Renovating the Production Line of Val's Proposed Handbasket Factory

Whew! It's been a while since any progress was made on my proposed handbasket factory. The reasons are twofold. Maybe, quite possibly, Val's faith in humanity has increased just a skosh. But mainly, Hick was busy with first his Storage Unit Store, then the $5000 house.

Is there a single incident that has spurred Val to re-think her proposed handbasket factory? YES. It seems that the climate in Not-Heaven might be cooling! Not so much that the people in Not-Heaven will want hot chocolate instead of ice water. But enough that the handbaskets they might purchase for their journey, from Val (the exclusive Backroads dealer in handbaskets), will need insulation. What, you may ask, has caused this pressing need?

HICK LOOKED AT T-HOE'S MIRROR!

Oh, come on. It's not like he looked into Medusa's eyes and turned to stone. Not that noteworthy. But still, a groundbreaking milestone since I first informed Hick of the mirror malfunction ONE MONTH ago. At first he agreed to spray some graphite into the mechanism, but promptly forgot that promise the next day. Further interrogation inquiries led to Hick's statement of:

"Val. It's just a plastic gear. If one of the ears gets worn, it's not going to work. I don't know what you think I can do about it. Maybe tonight I'll drive it over to the BARn and see if I can loosen it up."

Of course that never happened. So imagine my surprise yesterday, when Hick volunteered to take a look at T-Hoe's mirror. He was sitting on the porch when I came home with the weekly groceries. He came to the garage to help carry them, and stopped at the passenger window on his way to T-Hoe's rear. He said,

"--- - -- ------ ---- -----"

That's what I understood. Since, you know, the window was up, and I couldn't hear a thing. I'd already turned off the ignition and squeezed my door handle to get out. Yet there Hick stood, blabbering silently. So I turned the key again to put the window down. THAT still works, anyway.

"I said if you leave the keys, I'll drive over to the BARn and take a look at your mirror."

I almost felt a jolt as the earth momentarily stopped spinning on its axis. Of course I left the keys. Hick drove to the BARn and back before I was done putting away the groceries. I'm not sure why it took him a month carry out such a time-consuming task.

"The gears are stripped. I'll ask Mick the Mechanic about it."

No timeline on when this will happen, but I am cautiously optimistic. Of course, such a chore will undoubtedly keep Hick from renovating the production line of my proposed handbasket factory. For now.