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.

Hick Might Have a Problem Letting Go

The Double Hovel Flip House(s) project is going on two years now. That's the longest Hick has ever taken to flip a house. In fact, Pony House was done in six months, almost from the floor up. You may recall that it was completely gutted inside. HOS House had to be cleaned out and some rooms added, including a bathroom and kitchen, and was done within a year. Hick also had help from HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) on that one. The QuickFlip House was done in a couple months.

I'm not saying Hick is lazy, or that he doesn't know how to complete a flip. He also had back surgery during this time, so was not at full capacity for a while, and then had recovery. So I'm not faulting Hick for the time it's taken to get this project finished. As The Pony says, "It takes a long time for two old men, working three hours a day, four days a week."

What I AM accusing Hick of is maybe not wanting to let his project go... He might not even realize it. He's always liked having something in the works. For the past few months, he has apparently been readying ANOTHER storage unit behind my back! To expand his SUS2 (Storage Unit Store 2). That might make it the SUS2.5! But I don't think this has any bearing on getting the Double Hovel on the market.

Anyhoo... here's the issue. Hick had said the Double Hovel should be ready by summer. Then he said he was going to have it listed by the end of July. Then it was the first week of August. Then the second. Then he dropped in instead of calling the realtor. Then he had to have an appointment the next week so she could tour the property. Then fix a couple minor things. Putting us here this week, when Hick said it was ready.

"We should finish up the painting on Monday. Then I can move all my tools out. It might even ready Wednesday. I'll go give her the keys, and she can get her 'professional photographer' to take the pictures."

Since I didn't get a call from Hick on Wednesday afternoon, I figured it didn't happen. Same thing on Thursday, when he said he was going to hand over the keys. So I asked again Friday morning.

"Are you going to see the realtor today?"

"Yeah. After lunch, I'm taking her the keys."

Again, no phone call or text from Hick. When he came home Friday evening, I asked.

"No. I went by her office to give her the keys, and there was a note on her door! Saying she would be back on Tuesday morning! So I guess I'll do it then..."

"Well, it IS Labor Day weekend. A lot of people take off early for the holiday."

"Val. She is 70 years old!"

Not sure how Hick knew this information. As if the elderlies don't also enjoy a long weekend from work. It just seems like every time he's sure he's handing over the keys, something comes up so it doesn't happen.