A New Version of an Old Game

We spent Christmas Eve at the home of my sister the ex-mayor's wife. Sis and Ex-Mayor work their rumpuses off preparing an evening feast. So many delectable treats. Ham, sausage and cheese filled crispy wontons, meatballs, little smokies, pizza snacks on rye bread, rolls, and other items I can't remember, because I asked The Pony to bring me a plate with just a few that I really wanted. Can't go overboard during the holidays, you know. The desserts were plentiful as well. The sugary cookies topped with a Hershey Kiss, buckeyes, Rolo candy on pretzels, turtles, peanut clusters, a new cookie designed like a snow globe, fudge. I only had one, my new favorite (surpassing the turtle) of the peanut cluster.

Anyhoo... Sis had a new game this year. She had prepared us the week previous, commanding everybody who attended to bring two gifts. The gifts had to be something already IN YOUR HOUSE. It could be something nice... or not. As Sis said, "I don't care if it's toenails you just clipped, or a piece of jewelry. As long as it's something you already had in your house, and you wrap it or put it in a bag, without putting a name on it."

As you might imagine, this game was a hoot. It's like White Elephant, or Dirty Santa, in which gifts can be stolen from other players. But this version uses dice. Sis had big dice that LIT UP. A red one and a green one. Niecy's daughter Babe was in charge of collecting the dice from the middle of the floor after each roll, and giving them to the next player.

The only gifts I knew were Hick's, and my own. Hick took the stuffed guitar doorstop, 

and the sweatshirt-material Mizzou Tigers purse that he won at bingo. 

I didn't get a picture of my first choice, which was a furry pink flamingo hat that I used to wear when we had Hat Day at school. The body of the flaming fits your head, and the long neck can be bent in assorted positions. Mostly, we just wore it so you could lean over and peck somebody on their head with the beak, heh, heh.

Anyhoo... my second choice was that Frisbee thingy that we got in the swag from closing on the Bargain House.

It came in a handy little pouch.

That shows you the size, perched on HIPPIE my laptop.

There it is, freed from the pouch. Am I the only one who sees this as a Frisbee? It's just a disc of windbreaker material. Very light, and suitable for flinging through the air. When you're done playing, you twist it and it reverts to a small circular shape again, to put back into the pouch. Well. After much struggle, depending on how good you are at twisting the wire rim.

Anyhoo... we had to roll a 7 or 11 to have a chance to choose a gift from the pile. Some were wrapped boxes. Ours were in gift bags taped at the top to prevent peeking. Hick was lucky, and accumulated a stack of FIVE gifts! You couldn't open one unless you rolled a specific number. Same with having a chance to steal somebody else's gift, whether it was open or closed. Some numbers required that two people trade their gifts, and others had us passing them right or left. We had quite a good time playing. I can't remember all of the gifts, but here's a random list of some others:

set of three screwdrivers

Mandalorian figurine

2X black T-shirt with an orange-haired turkey saying Make Thanksgiving Great Again 

can of tuna

baggie of bandaids and wipes

bidet in a box

blueberry muffin

two foil tabletop Christmas trees

dish towel

box of chocolate-covered mints

bottle of coconut shampoo

pouch of powdered dip mix

mini planner for 2025

tube of tissues to fit in car cupholder

bottle of glitter nail polish

The Pony got the T-shirt, and was itching to unload it.

Hick had the glitter nail polish.

Genius got the blueberry muffin, and started eating it right away. Then was fighting to obtain the tube of car tissues.

Friend got the flamingo hat, and wore it throughout the game, until it was stolen by Babe. Friend coveted the mini planner, but it was passed around.

I got the baggie of bandaids, but traded it for the bottle of coconut shampoo. Which was a big rip-off, because it smelled like CITRUS, and only had coconut water as an ingredient. I took it from Niecy, who had brought it, and misrepresented it as COCONUT.

The bidet in a box was a hotly contested item being traded among three people. The foil Christmas trees were the least wanted, but only because somebody actively went after the 2X T-shirt with the intent of giving it to someone else.

The box of mints was taken from me, and swapped around.

Ex-Mayor's sister-in-law got Hick's Mizzou sweatshirt purse, and LOVED IT. Of course you know what that meant. SIS stole it from her! I tried my best to steal it back, and restore it to somebody who would love it and not just possess it for spite.

Sis got my Frisbee. Yet she opened it up, and declared: "I got a FAN!" And proceeded to flap it back and forth in her face. Seriously. If that was meant to be a fan, it would have been shaped like a fan!

Turns out Sis's son brought the blueberry muffin. He only had one item to bring from home, so picked up that muffin at Casey's on his way to the party. Genius said it was delicious.

Anyhoo... that's how we spent Christmas Eve night, after The Pony's amazing jackpot at the casino that morning.

Val's Creeping Decrepitness: The Bank Teller

I had to go to the bank Friday to deposit a refund check Hick got from an MRI of his thyroid. 

Ever-hopeful, I checked the lights at the three drive-thru bays as I pulled in. Nope. All were dark. It was into the bank lobby for Val. At least there was only one car on the lot. And I nabbed the closest of the two handicap parking spaces, even though it was at the end of the building, requiring me to walk the length to the door.

Inside, there was one man, waiting a respectful distance from the counter. The teller on the left was on a phone call. The teller on the right was fiddling around in her drawer. Then she called the man over. I stood waiting my turn. 

The Telephone Teller was either employing a Public Servant Standoff technique or had the patience of a saint. What I could gather from the one-sided conversation was that a customer had opened an account, and was asking about the debit card linked to it. Telephone Teller explained in detail, several different ways, how that debit card was linked only to the checking account. Not the savings. The only access to savings would be from an ATM. 

 

"So if you use it at a grocery store, it will only draw from your checking account. Not savings. Or any store where you try to make a purchase. It only uses your checking account money. So if there's not enough in checking to cover it, you can't pay with the debit. It will not link to your savings account."

Meanwhile, The Man was having an issue with a check he was depositing. Of course he was. Nothing is simple for Val. His teller told him:

"Something is just not right with this check. It's nothing you did, or anything I did. For some reason, the system won't read the check. I can see you have the money. But I have to wait for this check to process."

I'm not sure what that was all about. I just know it kept me waiting. I moved over and leaned against the front window of the vestibule. If there's one thing my knees hate more than walking, it's standing.

Telephone Teller finally wrapped up her phone call, and motioned me over.

"Okay. Just a minute. I have to get my legs walking again."

She took a minute to deposit Hick's check. Even asked the other teller if her computer was working. It was. But slowly.

After giving me my receipt, Telephone Teller said, "Can I walk you to your car?"

"Oh. No. I'll be fine. I just have sore knees. I can make it. But thank you so much."

I do not like being an object of pity who requires good deeds, though I DO appreciate the efforts of those who try to help me.

Val's Creeping Decrepitness: The Casino Samaritan

As much as Val likes to think that she can move through life like a normal person, the actions of others signify that she cannot. Lately, old men and young girls hold doors open for me. I am happy, though embarrassed, to fuel their good karma.

I took my cane to the casino on Christmas Eve morning. Better safe than sorry for more walking than normal. Once I get limbered up from the hour ride, I can walk along carrying the cane. But after sitting, I need it to get going. There's something about the height of those slot machine stools that wreaks havoc with Val's knees. Goldilocks needs to investigate. They are either too low, or most often too high. Perched upon them, my knees bear a burden for which they are not suited.

While The Pony was waiting for his jackpot handpay, I decided to move from the slot I had been playing to the one next to it around the carousel. I was leaning forward, right hand on my cane, left hand on the slot, preparing to stand. A tall gray-haired lady was walking by on the next aisle. She caught my eye. I thought nothing of it, until I was hoisting myself up, and she was right behind me, reaching out to possibly grasp my upper left arm.

"Can I help you?"

"Oh, no. Thank you so much! But I just have stiff knees, and it takes me a minute."

"Okay. I am happy to help."

"Thanks, but I can do it. I really appreciate it."

Yes. That's how much Val has deteriorated. Elderlies try to help her.

I hope Even Steven rewards them for their intended good deeds.

Winning Can Be a Chore!

When The Pony hit the jackpot, we were all in shock. There were four of those same slots in a row. I was on the left end, then Pony, Genius, and Friend. Hick was on the other side of the casino doing his own thing.

As the bonus had progressed to the top level, we all sucked in a breath of amazement. The Pony was saying, "NO WAY!"

It has re-set here, but in The Pony's GRAND bonus, there were only three choices for him to win. The top amount was the $16,633.47, and there was the $7,500 and the $3,000. That's because the others had been won, like the $400 amount down in the MAJOR bonus. The amounts would light up in a random pattern, and then one would disappear. When we looked at the screen, we knew the lowest amount The Pony could win was the $3,000. That was exciting enough! It's a handpay.

After much flashing around, the $7,500 disappeared. Fine. Still leading up to a magnificent $3,000 win. But then the $3,000 disappeared! We were all whooping. IN SHOCK! The Pony reached for his phone to get a picture, but his phone was gone! Left on the previous slot! Friend ran to fetch it. I got a picture. In all our excitement, The Pony was just sitting. IN SHOCK!

"I know I had my hand on my chest, like a southern grandma hearing the grandkids swearing. Genius has a picture of me like that."

Friend went to tell Hick. Who said, "Well, I just started winning here, so I can't really leave." Can you believe THAT? So Hick did not witness the ensuing events. 

The screen clearly says to CALL ATTENDANT.

That's how you get your money if you win more than $1,200 in Missouri. But The Pony hadn't pushed the SERVICE button.

"Do I HAVE to? Don't they know I've won?"

"I'm sure they know you've won. There are cameras everywhere. They're watching us right now. But you still have to call for them to come start the process of paying you."

Genius stood behind The Pony. Friend to the side. I got ready to move over to another section of slots, where I could watch and be out of the way. An attendant came and took The Pony's ID (thankfully not forgotten this time). Asked if he wanted federal and state taxes both withheld. The Pony did. How did he want the money?

At first The Pony said cash. I could almost feel the sheer panic come off Genius in waves. "Um. I'm pretty sure you want a CHECK!"

"Oh, yeah. I'd rather have a check."

The attendant said that was fine, and made a note or typed something in. I can't remember clearly, but I DO know the attendant heard, and was making an adjustment to the forms. The attendant sat down at The Pony's slot and started fiddling with it. Probably to make sure there had been no tomfoolery to VOID the payout. And to re-set it.

Friend went to get The Pony a rum and Coke at the bar, to celebrate. Several other security people came over. They took The Pony's ID and went back to their lair to process the payout. Imagine Genius's chagrin (and The Pony's glee!) when they returned with CASH. Said they did not remember The Pony asked for a check. I guess that's understandable, with the excitement, and all of us standing around. Cash was handed over. The Pony doled out some tips.

Then we milled around. Really. Where do you go from there? Genius decreed that we should all stick together. "I'm NOT leaving you two with that kind of money. And we'll ask for a security escort when we leave."

Genius is a good big brother. Always a leader. One to take charge. We played a few more slots, then Genius said he thought we should go. I made my way to a bathroom, Genius stuck with The Pony, and Friend went off to round up Hick. We all met near the entrance, after Genius asked the staff to provide security.

As Hick said later, "That guy couldn't have prevented nothin'! He was a little guy. All he had was a radio. I don't know how he could stop a robbery." I don't know what Hick was expecting. This is not the old west, where gunslingers patrol the premises. I've never seen an armed security guard in a casino.

Anyhoo... The Pony surprised me when he said they did not count out the money in front of him. "Mom. They weren't going to open up the brick."

Don't you worry, all you Geniuses out there! That money is safely deposited. Just showing you, because how many of you have seen that kind of cash, other than in the movies? I sure hadn't. After giving Uncle Sam his cut of the $16,633.47 jackpot, The Pony walked out with $11,976.11.

It will be a Christmas Eve to remember!

The Big Jackpots Always Go to Other People

A Christmas routine of Thevictorians is a trip to a casino. It's been hard to coordinate these days, with Genius coming in from Pittsburgh, and The Pony working. Lucky for The Pony, his regular day off is Wednesday. So this year, he was fortunate to have off both Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day, his day off reverting to the day before.

The only time we could fit in a casino trip was Christmas Eve morning. We met in the city. I handed out the Christmas money. They can choose to save it, gamble it, buy a self-gift. Doesn't matter to me. The gift of cash is quite versatile, and requires no effort from the giver.

The Pony and I usually stick together in a casino. He is quite solicitous of me, fetching a soft drink from the dispensers, pushing in my chair when I get up, going to make change if I ask. Genius and Friend go off on their own, to try assorted slots. Hick is the lone wolf, playing weird old-fashioned slots for low bets. 

The Pony and I started at the machines where he won his hand-pay that time he forgot his driver's license. I was playing a slot like when I won my $8,600 jackpot several years ago. We were enjoying ourselves. The Pony hit multiple jackpots, but not high amounts. My machine was not kind. We decided to move on. There was a new slot we hadn't played before. A version of Huff 'n' Puff, a big bad wolf themed game. There were two side-by-side. The Pony sat down at the one on the right.

"Are you sure you want that one? It's easier for me to get up from that side."

"Yes, I'm sure. Sorry. But this is the machine I want."

Of course The Pony's slot started giving jackpots right off. Mine was limping along, not paying anything.

"You sure chose the right one! I'm going over to those. It looks like an even newer version!"

"Okay. I'll be over there in a minute. I want to see what this one does."

So off I went to a set of four slot machines called Huff 'n' Puff Money Mansion. I was going to sit down at the second one, but thought better of it. I took the first slot, at the left end of the four. This would be easier for me to get up, rather than having people possibly sit on each side of me, making me try to move the chair straight back. It was fun playing a new version, but I wasn't getting any jackpots. I wanted to see how they worked.

As I was standing up to leave, the person who had sat down on my right hit a jackpot. I stood behind my chair to see how it played out. Well! That person went all the way to the top of the bonus, and won the GRAND progressive jackpot! That person was...

THE PONY!!!

Here's a picture after it happened, when the GRAND has alread re-set.

In case you can't read the small print on that triangle symbol that pops up for a big win:

THE PONY WON $16,633.47 !!! On a dollar bet.

Yeah. It couldn't happen to a more deserving gambler. After working so hard, being a chew toy for assorted canines on his route, The Pony had some GOOD luck!

More on this memorable experience tomorrow...

Let the Feasting Begin

It wouldn't be the day after Christmas without pictures of Thevictorians' feast.

Hick knows how to fill a plate!

Genius and Friend are all set to dig in as soon as The Pony snaps a pic.

The Pony certainly knows how to strap on the ol' feedbag.

Apparently, I do not know how to fill a plate. I don't know what I was thinking.

My salad was the main focus. I LOVE that 7 Layer Salad!

Anyhoo... we were well fed. The menu was ham, deviled eggs, hash brown casserole, roasted vegetables, 7 Layer Salad, potato salad, Sister Schubert's Rolls, and desserts of Oreo Cake, banana nut bread, blueberry bread.

I'm looking forward to the leftovers!

A Little Filler to Tide You Over While Digesting Your Christmas Feast

I've been a little busy these past few days. No time to prepare a story that twists and turns like a pig's tail. But I AM offering you a quick view of the (partial) swag we received from the abstract company at the closing on Bargain House.

First of all, I must reveal that it came in a bright red canvas bag emblazoned with the name and phone number of the abstract company. Tax deductible expense, you know. Promotional merchandise. I gave the bag to The Pony on Tuesday when he came out.

It's not that these are valuable items that everybody wants to possess. It's just the idea that you're getting SOMETHING for "FREE." Even though it cost us $35,000. Well. Much less than that to the abstract company. Not much at all for their percentage.

Anyhoo... here's most of what we got:

There are three pens. You're crazy if you don't appreciate a good free pen, says the former teacher Val. A big notepad and a small notepad. A pretty blue cloth for cleaning your glasses. A rubbery flag keyring, and a metal oval keyring. Two letter opener thingies. An emery board. A magnetic fridge magnet. And most curious of all, that red pouch dealybobber. You can't see it here, but the black edge of the pouch is open, and inside is a circular object. It fits, because it's twisted. It opens up into a flat Frisbee kind of thing. There were two, but I had a use for the other. Eventually that story will be told.

Anyhoo, I gave The Pony the bag, to use it to carry home the other three items: coffee mugs! No, The Pony doesn't drink coffee. Nor do Hick or I. The Pony wanted them to make a mug cake. THREE, apparently!

Like I said, this is just filler. There's a big story waiting to be told... No. It does not involve the sale or purchase of flip houses.

The Unveiling of Bargain House

I had asked Hick to get me some pictures of Bargain House, our newly-acquired flip property.

"Do it on a sunny day. Nothing gloomy."

Well. You know how compliant Hick is with Val's requests. At least you can get an idea of what a $35,000 house looks like around here.

Bargain House is on a corner lot in a quiet neighborhood. There were a few trees growing up against the front, blocking the big window. Hick already had his "tree man" cut them down. Didn't cost a cent! The guy did it so he could have the wood. Voila! Free labor, and the mess cleaned up. Hick is a genius sometimes.

Here's a view from the side street, of the back porch. Hick first thought about tearing the whole thing off, cutting through the metal roof with his saw. Since the roof is in good shape, he has decided to enclose part of that area to make a mud room that can house a washer and dryer. The rest he will leave as a covered patio space. The screens will be torn off and left open, and the rotten lumber will be replaced.

Hick says he has to secure the cellar. Not sure exactly where that entrance would be, but Hick says he doesn't want a person living down there. 

"The water heater and furnace are in the cellar. So it's warm, and someone could get hot water by turning the valve on the water heater."

The siding will clean up with a power washer, and does not need replacing. Hick will think about leaving the air conditioner, or asking a buddy about a different cooling system. He pointed out where the electricity comes in, and says it will be easy to upgrade it with whatever those thingies are called.

Still waiting for pictures from the inside. 

Another Hickism

Wednesday morning, I asked Hick if he was ever going to leave. Him not having a current project has wreaked havoc with my routine. Hick is usually up at 5:30 a.m., and gone by 6:15. Without a purpose, he has been sleeping in. Until 7:00. Then he hangs around a bit. That's usually when I doze off after my 6:00 phone call to The Pony.

"I'm waiting for the hardware store to open. The gal don't get there before 8:00. I'll leave in a few minutes. By the time I get my donut, she'll be open."

"What do you need from the hardware store?"

"I need some... uh, well... heh, heh. They're called sex bolts. They have another name, but everybody calls them sex bolts. They have one end that goes into another end."

"Like nuts and bolts?"

"No. One side's not threaded. They just fit inside each other. And then nothin' don't stick out. They're used for stuff like holding a saw blade in the handle. Or parts of a gun or BB gun. I need some to make repairs to some of my inventory at my shop."

I kind of understood when he gave the saw blade example. Then later Hick came home with a paper sack of sex bolts, and showed me a couple.

"She didn't have as many as I wanted. Said nobody does. The supplier is out. I need to find somewhere to get my sex bolts."

I'm not sure EVERYBODY calls these gadgets by that name. I've never heard it before.

A Yearly Treat

We met my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel on Thursday, to have lunch with her and her husband. Our meeting place is a little restaurant on our way to Casino Town. No, we did not go to the casino. It's a busy time getting ready for Christmas. Mabel and I exchange gifts, and she gets a whole batch of Chex Mix, while I receive handmade chocolate-covered cherries, made by Mabel's own hands. Maybe I can get a picture of those in the future. Today, you're here for a respite from Bargain House talk, to feast with your eyes.

We arrived at 11:00. Hick was happy, because that meant he could still order from the breakfast menu. He had what I think was called Breakfast 2.

That's biscuits with gravy, sausage patties, hash browns, and two fried eggs over medium. Oh, and not soda, but tea for Hick's beverage.

 I had the chicken bacon sandwich, with fries. That's mayo and ketchup on the side. This picture doesn't really do my sandwich justice. So I'll give you a side view:

Thick, juicy chicken breast. And you can see the tomato on top, and melted pepperjack on the chicken. I did not want the lettuce on mine. What you can't see is my pickle spear hiding behind the sandwich. I love a good dill pickle.

Mabel had a classic cheeseburger. Her favorite, the Smoked Gouda Pork Burger, is only served on Mondays. She has commanded that we return in January, ON A MONDAY, to eat this burger. I'm game!

Mr. Mabel had pancakes, modeled here by Mabel's own chocolate-covered-cherry-making hands. Poor Mr. Mabel endured some dental work the previous day, and can only eat soft foods for about a month! I don't have sympathy for many people, but I DO have sympathy for Mr. Mabel. I hate going to the dentist. He had a bruised jaw, like my mom used to get from the dentist. He also had some scrambled eggs to accompany the pancakes.

Hick and I devoured every morsel on our plates, but Mabel and her mister did not. We are gluttonous locusts when we go out, consuming everything in sight. Keep your hands and feet away from our mouths! If you like looking online at food pictures and menus, here's a link. I was waffling between that chicken sandwich, and the smoked turkey/bacon sandwich, and the kettle beef. I guess we can go back more often so I can try them all!

A nice visit was had by all. Mabel updated me on the latest happenings with mutual acquaintances, and Hick and Mr. Mabel talked nonstop about nothing. I swear, those two could have their own TV show about nothing. At least it's like nothing to me. Cars, guns, flip houses, flea market stores...

Can you believe they all tried to tell me how glorious knee replacement surgery can be??? I swear, for a minute, I thought this whole reunion was a cleverly-planned intervention! Two things DID pique my interest. "They have units in the hospital where you can stay and get physical therapy for up to 10 days, or you can go home the same day." And, "You will be able to do things in the afternoon that you couldn't do in the morning before your surgery."

We'll see what January brings. For sure, it won't be bringing me a knee replacement. 

The Closing Comes to a Close

As a closer of several houses, I have come to not-stress as much as I used to as the date looms. It's not the part about making a commitment to pay tens of thousands of dollars, or to accept them from somebody else. It's the actual event. The time I am trapped sitting at a conference table, making small talk while waiting to sign papers and have my driver's license copied. At least I know the layout of the abstract company where we have been closing our deals. The facilitator is kind and businesslike, and gets it over with quickly. And Hick and The Pony are there to draw any attention away from me.

Wednesday, I picked up The Pony, drove a couple miles back to the office, and waited for time to go in, or for Hick to arrive. A car parked behind me while T-Hoe was still rolling.

"Oh, no! I think that's Realtor behind us. I wonder if she wanted this parking space. I could pull up to the handicap space. But then I'd have to walk farther back to the steps to get to the ramp."

"You're fine, Mom." Just then a lady walked past the passenger side, and The Pony said (louder than I felt was necessary) "It IS Realtor!"

"Shh! She heard that!"

"Well, it IS her. So it's not like I said anything bad."

"Oh, no. I bet she sits in my chair! You know, because it's on the end. We haven't used a realtor before, but I bet that's where they sit. And the Abstract Lady at the other end."

"It will be fine, Mom. I'll hold your chair so it doesn't roll back when you sit down."

"I hope there's room for that against the wall..."

Hick drove up, and parked across the street. We all went inside. Abstract Lady was holding the door open for us. We went into the conference room, and indeed, Realtor was in MY seat! Not that she knew, of course. Most people don't go to these things often enough to have their own chair. I was able to get past Hick, already seated in HIS chair, and get situated with The Pony's help. Coincidentally, The Pony sat at the other end of the table, opposite Realtor. Abstract Lady sat across from Hick.

Abstract Lady summarized the pages, and showed where our signatures were needed. On the second form, I noted that my middle initial was wrong! "Oh, we'll need to change that. Here. I marked it out. Just write yours in, and initial." So I did. On all the forms! The Pony and I are sure the error was because Hick went by before they drew up the papers, and his chicken-scratch writing made it indecipherable. He DID say that Realtor had told him to sign my name to save time.

Anyhoo... when we were gathering the TEN-DOLLAR cashier's check from the bank, I had asked Hick if the amount due at closing had been adjusted for the $500 of earnest money he had put down with the contract when he started the title search at the Abstract Company. He said it was. He had called Realtor (who was at a doctor's appointment that day) to get the amount due. She had checked with Abstract Lady and gave him the amount over the phone.

Anyhoo... when we got to the page showing the financial details, such as who was paying the 2024 taxes due, and current utilities, I elbowed Hick. "Did you ask about the $500 earnest money?" He asked Abstract Lady if it had been included, and she said that it had. She pointed to that part on the form. Hick looked at it.

"But it shows here that it wasn't subtracted."

Abstract Lady looked again. "Oh. That's right. We'll cut you a check for $500 before you leave."

Then a discussion ensued about how the amounts are listed, with Realtor saying she always expects the final number in the column to be the amount due, but this form had the total in the next-to-last line, and then showed the $500 had already been paid. So it seemed an honest mistake, either in the writing of the form, or the perception by Realtor. Even my conspiracy theory mind does not suspect Realtor and Abstract Lady of running a scam to split an extra $500. I think Abstract Lady was a bit embarrassed by that little faux pas.

Anyhoo... Abstract Lady went to copy our IDs, and a set of documents for us. Hick chatted with Realtor, who said, 

"If you get your other property divided, I can sell those houses in no time! Especially the little one. So many people call about it. That's the one they see, on the main street as they go by. It's a cute little house. 

I'm from the era where you saved money for a down payment, and then got a loan to buy a house. These days, there are so many programs where you can get a house without a down payment. You wouldn't believe the number of people I get who want to put $100 down with me to make an offer, but then ask me if I can wait on cashing the check until their payday!

The thing with your houses is that no government loan program is going to loan anybody money with nothing down if there is a way for them to make money on that property. Like having a second house to rent. The loan is what's holding it up. With the houses having separate addresses, on different streets, I'm pretty optimistic that the city will let you divide them."

The things you learn! So that division process is underway, with a date of mid-January for the decision. 

Anyhoo... Abstract Lady came back with a little bag of goodies for us (sometime I'll give you a photo), and the best goody of a $500 check. The Pony and I went from there to Casey's, where I bought him that $500 winning scratcher. So I was instrumental in "earning" us $1000 that day!

It pays to roll with Val!

The Ink Is Barely Dry on the Closing Documents

We just signed the papers to officially own Bargain House on Wednesday. On Thursday, Hick was already furnishing that purchase.

On the way to meet my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel for lunch, we passed a driveway with something at the end.

"Did you see that? I think it was a sink! If it's still there, I'm stopping on the way home!"

"Well. At least you'll be on the right side of the road for it then..."

"I'll pull into their driveway!"

Hick is as lucky about finding furnishings for flip houses as I am with finding winning scratchers! That sink WAS still there two hours later as we headed home. 

"Get me a picture!"

Hick is not great with picture composition. But at least this one was not a small item of interest in a giant panoramic view. Though I could have done without his shadow.

"This will be great for the new house's bathroom! It will save me about $150. The faucet by itself is probably worth $70. And there's two little water connector pipes on the back. They're $10 each."

As Hick was leaving that random driveway, he saw something on the gravel.

"Did I leave some trash? Maybe it fell out of the car. I can't leave trash behind."

He got out to pick it up. It was that Walmart plastic bag shown in the sink. Hick didn't look in it yet. He thinks it was some kind of pipe that goes with the sink.

Anyhoo... a sink has fallen into Hick's lap. The Pony was almost as excited as Hick, when I sent the picture to inform him of the free sink.

Of All the Random Randomness

I picked up The Pony on Wednesday (his day off) to go to the closing for the Bargain House. The Pony had forgotten to pick up a card for Hick's birthday, so I said we had time to swing by Country Mart. The Pony mentioned that while inside getting the card, he could pick us up some scratchers. However, when The Pony got in T-Hoe, he said he had forgotten his cash in the house.

"Never mind. I'm going by there later anyway, to get the Sister Schubert's Rolls for Christmas Dinner. And I already planned to get some scratchers. I've been getting the gift tickets this week. So no big deal."

The Pony got the card. He gave Hick a candy bar ("If Dad doesn't want it, I'll eat it!") and a gift card to a local pub where Hick has eaten before. "Somebody on my route gave it to me, and made sure to tell me that it expires December 31. I don't go there, but I know Dad had eaten there before."

After the closing, we drove a block to the School-Turn Casey's.

"I'm going in to use their bathroom and get some lottery tickets."

"Oh. Well. I forgot my money, but I was really feeling like a $50 ticket."

"I might have enough money with me..."

"I'll go in and get my money when your drop me off."

So in I went. The bathroom was occupied. I went to the counter for my tickets. They had two $50 tickets in their case. I had not planned on getting one here for the gift tickets. I felt like the Sis-Town Casey's was calling me for that one. In choosing The Pony's ticket, I went against the choice I would have made for a gift ticket. I don't know why. The other one has better odds. But something about that ticket got my attention.

Out in T-Hoe, I told The Pony we should wait until we were in his driveway to scratch it. Because I didn't want to take up the single handicap space for that. The Pony was chomping at the bit, but agreed. Once we got to his house, The Pony started scratching. He does the top of the ticket first. The bonus part.

He was leaning over the dashboard, where I couldn't see what he was scratching. "Mom. You're not going to believe this, but..."

The Pony won $500 on that ticket! Yes, he went in the house and brought me money to pay for it. I was shocked. I never expected this ticket to win anything. I guess I just can't help my luck!

Bargain House, Not Quite Ready to Make Its Debut

Tuesday, I asked Hick to get some pictures of our newest purchase (as of TODAY), Bargain House. He drives by that area on his way to the Senior Center, where he was going to deliver presents to the people who also have their meals delivered.

"Be careful you don't get bit!" I said, meaning by pets, but with an uneasy realization that it could be by a person, since that one lady last year started ranting about her neighbor getting a bigger present. As if Hick can see inside to know what the gift is.

"Heh, heh! I won't get bit! I'm just the driver. My buddy is the one who gets out to deliver the gifts. I'll sit in the car."

Which made me wonder if it's the same buddy who got bitten in the armpit by a dog too tall for the fence, while delivering meals last month.

Anyhoo... Hick had driven by Bargain House the day before, just to see if people were still trying to get inside from seeing the listing, which has been coded as PENDING, but is still online.

"I didn't see nobody there, but the ladder was gone out of the back yard. And it looked like something had been drug across the back porch. I can't remember what was there that was big enough to do that. I tried the doors, and nobody can get inside."

"Get me some pictures. Outside and inside. It's not that big."

"I don't want to do that right now, in case the seller comes by to get some of their stuff. That might be where the ladder went."

"Oh. Well. It's just another day or two."

I'm sure you're just as eager as I am to get a peek! 

Allowing Hick to Deal with Financial Matters Is Like Lighting a Ticking Time Bomb

We have the closing on our newest flip house on Wednesday. Yeah! That WAS exceptionally quick! Ten days from viewing, offer, and close. It was Monday when Hick found out the amount of money due at closing. He had gone by the office of our Realtor. Saw her car, but she wasn't there. A phone call revealed that she was in the city for a routine medical appointment. She called Hick back with the amount.

On our last purchase, Hick wanted one check to present at closing. So we pulled money from our sources, and put it in one account, and drew a cashier's check from that account. This time, Hick decided we should take two cashier's checks, one from each source, because it would be easier. Okay. Not my problem, since he was doing the legwork. 

Thing is, last Friday Hick asked a representative of one financial institution if they needed a cashier's check for us to deposit into the account, to draw one cashier's check from it. She said they could take a personal check.

WHAT?

I asked Hick if he told her the amount. Oh. Well. No. He did not. I thought that might make a difference. Even though we've had money there for over 35 years, surely they have a policy in place for the amount of money they can accept from a personal check. So I called to ask. Huh. The gal, upon hearing the amount we would be depositing, said that a cashier's check would be easier to deal with. 

Again, not a problem. We just needed to know, since time is of the essence, and with only one day for the transfer, we didn't want to have a hold on the check. So I informed Hick, who said Realtor gave him the bright idea of just bringing TWO cashier's checks, one from each institution. 

Off Hick went to the bank. An experience he found off-putting.

"I told them I was there to get a cashier's check for closing on a house, and the gal told me it would cost me ten dollars! I was NOT happy. I asked her why. We've been banking there forever. We have more than twice the amount of that check in our account. You would think that was good enough for them just to give us a cashier's check. They used to do it for no charge, back when we bought the QuickFlip in the summer. I was so mad I almost said, 'Then just give me all my money. I'm taking it out.' But I didn't So we had to pay ten dollars to get the cashier's check."

That's a relief. I hate to think of Hick carting around all that money. It gives me visions of Hick wallowing in it like Scrooge McDuck.

On the Route

The rain poured down all day on Saturday. Hopefully, The Pony did not break out in a mystery rash again. I'm sure I would have been privy (heh, heh, I said privy) to that information. After all, The Pony shared a part of his day with me on break, and after work.

I imagine The Pony was singing in his head when he texted:

"Someone, left a cupcake, in the rain..." With a musical note emoji thingy after it.

"But it took so long to bake it, and they'll never have the recipe again!"

Looks like somebody already took a little bite out of one side. Or maybe the rain was particularly heavy on that side. It's not like a treat somebody might have left out for their mailman. The Pony said he has gotten some holiday sweets from a few houses. I'm sure he uses discernment when considering whether they are worth ingesting.

Later, leaving work, The Pony sent another text:

"A lifted truck with at least seven people dressed as elves in the bed just drove past me."

"What in the randomness???"

"It was by Country Mart. Maybe Salvation Army type bell-ringers? But. So many..."

Never a dull moment in a day on the job with The Pony.

Oh, I Almost Forgot

With all the excitement of discovering and buying a new flip house on Monday and Tuesday, I almost forgot to share my OTHER excitement with you.

That's a $3 ticket, and I won $500 on it! Pretty good deal, I'd say. I knew I had five rows that won. I assumed the prize under each would be $3. That's what I usually win on them, though a while back I think I had a $100 winner.

This ticket is not sold many places now. Their $3 slot is taken by the current Christmas ticket, which is not nearly as fun. Maybe because I haven't won $500 on it, heh, heh!

Anyhoo... this big winner came out of the left machine at 10Box. It's number 015. A roll of these tickets goes up to 099. Here's my dilemma: do I continue to play out of that machine? The other machine ran out of these tickets. I'm pretty sure there's not a bigger winner on this roll. Probably not even a decent winner. Do I get the Christmas tickets instead, even though they're kind of boring, and hope for something good? Or do I buy more of these tickets I enjoy off that roll I have already taken the big winner from?

Decisions, decisions. Val people problems.

I Would Walk 200 Feet

Sorry, I can't get that "500 Miles" song out of my head. It's on my playlist that I listen to when I scratch my lottery winners tickets, and the tale Hick told on Tuesday reminded me of it. You know Hick. What comes out of his mouth is not always what his brain thinks it's revealing.

"I went to talk to the people at the city. The lady there told me I have to walk around 200 feet to hand each person a handwritten letter and then they will think about it and see if we can split the flip houses."

"Um. Okay. I'm not sure about this. A HANDWRITTEN letter? Do you mean one that you make up in your head, and then type out? Or do you mean an actual letter written with your hands?"

"I mean we don't need no lawyer. Just a handwritten letter that you can type and I'll go make copies of."

"So you have to go to the meeting and walk around and hand it to each person on the committee? I don't get the 200 feet. Are they that far apart at the meeting? What if somebody needs a scooter to get around?"

"It's not to hand them to the committee, Val! I have to get on the agenda for the scheduled meeting, and that gal I talked to will make sure they all have a copy of the letter."

"The handwritten letter that I'm going to type up for you to make copies."

"Yes!"

"You're gonna have to help me out here. I still don't know what you're talking about."

"You cain't understand NOTHIN'! They're going to give me a map with a circle on it. I have to walk around and hand out a copy of the letter to houses within 200 feet of the flip house."

"Oh. That makes more sense. So you just put it in their mailbox? That's illegal!"

"I knock on their door and hand it to them, and tell them what it says. That we want to split the property. And if they have any objections, they go to the meeting and tell the Planning and Zoning Commission. They have 15 days to do it. We don't have to mail it certified letter. If they're not home, I can stick it in their door or put it in their mailbox."

"The letter that might be handwritten or typed."

"It's just a LETTER! We don't need no lawyer to draw it up. Just a letter telling them what we want to do! And I have to walk the property and measure it, and give them a picture showing where I want to divide it. And the lady will put the Lot and Plat number on it for the county, unless you have that from the tax bills you just paid, and you can write it on there."

"Then how is the county going to know to send out future tax bills?"

"IF the whole thing gets approved by the Planning and Zoning Commission, we have to get a surveyor to split the property, and then we tell the county so they know to give it a different number."

"That sounds really confusing. But promising. Like it might not be impossible to split it."

"I can't imagine anybody around there objecting. I don't think 200 feet will even reach any other houses on that one side. Across from the Beauty Shop is a preacher, so he will understand what we want to do. (?) And on the side is the guy we bought it from, and next to him is his grown daughter. They won't care. Across the side street is them guys renovating that big house. They don't care. And across the alley is that two-unit apartment. So I can't imagine that owner would object."

"Are you going to tell them that you want to split it so you can sell it easier, rather than have an investor buy it to rent?"

"I ain't tellin' them nothing except we want to split it into two properties. The commission knows why. But I don't think the people need to know."

"If I was living there, I'd rather have neighbors who BOUGHT the house. They're more likely to take care of it than a stream of renters."

"Yeah. I might tell them if they ask me why. That I don't want to rent the houses and have them tore up. I'd rather sell them separately than rent the two."

"I imagine people are not going to open their door. They'll pretend they're not home, because they'll see some crazy guy with a paper knocking on their door. So you'll just be leaving the letter for them."

"Maybe."

It looks like the task of splitting the Double Hovel will take several steps, and a bit of time, but it doesn't seem impossible. That's a good thing.

More In the Good News Department

While Hick was in Realtor's office asking to tour the $35,000 house, he learned some interesting information.

"I could sell that little house of yours. People call all the time asking about it. Because it's so small. Then I have to tell them that it can't be bought separately."

Good to know! There's a lot of interest. I suppose they see the sign in the front yard of the Beauty Shop, walk around and take a peek inside, and then call the number on the sign to ask about the price.

"That's a good thing. I would have thought the big house would have more people wanting it. They can see through the shades that the Beauty Shop is really small. Probably single people, old people, or a young couple."

"The problem is the loan. Because it's more than one house, and considered an investment property, they have to put 20 percent down. They can't get a VA loan or something else like that."

"She's not going to make much off this $35,000 sale, is she. What, a few hundred dollars? Because it's a split listing."

"No. She'll get two-and-a-half percent."

"I know. That's what I'm saying. Ten percent would be $3,500. Five would be $1,750. And two-and-a-half would be $875."

"Yeah. Just for taking 15 minutes to drive across town and walk through it with me, and then do the paperwork. That's pretty good money for that effort."

I suppose so, since that's what you've done for years, and know how it works. Not as glamourous as selling the $999,999 property, but still worthwhile, with it not even being her listing. Hick said some of his buddies saw it on Zillow. Realtor said she had thought about getting on Zillow, but she didn't know if it was worth it to pay their fee. She said she relies on word-of-mouth to steer people to her. Hick agreed. That's how his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) business runs.

"I could get ads on the radio, but I don't think it would bring me no more business than my customers telling their friends."

"So now that you know people want the Beauty Shop, are you going to talk to the city people again about splitting the flip houses?"

"I'm going up there anyway to talk to them about getting the water left on. So I'll ask more specifically what I need to do."

Hate to leave you with another cliffhanger... but that's a story for another day.

Stealers Gonna Steal

Hick got home from the auction after 9:00 p.m. He indeed verified that Realtor said she would call the next day to let him know if the seller accepted our offer. The listing was through another agency, and I don't know how that works. Maybe it's why she couldn't get an immediate answer, maybe not.

"I'm worried somebody else is going to offer MORE than the list price."

"I don't think so."

"You said it's a good price."

"Yeah. If you're in this business and let a house like this get away, you ain't serious about flipping houses. When I was there doing the paperwork, which took a long time, because she did it all on computer, I seen 10 appointments scheduled to look at that house!"

"Well... not everybody who looks at it will want to buy it. And some will have to talk to their wife or business partner. I'm just worried that the owner will hear about all the showings, and want to wait for a higher offer. Can they do that? Can a realtor tell them how much another offer is?"

"I don't think so. I think once a seller accepts an offer, they have to go through with it. They can't back out and wait for more money."

"That's just it. I wonder how much time they wanted to think it over. Who's selling it? What's wrong with it?"

"The old lady died, and the old man went into a nursing home. He supposedly doesn't have long to live. The son has power of attorney. He's hoping to sell it before the old man dies. Or else it might get tied up. I showed my buddy at the auction. He asked how it looked. I told him it wasn't big enough for him. He likes bigger houses. He said from the pictures that it would rent right now for $600 a month, just like it is. But I wouldn't want to rent it without upgrading the electric. He hires that kind of work out to people, but I do it myself."

We had nothing to do but wait. I had an annual doctors appointment the next morning. Hick drove me. He waited in A-Cad while I was inside, playing with his phone, which he has linked to the radio thingy to get calls while driving. When I finally came out at 10:20, we were still leaving the parking lot as the radio rang. It was Realtor.

"Looks like you bought yourself a house!"

WooHoo! I immediately sent a text to The Pony. Who replied: "Woo!!!"

Off Hick and I went to the abstract company, to leave our earnest money deposit check (Realtor had told Hick she couldn't take it unless our offer was accepted). Hick drove me home, switched to SilverRedO, and went back to town. He had asked Realtor if he could lock up the doors, which had been open since the day before. Realtor had not even needed a key to get in to show Hick. She said that yes, he could lock it up. 

There were a bunch of fishing poles hanging on the back porch, and some tools sitting on a shelf. Realtor said the seller didn't say if they wanted those items, but that she had said they could remain. Of course Hick wanted those items!

"I bet people are still looking at that house today. You SHOULD get it locked up."

"Yeah. I'm going to put a screw in the front door to keep it from opening, so people don't just walk in."

"What about the back door? Can't you nail it shut?"

"No. It opens in. I have a doorknob at my locker. I'll bring it back on my way home, and put it on."

Hick went by New House to put in the screw, and called me.

"Huh. I came over to the house, and there was three guys inside! They was looking around. They were flippers. I told the guy he was too late, that I just bought it. And he said they were going to offer MORE than the listing price!"

"SEE? Val was right again! You better get that house locked up. I'm sure more people will be stopping by. I guess if they plan on making an offer, they're not going to steal anything. But someone could. Or move in!"

"Somebody had turned up the heat to 85! Maybe to see if it works."

"There you go! Can't you get a doorknob around there close? Who knows how many people might go in before you get back from your locker!"

"Yeah. I think I need to go to Walmart and get a new doorknob to lock it up. And I'm putting the fishing poles and tools in the house. Most of it's been cleaned out. Like there's no dishes or furniture or anything. I can give Realtor a key in case the seller wants to get that stuff."

Heh, heh. We've owned the house for less than an hour, and there's already drama!

The Steal of the Century?

Let's face it, people. The days of buying a $17,000 house are over. Oh, how I rue progress. Hick has no more buddies willing to offer him a house for $5000. So we've been in the doldrums while casually seeking a new flip house.

The Pony often sends me listings he's seen. Nothing has been under $65,000. That's not worth it for us to purchase and put money into for flipping. You have to know what you're buying, and Hick has a head for renovating. Even that foreclosure that he was interested in with a couple hours of notice was not right for us. I told him that something will come along when it's meant to be.

Monday when I sat down at the kitchen table and turned on HIPPIE, I went immediately to realtor.com. I usually don't check it every day. And when I do look, it's before I go to town around 2:00. But here it was, 11:45, and I saw a listing that had been up for 1 hour. It was a $35,000 house. Only one picture, from the outside, from Google Earth. It actually looked like a big tree ball. You could barely see a sliver of front door and mailbox in the foliage. I knew the general area of the street, and the town.

I sent Hick a text about it, telling him there were no inside pictures, which was suspect. But that on his way to the auction that afternoon, he might want to drive by and look to see if it was a stinky hoarder house, or what was wrong with it. He didn't respond, so I called.

Hick was on the way to his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) to meet with a bunch of local law enforcement officers to draw the winner of a raffle they were holding for an item he donated to raise money for Shop With A Cop. They raised $613 with Hick's item! Hick even wore a button-up collared shirt for the occasion! He couldn't get away until after the drawing.

I sent The Pony a text. He remembered that area from delivering mail there when he first started. Said the neighborhood was good. 

Back to Google Earth. A 360 view revealed some roof that looked metal and fairly new. It was 2BR 1 Bath. A four-room house, with a cellar, on a corner lot.

Hick sent me a text at 2:15.

"It don't look bad from outside ill run buy realtor's. There is some inside pictures now"

I was getting ready for town, and told him I'd look later. At 2:45, Hick called me while I was in T-Hoe at a stoplight.

"We went and looked. Two more people had appointments after me. I'm heading back over there to offer the full amount and sign papers! I have my auction cash if she wants earnest money."

Hick was in a hurry. Not a problem this time. The Pony and I were both all-in for going after this house. Of course then Hick went off to the auction, so we were left in the dark. I told The Pony I was afraid there might be a bidding war. Houses this cheap don't stay available for long. The last one like it, Hick waited three days before driving by, and it was already under contract. The Pony sent me a text on his way home.

"I guess we won't know until tomorrow at the earliest..."

Ain't that always how it goes?