So, since The Pony and I want to watch our last episode of Big Brother together at 7:00, at the Holiday Inn Express, before he moves into his dorm on Thursday between 1:00 and 2:00...I have scheduled this little tale of Hick's excesses for you this evening.
On Sunday as I headed for the garage, I noticed a new bit of other people's junk on our side porch. It was still there mid-morning on Monday, when I left the homestead
Oh, it may look like a soiled fake-sheep-skin foot warmer/vibrator. But it's really our cat, Simba. The one who almost lost his eye in a fight with some unknown critter. The cat Hick nursed back to health by chasing him with a puff-powder bottle of cat eye medicine. Like he said, "The first time was easy." The rest, not so much.
I'm sure Hick would be touched that Simba is using his $3 Goodwill shoeshine box as a crib. Or not. Because Hick must be slipping. When I asked what this new bit of other people's junk WAS, he said, "Just a stool."
Hick must have heard me bantering with The Pony, who was relaying my interrogation up the stairs while I remained ensconced on my rolly chair in front of New Delly in my dark basement lair. Because I heard Hick yell, "Well, they had it labeled as a shoeshine box!" Like Hick doesn't know a shoeshine box from a stool! There must have been at least five or six episodes of Antiques Roadshow about one, after all these years. So I don't know why Hick was holding out on me as to what this new bit of other people's junk is.
The only thing I could say for sure, though, is that this new bit of other people's junk sure looks like it's good for a catnap.