The Hickness

Hick has been shot. Shot by a flu vaccine on Wednesday afternoon when he stopped by his pharmacy to pick up prescriptions. Since a couple were not ready, he decided to use his waiting time to get a flu shot.

Friday morning, Hick woke up with the sniffles, saying he didn't feel well. Did that keep him from rushing down to his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2) to open up for business four hours, before heading to the Senior Center for lunch? And then to his doctor's office for a weekly injection? And then to sit around a shop and shoot the bull with his cronies? NO. It did not. But you already knew that, I'm sure.

Apparently, The Hickness did not affect Hick's appetite. He ate his lunch:

Tacos

South of the Border Salad

Refried Bean Bake

Crackers

Variety of Desserts

In fact, Hick ate one AND A HALF lunches! He said "One of the gals didn't want the rest of hers, so she offered it to me." Heh, heh! Just like school lunches...

Anyhoo... Hick spent Saturday evening in his recliner, sneezing and snarfing and blowing his nose. I've been giving him a daily vitamin gummi with elderberry, vitamins C and D, and zinc. He doesn't have a cough right now, so I'm hoping he'll fight off The Hickness sooner rather than later. 

It's been a while since Hick was sick. I'm guessing he picked up somebody's germs while hanging out inside the pharmacy. SICK people go there, you know! Surely he hasn't caught the flu from the flu shot...

_______________________________________________________________

UPDATE: 

On Sunday evening, I asked Hick how his "cold" was coming along. 

"It's gone! I feel fine."

Well, he's WELCOME! For me giving him that gummi vitamin for three days. It will be a daily thing from now through the winter months. You can't go wrong by boosting your immune system.

________________________________________________________________

The Double Hovel Dance

Shake a leg, people! The Double Hovel Dance is one step forward, and two steps back!

The forward step is that on Saturday, Hick had a message from Realtor indicating that she had showed the Double Hovel to prospective buyers. 

The first step back is that Realtor said our property was not really what they were looking for, and that they had tried the sink in the Beauty Shop, and the water leaked out of the sprayer. Not a big deal, and nice to know. Hick said he would check it out. This is not a new sink, but one Hick bought as a used bargain. So it's conceivable that the sprayer might not be in the best condition. 

Aside from that, I'll be darned if I'd ever make an appointment with a realtor to view a house that was "not really what I was looking for." Not-Heaven's bells, people! Hick and I are adults. We can pull up our big-girl panties and accept whatever criticisms the prospective buyers had of our property. Bedrooms too small? Not enough room? Price too high? Just spit it out!

Anyhoo... the second step back is that upon viewing her website, I discovered that Realtor had the AUDACITY to list another multi family property, at a price less than ours, with a main house and TWO efficiency dwellings!!! Can you believe it??? Heh, heh! How dare she attempt to earn a living when her main priority should be selling OUR property! At least I smugly rest assured that ours is a prettier, classier option, according to the pictures. That pig needs much more lipstick.

Seriously. Nothing major going on. We're just happy to know that the Double Hovel is getting interest, even though we are not notified of each showing. This new multi family dwelling might attract attention, and the interested parties will surely be notified of ours as well.

Still Pretty Sure That My Imminent Demise Is Being Attempted By Hick

Thursday morning at 9:30, I was sitting on the short couch, minding my own business, watching People Puzzler and writing my weekly letter to Genius. The dogs started barking in a frenzy. Their STRANGER bark, like when UPS or FedEx shows up. The only package I'm expecting was due to arrive between Friday and Monday. Still, I hoisted my rumpus off the couch, and hobbled to the door. By the time I got there, the barking had transferred from in front of the house over to the Shackytown Boulevard area.

Looking out, I saw the tails of all three dogs (well, Scarlett's stub tail was not quite visible at that distance) raised like flags as they proceeded down Shackytown Boulevard to the BARn field. Parked by Hick's burn pile was a two-tone brown Chevy pickup.

A MAN WAS WALKING ACROSS THE FIELD! AS I WATCHED, HE LEANED OVER TO GRAB HICK'S JUNK!

What in the Not-Heaven??? I closed the door and went to get my phone to call Hick.

"Is anybody supposed to be over in the BARn field right now?"

"No. Not that I know of. There shouldn't be."

"There's a guy in a brown truck parked by your burn pile, and he's walking over by your junk pile."

"Go ask him what he's doing?"

"Really? Are you sure? I can't walk over there. I'm here by myself. The dogs are going crazy."

"Just yell from the door, and see what he does."

"Okay..."

So off I went to the front door, my holey sweatpants falling down, to holler: "HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING OVER THERE?"

The guy yelled something I couldn't understand, because of the dogs barking. Of course that made Jack and Scarlett run over to jump on me at the porch, while Copper Jack the neighbor dog followed along behind the guy who was WALKING TOWARDS ME!

Guy was wearing camouflage pants, and a brownish-gray t-shirt with the sleeves cut off. That itself might strike fear into city-dwellers, but it's almost a redneck uniform around here. As he got closer to the porch, Guy said:

"Hick told me I could burn my copper out here."

"Oh. Well. I just talked to him, and he said nobody was supposed to be over there. So I'm just trying to find out what's going on."

"Yeah. I'm the one who fixed your water leak by the well, and finished Hick's brick sidewalk over there. And he said when I wanted to, I could burn my copper."

"Well... I guess that's all right."

"Here. This is probably him now. Yeah. I'm out here, and talking to her right now."

Indeed. Guy's phone DID ring. He said it was Hick. So I said I was sorry for the trouble, but just wanted to know who he was.

I went back inside. The dogs, now best friends with Guy, followed him quietly back to the burn pile. I called Hick.

"Yeah. I forgot I told him he could burn the copper. It was a while back. He didn't tell me he was coming today. But it's fine."

"I really wish you would tell me these things, before I have a heart attack, or embarrass myself yelling at somebody like a crazy woman, holding up my pants with one hand, and fighting off the dogs with the other."

"Yeah. I should have told you. But it's okay."

That's what HE says...

An Offer Has Been Presented

On the way to town Wednesday, I met Hick in SilverRedO in front of the BARn field. He stopped and said the realtor had called him with an offer on the Double Hovel flip house(s).

"It was [71 percent of the asking price]. Realtor said they supposedly had a government loan, which was odd because those don't loan money on two houses. She hadn't seen the actual paperwork. Another realtor showed the house, and called with the offer. Realtor asked if I wanted to give a counter-offer, and I said no. That's too far from the asking price."

"Yeah. It might work for somebody who has money tied up in payments for it. We're in no hurry. It's only costing us about $50 a month total, for electricity and water."

I called The Pony with that news. The Pony agreed that the offer was too low. And was pleased, as I was, because now we know that people are actually asking for a walk-through of the Double Hovel. Somebody will want it. We both think it will be an investor planning to rent both houses. 

Realtor called Hick later in the evening, and said that after reviewing the paperwork, the prospective buyer didn't have a valid loan, because the Double Hovel does not qualify for that type of loan. So there's that. But at least our little pigs were desired by somebody enough that they went through the motions.

Hick Chickens Out

Hick has been spending his days working on his SUS2.5, the new storage unit he's converting into a store. Because, you know, one is not enough. He kept this pretty hush-hush for a while. Not that it concerns me, since it's HIS money he's investing into the materials and the wiring. The only thing I have to do is pay his electric bill. I hate this! We are now getting SIX electric bills. One for our house, one for the BARn, two for the Double Hovels, and now two for Hick's SUSs. Oh, and I also have to sort out and pay the credit card bills for Lowe's and Menards, and keep track of Hick's business expenses and make sure he reimburses our household fund.

Anyhoo... it keeps Hick out of the house all day. Gives him somewhere to go. Keeps him off the streets. I'm free to go about my usual routine until the bills come in for me to pay. 

Part of my usual routine is to peruse Hick's Senior Center Menu to see if they are serving any foods I might like. Is that so wrong? Val does not ask for much. She's not an extravagant spender. No shoe collection, no fancy clothes, no jewelry, no manicures, no pedicures, or hair stylists for the lovely lady-mullet. I just like Hick to bring me home a meal from the Senior Center once, maybe twice, a month.

Tuesday was CHICKEN SALAD!

Chicken Salad

On Bun

Potato Salad

Pickled Beets

Hilda's Brownies OR Fruit

Monday night, I asked Hick if he would bring me home a Chicken Salad meal for my supper. Without beets!

"I don't know if I'll have time to get over there. I wouldn't have gone today if I knew they were just having hamburgers. I could have got that myself at McDonald's down the road! The $5 meal. I don't like the fries at the Senior Center. They're always cold and soggy."

"So you won't get it for me?"

"Well, I have to see how the time is going. Because I'll have to call it in. But if I can't make it in time, I don't want to call it in."

"So you're pretty much telling me you won't get me the Chicken Salad."

"I don't know yet, Val! I'll have to see how the time is going."

Tuesday morning at 5:45, I asked Hick again.

"If you know you're not going to bring me Chicken Salad, just tell me! Then I can plan on something else to have for my supper."

"Like I said, I don't know yet..."

Seriously. Like that would make me think I had a chance? Hick was just stringing me along. Why did he have to be such a chicken??? Rip that bandaid off, and tell me: YOU'RE NOT GOING TO HAVE CHICKEN SALAD FOR SUPPER!

Guess what? Turns out Hick did not have time to go to the Senior Center to get my Chicken Salad. But on Wednesday, he sure had time to go and have Meat Loaf!

Meat Loaf

Augratin Potatoes (their spelling)

Green Beans

Roll

Coconut Cake OR Fruit

No. I didn't even ask. I don't like Meat Loaf. In two weeks, they're having REUBEN SANDWICHES on a Friday. I'm wondering what the excuse will be then...

Travels With My Placard: The Kindness of Handicapped Strangers

Upon leaving Casey's after my "knee is the new baby" chat with a random gal, I headed to 10Box to get bananas, bread, slaw mix, Beanee Weenies, mozzarella sticks, toilet paper, and paper towels. Oh, and of course tickets from their lottery machine.

ALL THE HANDICAP PARKING SPACES WERE TAKEN!!!

Not only that, but all the front-row parking spaces were taken. As well as the eight spaces on the closest ends of the perpendicular parking rows. I looped around and parked in the middle of a row, watching for someone to leave. Great! A lady came out and got in a little gray SUV in one of the end spaces. T-Hoe was still running. As soon as she drove past me, I pulled into the lane to drive down and get that space.

What in the Not-Heaven? A maroon SUV came down the main aisle, and pulled right into that space! Dang it! I wasn't close enough yet to try and claim it. Didn't have the signal on. First come, first parked! It was fair enough. Just bad luck for me.

But wait! As I was looping around again, a truck parked nose-to-nose with that usurper started backing out. I nabbed that space forthwith! All I had to do was hobble across the main driving area, and between the cars already parked in the handicap spaces. And look at that! A lady was returning her cart, but rather than push it inside to the inconvenient cart corral halfway down the store, she parked it in front of the doors! I could grab that one, rather than make the extended journey to get my own inside.

I was shuffling across the white-diagonal-striped area between cars (big enough for a whole other handicap space, which it USED to be before the remodel) when a lady on her way into the store took my rightful cart! Would this bad luck ever end???

I saw a man come out pushing a cart. I knew he was "family." A member of the handicap family! Because he only had one little bag in his cart, yet was still pushing it out of the store rather than carrying it. He must have recognized ME as "family" as well.

"Would you like this cart?" He said as he lifted out the small bag.

"Yes! Thank you so much! There was one parked here when I started over, but a lady beat me too it because I was so slow!"

He laughed heartily, told me to have a good day, and limped to his car door, parked in the closest handicap spot right beside me.

When I came out, the four handicap spaces closest to the door were all empty.

Travels With My Placard: Knee Is the New Baby

I was unhappy to see a white sedan in the lone handicap space at the Backroads Casey's on Sunday. No handicap plate. I did not see a placard hanging from the mirror, but it's possible there was a card lying on the dashboard. I don't make it a habit of peering inside a vehicle, lest there be somebody sitting in there giving me the stinkeye right back!

Anyhoo... I parked on the far side of it, giving me a little curb to step over to get on the sidewalk. Not a big deal, because I can hold onto the side of T-Hoe for balance. As I stepped down out of T-Hoe, my right kneecap went a bit wonky as it sometimes is wont to do, making my first few steps more halting than usual as the painful chips inside worked their way back into place.

Two women came out the door, walking towards that white sedan. They seemed about my age. Perhaps a couple years younger. Fit as fiddles, each carrying a cup of coffee. The Gal coming to the passenger side waited on the sidewalk for a minute as I closed T-Hoe's large door out of her way. Then she still stood.

"I'll give you the right-of-way!"

"Thanks. I've got a bad knee, so it takes me a minute."

"You need to get that fixed! It's like when your car has something wrong with it. The longer you drive it, the worse it will get. Have you considered knee replacement?"

[Such an interest in my health, This Gal! And I didn't dare tell her that my car DOES have something wrong with it, that my husband keeps "forgetting" to get fixed.]

"Yes, I've thought about it, but I'm just too afraid of the surgery."

"I had it done. What you need to do is take your pain meds before doing your knee exercises. That will help you get through it."

"My friend had a knee replacement, and said they put a contraption on her leg that bent her knee to exercise it."

"Yes. Have you had a baby?"

"Yes."

"Just think of how painful that was, but you got through it. And think of how great it was afterwards. The pain was over, and you had something to be happy about. Same with the knee replacement."

"Heh, heh! I even did it twice! You've given me something to think about."

The other lady had turned on the car. I assume she was trying to signal her buddy to GET IN so they could leave. Yet while I was inside waiting to be waited on, that white sedan just sat there. Oh, no! Was This Gal going to start talking to me again when I went out? For once, I didn't mind that the cashier was taking his time with another customer. Finally that white sedan left. What a relief.

I know This Gal was just trying to be nice. Or maybe trying to distract me from the fact that they were parked in the handicap space. Perhaps legally. Perhaps not.

A Bargain Is Not Always a Bargain

Hick and The Pony and I are still looking for another flip house. We saw one a couple days ago for the low, low price of $18,500. Hick knows how to work on houses, and has a helper who works for cheap. So he drove by to take a look. 

This will NOT be our next project!

I was skeptical when I saw that there were 11 pictures, but none of the interior.

"It might be a hoarder house. Or it might be trashed. There's a reason why they only show the exterior. And IT'S not that great! Cracks in the foundation and porch. Looks rough."

 

Still, Hick took a drive by there on his way home from his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2) on Sunday.

"I don't think that house is worth it. All the windows are broken. And there's a cat living in the attic! It came out onto the roof while I was looking."

Yeah. We'll pass on that one. Hick is kicking himself for not going to look at the previous house The Pony and I urged him to check out. It's PENDING. Hick says there's still a FOR SALE sign in the yard, and that he's going to ask his realtor to check on its status. Don't cost nothin' for her to make a call.

The Pony Has a Repeat Tussle with a Canine

After a spate of calm, The Pony was once again accosted by a canine. I was not notified until after the fact, once The Pony was home and safe.

"Oh, yeah. Not to worry you, but I had a problem with a dog again. The dog I pepper-sprayed before was loose again and tried to bite."

"NOOOOO!"

"No actual bite. Just lines of spit from the teeth as I jerked the leg back to kick/smack it with my bag."

"Keep that spray handy! And knock the crap out of it with the bag!!! Show it who's boss while yelling 'NO!' Did you report it? Or do something with the dog card?"

"I did, yeah."

"That's about all you can do, I guess. I'm sorry you have to deal with this."

Not as severe as it could have been, since The Pony was able to get a picture of the culprit during (or after or before) the tussle.

Still, it was a good outcome for a bad situation. There oughta be a law... Oh, wait! There IS. Not sure how the city gets away with not enforcing the dog laws, when such incidents are reported almost daily by the post office supervisor.

It's Not For ME, It's For YOU

I am growing wearing of businesses trying to do me a favor. Let's face it. When was a business ever interested in helping customers, rather than themselves? As I used to tell my students after an obvious question: "Let me answer for you." The answer, in this case, is NEVER! Businesses are not in business to "help" the customers. They are in business to make money for themselves.

A couple days ago, I got an email from my electric company. They've been trying for many months to "persuade" us to switch our billing to some kind of "saver" option. Rate options, where we will be billed differently for daytime and nighttime hours. Supposedly helping ourselves by running the washer/dryer and dishwasher during "off-peak" times. 

Well. We have no dishwasher. We already do our laundry in the evenings. And the comparison graph they sent us showed that we would actually SAVE two dollars a month by keeping our billing as is, with the same rate charge over 24 hours. So why in the Not-Heaven would we want to switch? They did this automatically with our other accounts, like the two flip houses. Not a big enough deal to try and change it back, because we don't use that much electricity there, and hopefully won't have those properties much longer. 

Here are some quotes from that email:

SAVE BIG without lifting a finger. It's easy and rewarding to ease energy demand! ENROLL TODAY.

When you sign up for Peak Time Savings, your smart thermostat will make temporary adjustments to help ease energy demand. You won't have to lift a finger! And enrolling comes with a lot of bonuses--like a $50 enrollment bonus and an annual $25 appreciation bonus every year you stay enrolled. SIGN UP NOW.

REALLY? You want to PAY people to enroll in this program? What's in it for YOU? Let me give my opinion. This will only profit the electric company. I will have my AC or heat cut during a heavy energy usage time. So I'm "helping" by sweating or freezing as my regular thermostat settings are changed by my "smart" thermostat. Which will save money for the electric company.

Yesterday, I got a different email. It included an itemization of "Your Energy Use By Appliance." 

Always On.................................$15

Water Heating.............................$6

Refrigeration...............................$3

Cooking......................................$2

Laundry.......................................$1

Lighting.......................................$1

Here's the thing. This bill was $39.73, and it was for the BARn. The rest of the total is a fee for "summer usage." Yeah. There's also a fee for "winter usage" that will soon replace this one. It goes from one to the other. Apparently there are only two seasons for our electric company!

Let the record show that the BARn has no water heater. No running water at all! There IS a refrigerator. But no source of cooking. No source of laundry. The light is on the front of the BARn. And if Hick is working over there, he turns on the inside lights. So at least three of those six itemizations are a flat-out LIE!

I told Hick, and he said, "Well, they are just using percentages to justify the bill." What in the NOT-HEAVEN is that supposed to mean??? It's misleading! How can we trust anything they send us purporting to explain our actual electricity usage?

It's not like we are extravagant with our energy usage. In the house, whose bill is of course more expensive than that of the BARn, the thermostat is set on 74 degrees for the AC, and 70 degrees for heat. I prefer it to stay that way, and not be fiddled-with by a Smart Meter.

Hick Is No Role Model

When I left for town on Thursday, my errand day, I saw Hick over by the BARn at his burn pile, with smoke billowing. He waved, and I waved. I figured he was over there, since I smelled smoke when I stepped out the door, and the dogs did not come running.

While in town, I got a text from Hick.

"Im going to town to get a six pack of beer and then come home and get in the pool"

I was  bit surprised, because Hick has not had beer in a long time. He has a drink with Wild Turkey 101 maybe once a week. Sometimes twice a week. But not beer. AND, we've been having cool nights, sometimes in the 50s, and I thought Hick's pool days were done for the season. Public pools close after Labor Day, you know.

When I got home two hours later, Hick was indeed in POOLIO. I went to lean over the rail and interrogate talk to him.

"Do you have a snootful?"

"I had three beers."

"I only see two bottles down there."

"I had one on the way home."

"You CAN'T DO THAT!!! What do you think it is, the 70s?"

"I opened it after I checked the mailbox. On our gravel road."

"What sorrows are you drowning?"

"No sorrows. I'd been working all day on my new storage unit, and my feet hurt. I just wanted a beer."

"What evidence were you destroying on your burn pile?"

"Just the scraps from the insulation I trimmed to put in my new storage unit."

Well. That's a little different. I don't begrudge a working man his beer. It takes about three minutes to get from Mailbox Row to our driveway. I doubt Hick was under the influence by then. I doubt he had even finished a beer. He must have had that one while putting away his 12-PACK, and stripping down to get in POOLIO.

Anyhoo... Hick said POOLIO was a little chilly. I'm pretty sure that might be the last swim of the season. Oh, and if anybody is interested in Hick's beer preferences... it was Michelob Dry, in bottles.

DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE, PEOPLE!

The Pony Has a Cat. Kinda.

The Pony sent me a picture of "his" cat on Saturday. The Pony didn't realize he had a cat. At first it was just an occasional visitor. But lately, it's been on his back porch when he gets home from work. 

"The cat was on my porch again."

That doesn't mean The Pony is adopting the cat. When I went by on Sunday, the cat was back on the porch, after The Pony and I returned from a grocery trip.

"See? I don't worry that he's hungry, because he is not skinny. I thought he had a collar, but now it looks like he doesn't. He runs away before I can pet him."

"Huh. I guess he just likes laying up there on your table."

As we watched, the cat trotted across the back yard, and stopped on the little concrete pad where the remains of The Pony's pecan tree logs had been lying for a couple years. Hick just hauled them to a buddy's house a couple weeks ago.

"Look! It's like he's thinking about where his big log went! I bet he used to sit on that, too."

"He usually walks up that way, and goes down the alley. I guess that's where he actually lives, at one of the houses down there."

It's like having a pet, but without the responsibility. Well. Except for the lack of "petting."

Pictures of the Beauty Shop Have Been Added to the Double Hovel Listing!

When I checked around noon on Tuesday, the pictures of the Beauty Shop efficiency cottage half of the Double Hovel Flip House(s) had been added to the listing. There are now 41 pictures total. Of course I sent that info to The Pony and Hick. Both thought the pictures of the Beauty Shop turned out well. As did I. 

I've been vacillating over giving info on the actual listing. I don't really want to supply a link. I like my privacy. But Hick said it's fine with him! "Maybe someone will buy it!" Yeah. If any of you are inclined to invest in long-distance property, have at it!

Anyhoo... I don't want to link the realtor's website. But I CAN give you clues on how to find the Double Hovel. If you feel like sleuthing, you can go to Realtor.com. Then set the location for St. Francois County, MO (be careful of the correct spelling, heh, heh). Once the whole page loads, you can set the Property Type for Multi Family. That should bring up only a couple of properties, one of them being the Double Hovel. That will allow you to click on the pictures.

If you so desire, after looking through the pictures, you can go back and set that Property Type to House, and browse properties that might be comparable to the main house of the Double Hovel. Of course, having TWO houses should make our property more valuable.

Anyhoo... if you don't feel like going to all that trouble, fine with me! Eventually I might put up some pictures that Hick took of the innards of the Double Hovel. Remember, Hick is no "professional photographer...

What About the Elderlies???

Hick was looking forward to his lunch at the Senior Center on Monday. It was:

Glazed Ham

Sweet Potatoes

Brussel Sprouts

Roll

Peach Pie OR Fruit

He said that they indeed served the foods listed on the menu. I mentioned that his monthly menu said Tuesday would be:

Biscuits and Gravy

Eggs, sausage, bacon

Hash Browns

Scone

OJ

Hick LOVES to have breakfast for lunch. It's one of his favorite meals there. But when I said it was coming up, Hick said it was not to be!

"No. They're closed on Tuesday."

"WHAT? It doesn't say that on your menu."

"They're going to some conference in the city, so they're closed."

"All the cooks? And the people in charge? What are they going to learn, a new menu? Maybe you'll start getting different foods when they come back."

"I doubt it. They went to one last year, but everything stayed the same. It's just a day to goof off, if you ask me."

"What about all those old people? Will they have to go without food? It's so soon after the weekend!"

"I don't know. I guess some of them cook their own food..."

"How do they get it? They live above the Senior Center. They don't have cars. They're OLD! They don't know how to get DoorDash. They don't know how to call an Uber. Can they even walk across the street to that restaurant?"

"I know one of them can. She goes to the restaurant sometimes. One of them has her daughter bring her groceries. On the weekend, they get frozen meals. My buddy used to give one guy a meal to take up for supper for him and his wife. But after that last conference, he stopped. It was just the leftover meals that they freeze. But now he can't give them to him. That guy doesn't remember anything. Today they announced that they'd be closed tomorrow, and that guy went up and asked, 'Are you not going to be open tomorrow?'"

"Maybe he has Alzheimer's."

"He DOES!"

So now I'm worried about the elderlies going hungry for a day. They won't starve to death, but it makes me sad. Also, I don't know how it will throw off the menu. Chicken salad was coming up next Tuesday!

Nothing New on the Double Hovel, But a Curious Observation

Sunday afternoon, I had a mini shopping trip with The Pony. Afterwards, I suggested we drive by the Double Hovel Flip House(s). The listing has not been updated with pictures of the Beauty Shop. Imagine that! After just discovering the neglect on Friday afternoon.

"I came by on the way to your house, and there ARE signs for the realtor in front of both houses. We can drive over there if you want. It's only a mile or less."

"Yeah. I have time."

Dang! That Beauty Shop efficiency cottage looked SO gosh-darn cute! The red door and black trim around the windows really makes it pop. We've gotta get pictures of this on the listing.

Anyhoo... I parked in front of the main house.

"Pony. Somebody left the gate open. I first thought it might have been the realtor's husband when he put the signs out. But notice that this sign is on the OUTSIDE of the fence. So he didn't have to go in the yard. MAYBE somebody came by to look and went in the fence to peep in the windows. That's what I hope, anyway."

"Yeah. Or maybe Dad left the gate open..."

When mentioning it to Hick later, he said he did NOT go in the main house, and did NOT leave the gate open. So we are hoping it was somebody looking at the property.

I will update with any news, including if/when the Beauty Shop pictures go up. Sorry to be stuck on this topic, but it's the most excitement we have around here.

Hick Is No Ostrich

Hick is not one to lie around in a staged bed in a Beauty Shop! Apparently he jumped into action Friday afternoon, right after I informed him that our Double Hovel Flip House(s) were listed online, but without any pictures of the Beauty Shop.  

I had no idea what Hick was going to do. I just wanted him to be aware. Meanwhile, The Pony and I were wringing our hands, beside ourselves, yet believing that the realtor must have a reason for listing our property this way. After all, she has many years of experience, and only stands to get paid from what she earns us. We abhor confrontation, and would rather keep our heads buried in the sand, waiting for things to work out.

When I called Hick back later in the afternoon, he said he had gone to see the realtor, but she wasn't there.

"I put a note under her door, asking why the Beauty Shop wasn't in the pictures. And why we don't have any FOR SALE signs in the yards. I also told her the listing is confusing, because it mentions two houses, but then lists the property like it's all one house, with 3 bedrooms and 2.5 baths."

Of course this was news to share with The Pony. We were both MORTIFIED that Hick had left a note under the door for the realtor. Writing notes is not one of Hick's talents! As The Pony said, he may mean well, but his written communications turn out to be illegible, or sound condescending. Hick is better at speaking to people directly. 

Meanwhile, The Pony was still at work. He checks his phone walking between houses. With each text I sent, I was hoping I didn't cause him to step in a hole or fall down some steps or wade through a yellowjacket nest or tempt a dog's teeth with his dainty Victorian-lady toe-pointing steps.

After 2:00, when I knew Hick would be at his buddy's electrician shop for his Friday afternoon bull-shooting session, I called again.

"The realtor called me when she got my note. She said her husband was coming to put FOR SALE signs in the yards. She said the photographer had sent her 26 pictures, and she loaded them all. Then she said it was odd that there were no pictures of the little house. She called the photographer. He said he didn't know there were TWO houses. And she said he was going back to take pictures of the Beauty Shop."

"When?"

"I don't know. She didn't say. Maybe today."

"I doubt that. It's a Friday afternoon, and looks like rain is coming. I don't think they take pictures on cloudy days! It took him two weeks to finally get these. Now people will be confused about where the other house is, and won't look at the listing again."

"Yeah, but when she DOES get the Beauty Shop pictures, that listing will pop up as NEW again, I bet. So more people will look again."

"Maybe..."

Anyhoo... now The Pony and I are singing Hick's praises, because he DID SOMETHING about it as soon as he found out. His questionable note-leaving skills are forgiven!

Later that evening, The Pony said he checks Zillow, and 40 people had viewed the Double Hovel listing in the few hours it had been up, and that 11 of them had "saved it" to come back to easily. 

I suggested that MAYBE some of them would drive by and look on the weekend. That's what WE do when we're looking for a property. Drive by, and Hick walks around (or tries the doorknob, as The Pony reminded me), to see if it's something we want to pursue.

I don't look on Zillow. I use Realtor.com, set for our county. To be fair, that's where the listing looks confusing. Maybe it's not set up for two houses on one listing. Might have nothing at all to do with the realtor. In any case, it's out there for people to see and pursue if interested.

All it takes is ONE buyer, you know...

Be Careful What You're Impatient For, Val

Welp! The very day after I wrote about being impatient for our Double Hovel Flip House(s) listing to show up online... IT WAS THERE!

I logged onto the innernets around noon, and checked our realtor's website. THERE WAS THE DOUBLE HOVEL! Oh, the excitement! I clicked on it to see the pictures and description. Huh. The description was short, and a bit  murky. To the pictures! 26 of them!

WAIT A MINUTE! OUR PIGLET WAS MISSING!

That's right. There were 26 pictures of the main house, but NONE of the Beauty Shop. Not even an outside view. The best I could tell, a sliver of the back corner showed up by the gravel off-road parking picture of the main house.

Well! What would people think? A mention of two investment properties on the same lot, but only pictures of one. They would think something must be terribly wrong with the second house. Or they might think the metal shed in the back yard of the main house was the other home!

I called Hick. He sounded preoccupied, and grunty. I accused him of being on the toilet pooping.

"No, Val! I'm at the Beauty Shop. I came by to see if anybody had been in, or if there were signs yet. No signs in the yard. I'm laying on the bed I put in here, from the QuickFlip house, waiting until time to go by the doctor for my shot."

"Our listing is up on her website, and on Realtor.com. But there are only pictures of the main house!"

"Huh. That's not right..."

"Yeah. I sent a text to The Pony, and he said maybe it's because they are on different streets, and she can only put one address on there. I don't know. How will people figure out what the second house is?"

"I'll look at it."

Well. Nothing is ever easy for Val and Hick. The tale continues tomorrow...

Val Grows Impatient

I've been checking the website of our realtor every day, eagerly anticipating our listing of the Double Hovel Flip House(s). NOTHING! Yes, I'm impatient. Hick finally turned over the keys last Tuesday afternoon. I know that the "professional photographer" was going to be scheduled for this week. Still... I want it to happen yesterday! Last week, even!

Our realtor owns her own business. Not part of a chain, or broker, or whatever you call real estate companies. We're a small town. She had 11 listings on her website last week, three of them under contract. One has since dropped off, so I guess the deal was completed. But now there are two more. One of them a $1.5 million piece of real estate! And another is a condo that's more expensive than our property.

I don't begrudge our realtor earning a living! The other two listings might have come in ahead of ours. At least I saw the pictures of the condo interior, so I know the "professional photographer" knows how to show rooms to their advantage. I'm hoping our pictures have been taken, and that soon I will see our listing. 

I feel like a proud parent, waiting to show off my offspring. Even though I had nothing to do with the renovations...

Hot Salad and Forking Salsa

I offered to get Hick's Senior Center Reuben Sandwich lunch ready for his supper. You remember, this lunch that I showed you yesterday:

"I can heat it in the oven for you. That's what I'm going to do with mine later."

"No. I can microwave it."

"Okay... do you think the sandwich will turn out okay? I want to try and get my bread toasty."

"Val. There's no way you can warm that salad in the oven!"

"What? I don't plan to warm the SALAD in the oven! You don't warm a salad."

"Val. It has CHICKEN in it! I'll just warm my sandwich and salad in the microwave."

"Um. WHY would you warm that salad? It's LETTUCE!"

"It has chicken in it!"

"It's meant to be a cold salad. That chicken is already cooked. It doesn't have to be warmed. And even if it did, I'd think you would set it aside and warm it separately, without the lettuce."

"Huh. Well. I guess you can put my sandwich in the oven."

What in the NOT-HEAVEN? Did Hick think the Senior Center was serving people RAW chicken in that salad? He even stood there and ate two pieces of it when he looked in his container and saw the beets. I have no idea why he thought that salad needed to be warmed!

But wait! There's more to Hick's kitchen knowledge deficiency! I had asked if the salad had any kind of dressing on it, and Hick said that it did. I suggested that he might want to put some salsa on it, since it was a "Southewestern" salad.

"Yeah. That would be good."

"Okay. I'll set out the salsa. It's a new jar I just opened. If you dip it out with your fork, because I know how you hate the JUICE, then just don't lick your fork and put it back in. It's a new jar. I don't want it contaminated."

I went about my business, after setting out Hick's plate, fork, bowl for his salad, and heated Reuben sandwich, along with a paper towel. Good thing I turned to look as Hick was moving his salad from the foam container to his bowl, scraping it with his fork! THEN he picked up the jar of salsa!

"WAIT! What are you doing? You used your fork in the salad already!"

"Yeah..."

"You can't put that in the salsa! It has some of the dressing on it from the salad!"

"Huh. I didn't lick it!"

"No, but it still has stuff on it that will get in the salsa. Get a spoon, or a clean fork for your salsa."

"I don't know why you're so picky. I was going to wipe off the fork on my paper towel..."

Sure he was. It's a full-time job keeping Hick from food-poisoning himself, or ME.

Hick Should Have Known that Val Did Not Desire a Beeting

Hick brought home Senior Center lunches for our supper on Tuesday. It was Reuben Sandwich day!!! Hick did not have time to eat his lunch there, because he was busy working on his AHEM new storage unit. Don't get me started on that. Yet...

Anyhoo... I was excited to see the Reuben on the monthly menu, and asked Hick to get me one. So he called in two of them, and brought them home before going back for more work on the storage unit.

Grilled Reuben Sandwich

Southwestern Salad

Cucumber, tomatoes, onions

Crackers

Mexican Cheesecake OR fruit

The main thing I wanted was the sandwich, but I figured I'd try the salad. I didn't understand listing those other vegetables. Wouldn't they already be in the salad? It seemed odd. And crackers? Huh. I suppose maybe to go with the salad. I asked Hick about it, and all he said was, "Sometimes they give us crackers."

Hick came in toting the containers. I asked to look in one before he put them in FRIG II.

"Okay. If it has beets in it, it's yours. Mine ain't got no beets. I told him not to."

"This must be mine. What did you get instead of beets?"

"I don't know. Huh. Looks like I got beets, too! My buddy was makin' 'em, so I guess he forgot. She asked him when I came in, 'Which ones are Hick's?' and he said he didn't know."

"I guess somebody who really likes beets won't be getting their beets, thanks to you! I don't know why you didn't have them left out of mine. I hate beets."

"I didn't know that. I thought you liked them."

Sure he did. We've only been married 35 years. I've never once served beets at a meal. I've never bought beets. I've never eaten a beet at a holiday gathering. I know that Hick doesn't like beets. Why can't he know that one little fact about ME????

Anyhoo... the Mexican Cheesecake actually looked good. I still didn't want it, so Hick scored them both.

It was a generous portion. And not turned upside down like the piece of cake he brought last week. I'm not sure exactly what's in this dessert, but I'll try to show you a cross section:

I'm sure Hick will enjoy two desserts. He MIGHT even save one for the next day. As I write this, our supper awaits. I'm planning to heat my sandwich in the oven. As I've said before, they take a few liberties. The meat is three slices of beef, like from the Buddig package. There's some kind of cheese, maybe. There IS sauerkraut on it. And the dressing might be French, although it didn't look very orange where it had leaked out of Hick's sandwich.

Maybe they should call this a Reubenesque Sandwich. Then again, that might conjure up some other image entirely. The Senior Center doesn't seem to have much concern about the accuracy of their monthly menu anyway. I did not see any crackers, nor cucumbers/tomatoes/onions in my container. 

Still, not bad for a $5 meal.

Rumpusholes Are Gonna Show Their Rumpus

There were only a few cars at the Gas Station Chicken Store when I went in to buy my scratchers on Monday. An Older Lady was walking in ahead of me, from the gas pumps. She was too far away to expect any door-holding favors.

When I stepped inside, a 30-Something Gal was waiting, with the Older Lady at the counter paying for gas. She paid in cash, and declined the offer of red tickets for the weekly gas drawing, and her receipt. Easy peasy. 

However... while she was paying, that 30-Something Gal was talking. Muttering, almost. I assumed she was on the phone with somebody. People do that all the time. I couldn't see her left hand and ear. She was holding a 44 oz fountain soda in her right hand.

"Now she's blah blah blah-ing..."

Again, I couldn't make out all the words. Not my business. 

Older Lady left, and 30-Something Gal stepped up to the counter.

"That's $1.47. Is that all?"

"Yeah." 30-Something Gal tossed a dollar and some coins onto the counter. "You can keep the change, BITCH!" And walked out the door.

What in the NOT-HEAVEN???

At first, I thought she must be a friend of the cashier, just joking around. But the look on the cashier's face made that unlikely. I felt bad for her.

"Well... I guess you never know..."

Cashier raised her eyebrows, like, yeah, that was not expected. Then she turned to the gas meter thingy, which was beeping with somebody trying to pump gas. She looked through the window, and I guess she recognized the pumper, because she turned on the pump. Then knocked on the window to get his attention, pointing at him that he could pump.

Unfortunately, 30-Something Gal was sitting just outside the window in her car. I suppose she assumed Cashier was pointing at HER, after knocking on the window to get her attention! She flipped Cashier the bird. The badfinger, as my boys used to call it. Thankfully, Cashier did not notice, as she was looking toward the gas pumper she was signaling to. No way was I going to mention that little birdie!

What is wrong with people? I have no idea why 30-Something Gal was mad. Maybe she thought Old Lady had been served ahead of her. But I don't see how, considering where 30 Something Gal was standing when I went in the door.

I guess rumpusholes are just gonna show their rumpus. No reason needed.

Formalities Are Finished

You may recall that Hick brought home papers for The Pony and I to sign on Tuesday. Papers that would give the realtor permission to list our Double Hovel Flip House(s) for sale. I signed on Tuesday evening, and The Pony signed on Wednesday morning (his day off) when Hick took them by his house.

Hick took the papers back to the realtor after his Senior Center lunch on Wednesday. But of course it was not that simple.

"She was out of the office. So I just slid them under the door like she said I could if she wasn't there."

On Thursday evening, I asked Hick if he'd heard anything from the realtor.

"No. Why would I? I put the papers under the door like she said."

"I just thought maybe if you'd forgotten something, she'd let you know."

"No. I haven't heard anything."

I asked Hick again on Friday evening. 

"No. But I drove by the house, and I saw that she had put a key box on it."

"How do you get into those, anyway? With a code, I assume."

"It's for other realtors to show the house, and she can split the commission if they sell it."

"I know that part. But how do the other realtors actually access the key?"

"Maybe they have a key to the box."

"No way every realtor in the county is going to have a key to a box! I'm thinking it's a code number. And surely they wouldn't give a prospective buyer access without a realtor. They could vandalize the place, or move in!"

"I don't know exactly how it works."

"Did she have her signs in the yard?"

"No. But she took mine down!"

Well. That only makes sense. Can't have Hick selling the property on his own, icing the realtor out of a commission!

The Pony Acts as a Canary on a Lead Mine

Part of The Pony's work route involves delivering mail to the local DMV office, which sits precariously close to a large sinkhole that opened up a year or two ago. He sent me a picture back then, when it was not covered.

Friday, The Pony sent me new pictures. The sinkhole had been fenced off, and covered by a piece of fencing as well. The Pony is always eager to see how much it has spread. Like after a heavy rain. We haven't had rain lately, but that sinkhole is expanding.

"The hole by the DMV keeps getting bigger. I'd honestly suggest not driving on that road beside the funeral home."

"Okay."

"Dang!"

"Yeah! When I looked in and saw how undercut one side was, I decided I Should Not Stand That Close!"

It has definitely grown wider than the piece of fence that covered it. Here are some pictures from the past, showing how it started and grew. In reverse order.

There it was, in June 2022, when they'd just put up a fence around the area. Old daycare playground behind it. The daycare was in operation until this hole appeared. 

That's from the other angle, showing the DMV parking lot in the background.

But wait! The whole issue started in July 2019! I got my own pictures, driving by on the road The Pony has now told me to avoid. This is when they'd capped the sinkhole with a concrete slab, which then fell in. So an orange web fence was put up.

It's a street that's used a lot. I think The Pony only walks down here. He also sent me a video of his feet walking up to the sinkhole on Friday, which really showed the extent of the enlargement. Too bad I couldn't load that video. My phone said I exceeded the limit of data, even though it was just a few seconds long.

I'll miss taking that route to go to the drive-up mailbox, and to get to the road I take sometimes to get to Sis-Town on errand days. But if avoiding that gives The Pony one less thing to worry about (mainly ME, falling down into a flooded lead mine), then I will gladly comply.

The Universe Needs to Find Work for Hick's Idle Hands

Now that the Double Hovel Flip House(s) project is complete, Hick has a little free time. That's not good! He needs another project! He's been coming home early in the afternoon. It doesn't really bother me, like having him underfoot. He doesn't kick back in the recliner and watch Gunsmoke reruns for the 20th time. He spends time outside doing things, then gets in POOLIO.

THAT'S the problem! The outside things. When I left for town a few days ago, Hick had SilverRedO parked up at the end of the driveway. He was standing behind the truck, doing something around our address sign. It's a little metal pole in a ring of bricks, with a metal plate hanging from it with the numbers and our street name. Except the numbers are the stick-on reflective kind you get at Walmart, and they've faded over the years.

Anyhoo... as I got closer, I saw FLAMES! Flames shooting out of some device that Hick was holding, pointing at the base of the sign.

"WHAT are you doing??? Is that a FLAMETHROWER?"

"Yeah. A flamethrower. I'm burning up the weeds. I did that over at the Flip House. I burned those dead weeds in the fence, where I had sprayed the poison on them."

 No, I didn't ask for more specifics. Sometimes, it's better not to know... Like when Hick volunteered the following information a day later:

"You know when you went to town yesterday? I decided to use my flamethrower on some more weeds. So I was down by our carport, burning the weeds--"

"Along your white plastic fence? Where you put that mailbox for packages that none of the delivery drivers will use?"

"Yeah. There. And I set that yucca plant on fire! It blazed up! I had to run get three buckets of water to put it out!"

"Where did you get a bucket?"

"I had one, hanging on the well spigot. From when I used to water the animals. I had to make three trips with it!"

"Well, I can imagine how fast that was... you're lucky you didn't burn the house down!"

"Maybe."

The Pony and I are actively looking for another house suitable for flipping.

Hick the Do-Gooder Does Another Good Deed

Hick's work partner, Old Buddy, had some difficulties this week. His car quit working. It's a foreign model, and apparently the computer part of the engine is the issue. He was telling Hick about it. That he doesn't have much money saved up, and he doesn't know how he's going to get that car fixed.

Hick reminded Old Buddy that he pays him every week (in cash) for his hours of help. And reminded him that he has all these people he does things for. "Where are they NOW? Those people you always give rides to, and help out? Are they doing anything for you?" Old Buddy said that one of them has offered to give him a ride if he needs it. Hick was just pointing out (as he seems to do often) that Old Buddy should set aside some of that money he earns, in case he needs it, and not just use it to help people who (in Hick's opinion) might be taking advantage of Old Buddy's kindness.

Anyhoo... a guy came to look at Old Buddy's car, and said he would need to order a part, and that it would cost $450 for him to fix it. Hick is good with cars, but not the computerized parts. He called his go-to guy, Mick the Mechanic, and presented the scenario. Mick said that most likely, Old Buddy would need to take that car (a 2012 model) to a dealer for such repairs. And the only dealers for it are in the city (60 miles away). Mick also said that there ARE some people who will come fix it. Hick found out that a dealer in the city would charge $1,500 for such a job.

The guy who said he'd work on Old Buddy's car says the part he ordered should be here next week. Hick told Old Buddy that he would loan him the money, and that he can work it off. Meanwhile, he will drive Old Buddy to the Storage Units on the weekend, so he can still work at his own shop. But that he'll have to be there the same hours as Hick.

He's really a pretty good guy, our Hick.

The Slaw-Crank Redemption

Hick brought me home a Senior Center lunch for my supper on Tuesday. Oh, before we sing his praises and induct him into the Husband Hall of Fame... let the record show that I saw what was on the menu, and asked Hick to get it for me. Still, he DID. That means he has to call them ahead of time to reserve a meal for carryout, and of course pay for it (out his own pocket overflowing with cash from his SUS2).

Anyhoo... I asked Hick if he could watch them actually MAKING the carryout containers.

"Yeah. I know who does it. It ain't the one who hates me right now."

"Well, could you ask them not to put so much juice in my slaw? Last time it was like slaw soup. And the juice runs over onto everything else when the container tilts."

"I'll ask her."

Hick brought my meal home around 1:00. Of course I had to check on the slaw.

Yes. I'm sure your eyes did not go immediately to the slaw. But LOOK AT IT! That slaw must have been spooned into a piece of cheesecloth and squeezed to get out all the liquid! Not that I'm complaining. It was fairly dry for slaw, but still had all the slaw taste. So kudos to the slaw-dipper!

No, those are not regular hamburger buns. They are slider buns. I had been hoping for the single ciabatta bun that the sandwich came on last time, so was a bit disappointed. Even though I apparently have a BIG APPETITE, I could not eat all of that in one meal. I finished the slaw, had two Slider-Qs, and some fries. Hick is getting the rest of those fries, because they have some kind of spicy coating that I don't like. Stop feeding the elderlies spicy foods! The meal also came with a piece of cake, but I gave that to Hick. It was gone by the time I took this picture.

Anyhoo... I might ask for this meal again next time it's served. Or any other meal that comes with slaw. This version was much better than the slaw soup.

The Realtor Can Have Our Listing When She Pries the Keys from Hick's Calloused, Hard-Working Hands

Well. The holiday weekend is over. Hick was planning to stop by the realtor's office on Tuesday, to hand over the keys to the Double Hovel Flip House(s). He brought home a Senior Center lunch for me, which I had requested for my supper. Pulled Pork Sandwich day! Anyhoo... Hick got here around 1:00.

"Did you give the realtor the keys?"

"No. She wasn't there. So I'm going back right now."

Really? Hick drove all the way out here to give me the Senior Center meal, with plans to go back to town? He could just as easily have left my meal in the NEW refrigerator at the Beauty Shop, then picked it up on his way home in the evening.

So many obstacles there seem to be, in getting this property on the market! When Hick eventually returned home later, I asked again about the realtor.

"Yes. She was there. I gave her the keys. I have some papers for you and The Pony to sign. She can't list it until all the owners are on the contract."

"You mean like when I asked you before you talked to her, if The Pony and I would need to sign? And you said, 'No, I'll be able to do it by myself.'"

"Well, she needs all of our signatures. I brought the papers home. You can sign, and I'll go by Pony's house tomorrow when he's off."

"What about the pictures of the inside of the houses?"

"She said that after she gets the paperwork tomorrow, she'll call the photographer and schedule pictures for one day next week."

Sure she will... something is bound to come up!

Confusing the Detail-Oriented Pony

You can't survive a USPS job without paying attention to detail. The Pony is no exception. He was befuddled on Sunday, when setting out the buns for our grilled bratwursts.

"Wait! Are these the right buns? They say BURGER buns!"

"What? I bought three packs of hot dog buns. What do you mean, BURGER?"

"Look! At the wording on the package! They look like hot dog buns, but it clearly says BURGER! On all three of the packages!"

"Huh. I never noticed that. I just looked at the shape of the buns."

What in the Not-Heaven? I suppose all of this company's bun packages say BURGER. It's not a store brand, because I've seen it in Save A Lot (where I bought these), Country Mart, and 10Box. I guess it's just a lesser brand. Maybe regional. Lewis Bake Shop.

Anyhoo... the buns are just fine to eat with bratwursts. Even though they are purportedly BURGER buns.

Thevictorians Grill

The Pony came out Sunday for a BBQ. Except no BBQ sauce was involved. Hick grilled bratwursts and steaks. I went to town to pick up The Pony, for assistance in making my deviled eggs. The Pony does the legwork so I don't have to. My chauffeur service was so The Pony could let his hair down and enjoy an adult beverage, without having his car here to deal with. Hick was the return driver after our feast.

Our grilling was on Sunday, because The Pony was going to volunteer to work on Monday if needed. Only packages go out on the holiday. According to The Pony, it's a fairly "easy" day to earn overtime or future time off. Gotta strut those dainty Victorian ankles about town.

The Pony and Hick had New York Strip steaks. Here's The Pony's plate:

Bratwurst, steak, baked potato, stuffing. That's a side bowl of French Onion Dip, from The Pony's appetizer while helping with the deviled eggs, waiting for Hick to come home and grill. Used with Black Pepper Potato Chips.

The Pony also had a salad. Just from a bagged mix of Italian Blend. He added some shredded mozzarella, Caesar Dressing (which he added AFTER the picture, oh so wrong, putting it on top of the crispy onions, in my opinion), and crispy fried onions. Couldn't resist grabbing a Sister Schubert's Roll while I was taking the picture.

Hick only wanted steak. No salad.

Hick also had a baked potato, and some stuffing. I don't know what Hick has done to make his finger look like he hasn't washed his hands in 30 years! Maybe it was from cleaning the grill.

I didn't want steak. I've been cutting back, so just a bratwurst for me.

And some SLAW, of course! With a roll, and a deviled egg. I suppose Hick and The Pony had eaten their deviled eggs before I got to the table and took pictures. Because they were set out, and some were definitely missing. The Pony might have been full of them, having sampled my early efforts. There are some tortilla chips in the background, which was my snack while waiting for Hick to come home at 3:30 to grill.

I also had a salad of romaine lettuce and shredded cheddar and garden tomatoes. Not our garden. We don't have one. They were charity tomatoes grown by Hick's buddies and given to him.

It looks big here, but was actually half the size of The Pony's salad. I used a small cardboard bowl, rather than the big glass bowl that goes with the plates. I must have taken the picture before I put on my crispy onions. I KNOW I had crispy onions!

Anyhoo... the food was good, and the company was better. We had a great time. Except maybe Hick, who had a good-enough time. He's not one to get giddy with emotions like The Pony and me.