss on the way over there, to tell him. And asked him to call the fire chief and tell him there was no fire, before he called in 14 fire departments from other towns! I didn't want to deal with him complaining to me!"

There's no such thing as an uneventful Friday night for Hick. The male harem must have been feeling slighted, and has taken to using tactics of Hick's regular Harem.

Hardly Happenings

Very little was done on either flip house this week. As I mentioned before, Hick has been home by 2:00 every day, and took Tuesday off to drive to the city for some cabinets. Then on Thursday he was blindsided by Old Buddy, who had "forgotten" to tell Hick that he had jury duty, and was chosen!

"He said he hated it. That he didn't want to sit in a courtroom all day. But you know he's loving it. He gets out of working for me, and he feels important, and he'll get jury duty pay. He loves having jury duty like a kid loves candy!"

Hick got a call from a lunch lady at the Senior Center on Thursday afternoon. At first I thought it was one of his Harem, because he was being really nice and polite. He said no, just one of the cooks, complaining about a smell. The meal program is in the bottom level of the apartment building. She said something smelled dead. Hick said he was aware, and that he had spent all day Wednesday looking for the source, which seems to be on the third floor. It's not a PERSON, thank goodness. But Hick can't figure out what or where it is. He mentioned the possibility of something being stuck in the chimney. Like a squirrel or raccoon. I don't know how he's going to figure it out. I suppose it will eventually stop stinking.

Just like the flip houses will eventually be ready to list for sale.

YOU Tell ME

Somebody's sellin', and I ain't buyin' it!

Here we go again. Another period of extra scammers who are trying to test Val's patience. I don't know who's responsible for doling out my phone and email like cheap candy on October 31st. 

Every night (technically early morning) between 12:00 and 1:00 a.m., I get an email from some gal with an insurance agency wanting me to remember to DocuSign a form. No thank you, Ma'am. Even though it's a company with which we do flip house business, it is not in your state, and you are not our agent. Also, my name is not Robert. And why can't you at least operate during standard business hours?

This Robert guy must be forking out money all over the place. I get emails saying that a car dealership has not received the documents he was supposed to send them. That's in South Carolina. Maybe it's about his insurance, heh, heh!

Anyhoo... I also get calls, which are easier to ignore. If I don't answer, I don't wonder what it's all about. There's one number that keeps calling. It's from my supplemental health insurance. I know, because sometimes they leave a message telling me to call them back.

AS IF! Now the dang telemarketers want ME to do THEIR work! After so many years of actually answering, only to find out they want to push some "benefit" like mail order prescriptions, and don't want to take NO for an answer... I quit wasting my time answering. Here's the thing, which I explained to them. I live a mile up a gravel road. I don't trust my 90 days of prescriptions to actually reach me when I need them. My mail is not secure. Anybody driving by can help themselves. 

Anyhoo... the health insurance company calls several times a day. Usually when I'm driving. They called early a couple days ago, before I left for town. I answered, my intention to tell them I was not interested, and to stop calling me.

"Hello? I'm with Your Health Insurance, and I'm calling to speak with Val Thevictorian."

"This is Val."

"I know that your birthdate is [Month/Day]. Can you please give me the year to verify your identity?"

"No. You have all the information. I shouldn't need to tell you."

"Well. I am required to ask you that to make sure I don't release any medical information to the wrong person."

"YOU called ME. So you already know that. I'm not giving out that information. What do you need to talk to me about?"

"I can't tell you that without verifying your identity."

"You send me statements in the mail, and offers and notices. Anybody could open them. I figure if it's something important, you can mail it to me. So I guess we're done talking, because I'm not giving you my birth year. No need to stay on the phone or call me again. You have a nice day."

A couple minutes later, I got an email about the Silver Sneakers program. The email didn't ask for my birth year. It was my LAST CHANCE to sign up and take online classes about moving my body.