Does This Make Me the Negative-Five-Dollar Daughter?

Thursday mid-morning, Hick sent me a text asking if I wanted to go to our old favorite casino. You might think I jumped on that like Shirley Feeney on a cracker (at 4:13 of the clip) after a day of being a starving guinea pig to earn money for a party. But no. I told him I'd need to think about it, since my casino bankroll was depleted after out last trip.

Lucky for me I'm pretty lucky, and I'd won $75 on a five-dollar scratcher this week. Plus I still had most of my Oklahoma casino bankroll intact. So I said I'd go, and we ended up having a delicious burger for lupper (lunch/supper), with Hick losing some money, and me winning $220. That's PROFIT, people! I left with everything I took in, plus $220. Thanks, Quick Hits Riches Rising Bonus!

I should have known I was in for some odd shenanigans from The Universe, because it's been a long time since I was a winner at that casino.

We left at 4:00, with Hick trying out the new text feature for the valet to retrieve the car. He said it was just too darn hot at 100 degrees for us to walk in from the far lot. The valet crew was speedy enough on Hick's second try, because he assumed he'd requested the car, when in fact it told him that texting for the car might cost him money on his phone bill. Anyhoo...turns out once you text, you have to SHOW THAT TEXT to the valet window, so it seems to me like it doesn't save you all that much time.

Anyhoo...Hick took the old highway home, from the casino to his work town, because he planned on stopping at Goodwill. We were barely down the road a piece when Hick brought up his latest object of desire, a new safe for the homestead. I'm of the opinion that since we already have TWO safes, each bigger than a dishwasher, one weighing 700-800 pounds, and the other a couple thousand pounds...that Hick should just give me the combinations, and call it good. Hick declared that if we get a new one, he will sell the other two.

"We need to find the combination to your mom's safe."

The verbal period was still hanging in the air after Hick's statement, when on the radio came that song I associate with Mom: "How Can I Help You Say Goodbye" by Patty Loveless. We just looked at each other. Which was kind of scary, with Hick piloting A-Cad down undivided 4-lane blacktop. It was like that time we talked about how sorry we were for making fun of Mom's 4WD that she didn't use, after finding out it hadn't worked all along, and that song came on. Scoff all you will, but what are the odds of that timing?

Later that night, I typed up Friday's blog post about speed limit (sighs) signs, which had a mind of its own with a time stamp of 11:11, and took several tries to publish.

Friday I found a penny.

Friday night, I fell asleep in my OPC (Old People Chair) and had a dream about Mom and Dad, visiting me in a college town, me thanking them for coming and having a great time going out to dinner. They were walking away from me, not answering. Mom was going down a narrow sidewalk, only wide enough for one, and I was trying to catch up to her. Funny how in this dream, they were dressed like the early 1950s, Mom in wide-legged pants and a jacket, with a headscarf, looking like something Lucille Ball might have worn. On I Love Lucy. Not as that unfortunate brass Bad Lucy statue. Dad was slim as his high school basketball-playing days, wearing slacks and a jacket from that time period, with a short haircut. Though he was preoccupied, talking on a cell phone at his left ear, walking in the grass on the left side of Mom.

I was enjoying that dream quite a lot, when I was jolted awake by a heavy THUMP upstairs, in the area of the hallway between the boys' rooms. Right by my mom's piano, and the wall of pictures that includes one of her and Dad. That set my heart to pounding. It was around 3:00 a.m., but I was still groggy, and wanted to drift back into that dream. Which never happens, you know, but I almost made it when there was another THUMP upstairs, this time closer to Genius's bedroom door.

Usually these noises are a bit disconcerting, but I don't really feel afraid, or gather comfort from them. They're just weird. But this time, they creeped me out. It's like there was a Mom-blocker keeping me from my dream. I knew it was time to go up to bed, but I fiddled around flipping channels for about 15 minutes, because I didn't want to go up where the noises had come from.

Once in bed, I had just fallen asleep when Hick grabbed the side of my head like a basketball. Palmed it! Then he pulled his hand back. It was annoying, but there's no use yelling at Hick in his sleep. I had to, though, after the third time he karate-chopped me in my lower back. The last one almost pushed me out of bed. I reached back to grab his arm, but it wasn't there. He's a tricky one, that Hick. He didn't wake up when I complained, and on Saturday, he denied any contact, or knowledge of thrashing. I'm sure it was him, though.

Pretty sure.

Saturday, I found another penny at my first stop, Orb K. I made my rounds, cashing in scratchers and buying new ones (cumulative loss of $5). I should have known I wouldn't win anything. There were NO good songs on the 11 radio stations I flip through. The closest to a good one was "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey. It's one that I like, and I hear it every few days. It was the first thing on the radio when I left home. I usually jot down the good songs on a note card, and cue them up on Spotify to listen to while I'm scratching tickets and perusing the innernets, since I don't usually get the whole song while I'm out in town. Seems like the more good songs I have on my list, the better my scratchers fortune.

Here I was, sitting at the stop light, on the way home, and I'd only heard one good song. I was daydreaming about my night dream, flipped across the stations, and settled on Prime Country...and "How Do I Help You Say Goodbye" came on.

That was two days of the darnedest coincidences...