Val's Personal Stylist

I got a notice a while back that my driver's license needs to be renewed. I've only known it would happen for six years now. That's when I last renewed. It wreaked havoc with a casino visit, because my new license had not yet arrived by mail. Can you believe they wouldn't take the expired one??? Even though it was clearly me, and had been me for all the years I used that license there before it expired. Just like bad milk, Val was good one day, and poison the next! At least I had that tiny slip of paper the DMV gave me to use during the interim. Which was perfectly fine with those casino people, even though it seems to me that such a "document" could be more easily faked than a laminated picture license.

Anyhoo... I am not looking forward to this renewal. It's only in Backroads, a ten minute drive from home. But that office sits over the gaping collapsing hole down into the lead mines. I do not want to dawdle! Also, I do not relish having my picture taken. My lovely lady-mullet is quite straggly. I make no pretense of coloring it since I've retired, and don't need to present a less-feeble front to 180 students per day who might be tempted to overthrow my authority.

Anyhoo... I asked Hick if he would trim my hair. Just the length, back to shoulder level. He did it before with not-too-bad results. The Pony did a great job one time, while living here right after college. Then the second time not-so-great. I'm hoping it was not one of those "so she'll never ask me again" tactics.

Anyhoo... Hick came home between gallivanting and the auction, so I commanded that he accompany me to the back porch overlooking POOLIO. Believe me, it was tough handing Hick a pair of scissors and turning my back!

We had just begun, two hanks of hair cut, when Hick's phone rang. He not only stopped to look at the caller, but he ANSWERED the call! He not only answered the call, but he KEPT CUTTING WHILE TALKING!!! The dogs were so shocked at this behavior that they got up from their spectating area and walked around by the kitchen. It didn't take long for Hick to finish. Thankfully with both hands again.

"I hope this isn't too bad. You know it might be the last picture I ever have taken. Six more years. That might be my last driver's license before I die!"

The Pony snickered when I said I was going to get my license renewed this week. "Make sure you take a good picture, heh, heh!" 

Seriously. How much worse could it be? Surely no worse than my worst-ever driver's license picture, that even made my own mom laugh uncontrollably. 

The picture Genius set to come up when I called his cell phone. He said it made my head look like a view of the earth from space.

The picture The Pony said made me look like a cross between a person from a giant communist country known for making cheap knockoffs, and an inebriated south-of-the-border person. Oh, and I believe that description began with the word "bloated." [No offense to any people who have giant communist country heritage, nor those south of the border, nor alcoholics, nor bloated people!]

I can hardly wait to see how my driver's license picture turns out! NOT! I will probably be put on a watch list. If I'm not already on there from ordering a 3rd Grade Pony his requested Christmas present of a computer CD to learn Arabic.

The Despair Was Palpable

Saturday, I dashed into 10Box for scratchers from their lottery machines up front. Dang it! The machine on the right had an OUT OF ORDER sign taped to it! Oh, well. The other was still in operation. As I scanned my winners in for credit, I heard a crash. Shattering glass.

When I turned, I saw an older lady at the end of the checkout. She had bagged her groceries, as it the policy at 10Box. A bag had fallen through the child-seat part of the cart, where she hadn't flipped up the plastic seat thingy. A bag was on the tile floor, leaking clear amber liquid.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! The bag fell through!"

The staff got on the PA system right away, calling for a clean-up. The glass had been contained by the plastic bag. Only the liquid was a problem. A guy came right away. Got a mop and bucket. "At least it smells good!" 

I turned back to buying my scratchers. I felt bad for that lady. Not just for the embarrassment. I knew that was some kind of alcohol, whiskey, most likely. Because soda is darker than that, and doesn't come in glass bottles at 10Box. It was Saturday. The first of the month. When people who are retired, or on some kind of assistance, get their money. They do their shopping for the month. What a disappointment for this old lady, having just purchased her alcohol, then having it flowing over the tile.

I told The Pony later that evening: "I felt so bad for her. If I was able to walk, I would have asked her if I could go get her another bottle. I would have paid. It just hurt me knowing what a disappointment that must have been for her. But I'm sure she wouldn't want to wait for the length of time it would take me to get a cart and walk over to replace it, and wait in line to pay."

"Yeah. I hope the store people offered to get her another bottle. For free. It would be good PR for them, if somebody talked about it. Which you know they would."

"If I was a manager there, I would pay out of my own pocket for her. But I know not everybody can afford to do that. It's just the idea of it being the weekend, and a 'payday' of sorts, and how people look forward to that. Then having the bottle break. It's like having the scoop fall off your ice cream cone right after you get it!"

Anyhoo... I don't know if anybody offered to help that old lady or not. I left as they were mopping up the liquid.

Val. The #1 Would-Be Enabler in Backroads.

Val's Dish Goes Uneaten

Revenge is a dish best served cold.

The RumpusHole in the white Ford F250 who takes the handicap space at the Gas Station Chicken Store continues to plague Val. Dirty looks, a phone lifted to take his picture, Val limping past the front of his truck while he's inside... nothing deters him from parking in that space unless VAL IS ALREADY IN IT!

A week or two ago, I pulled in as RumpusHole turned in from the back alley, thwarting his plan! He did not park right in front of T-Hoe, in the FREE AIR space, but continued across the lot to park by the moat. It was one of those single-digit-temp days, and he was wearing shorts. Bwah ha ha! His prancing across the windblown lot warmed the cockles of Val's heart.

Anyhoo... there have been several days that he's beat me to that space. I drive on through and visit my other store(s) or use the time to drop off mail at the dead-mouse-smelling post office. Anything to take up at least the 20 minutes that he's usually inside.

Friday, I'd been shopping at 10Box. Back in T-Hoe, I was getting ready to write my receipt total in my checkbook register, and mark the back of my scratchers so I'd know where they came from. I checked the time, and it was 3:20. Oh, no! Rumpushole usually shows up at 35 minutes past the hour. Most often it's 3:35, but that might be because it's the time I'm there. I've also encountered him at 2:25.

Anyhoo... I set my receipt and tickets down, and went straight to the Gas Station Chicken Store. Got my rightful handicap space. When I came out, it was 3:35. Huh. Might as well take the opportunity to record my purchase from 10Box. And mark my tickets I got there, and also from the GSCS. That took about 10 minutes.

Sadly, there was no sign of RumpusHole. Such a disappointment. My cold dish of revenge went uneaten. It will be served again.

Making Work When There is None

Hick is not a slacker. When he has no projects, he makes one up. Just before the never-melting ice/sleet/snow storm hit on January 4, Hick was between jobs. Nothing to do on the Double Hovel. Old Buddy was not feeling up to par, and couldn't assist Hick at Bargain House. The lady Hick was doing a kitchen remodel for had not yet left town on her vacation. His SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) had been rearranged. No yards needed mowing. No new themed shed on the horizon. Hick was about to crawl out of his skin.

Here's what he decided to do:

That's what every house needs, right? A giant wagon wheel on the porch, by their church pew and carved wooden Jack-O-Lantern, above the driftwood rock garden and yucca plants dug up along a rural highway.

I don't know why we would need this addition. At least it made Hick happy. For about the 20 minutes this project needed. And another 10 bragging congratulating himself for his efforts.

I get more joy from imagining Hick rolling this metal wheel across the yard, hoisting it up on the porch, and trying to balance it while attaching it to the wood posts.

Still. I suppose this wheel is a positive addition for all but the dogs, who will have to alter the place they launch themselves off the porch to go barking their fool heads off at some real or imaginary threat over by the BARn.

And So It Begins: Bargain House Project

Hick has been sick with a cold. Now Old Buddy has it too. And ME! But on Wednesday, Hick and Old Buddy tore off the decrepit back porch area of Bargain House, our newest flip project. In case you've forgotten how it looked, here's a refresher:

In true Hick photography fashion, his picture sent to show me his progress was taken from far away. With the subject almost an afterthought:

I suppose he remembered after he was driving away. I can't imagine he parked SilverRedO this distance from Bargain House when he and Old Buddy were there to work. It's not like they need extra steps for exercise. Or that the street was filled with other parkers there to watch the festivities.

Here, I've tried to zoom in for you:

Bargain House is already looking better! Still a long way to go. I think Hick plans to close in part of the back porch for a laundry room.

A Mixed Message From Hick

Wednesday evening, I overheard the show Hick was watching. It happens a lot. He puts the volume way up. I recognized the voice of Josh Gates, who's on the show Expedition Unknown that Hick likes to watch. But this time, he was asking if somebody was trying to contact him.

"What in the world are you watching?"

"Expedition X. They're in a French castle, looking for paranormal activity."

"I thought you didn't believe in paranormal activity. Why are you watching that show?"

"Well, on Expedition Unknown, they sometimes find stuff. So I was watching this one to see what they're looking for."

"You never believe me or The Pony when things happen to us!"

"Last night, I was in bed and heard a big BANG. Did you close the dryer? It was loud, and right by my head. At first I thought it was the well pump blowing up."

"No. I left the laundry in the dryer until morning, after you left. It was just towels. Even if I get it out at night, I just barely push the door closed, so it doesn't make a noise. I didn't hear anything."

"It was around 1:00."

"I was awake then. Watching the end of Wildcard Kitchen, the rerun from last week."

"I don't know what it was. OOH! Something just flew by them! It gave me chills!"

"Did they show something? Or just say it flew by them?"

"I didn't see nothin'. But they flinched at the same time."

"I believe you heard something last night. But you never believe me or The Pony. I've had something poke me in the back and the neck while I was in bed, after you had left. When The Pony lived here, he would run upstairs from the basement, saying I called his name. When I didn't."

"I've had something try to push me out of bed!"

"Well. Apparently you just won't ADMIT that you believe in paranormal activity..."

The Stories They Could Tell

Sometimes you see things that don't make sense. You try to imagine the scenario that led to such a sight. You rarely discover the truth. 

The Pony sends me pictures of such sights along his route. Like the sidewalk meat. No explanation was ever discovered for that one. Here's one from Monday:

The Pony sent that picture around noon. "Well, somebody in Backroads had a bad day!"

At least it wasn't The Pony this time! It made me wonder why these spectacles were on top of this mailbox. At least that what I think they're on. What reason could there be?

If somebody fell and broke their glasses, surely they would take them inside, or along with them until the glasses could be fixed.

If an ambulance had been called for a fallen person, surely the attendants would have also scooped up the glasses to take with the patient.

It's not grass-mowing season, so a groundskeeper did not likely find the glasses and put them up. Maybe somebody shoveling snow found them. Maybe even caused the breakage. So just left them there, rather than confess and hand them over when getting paid for shoveling.

If the glasses fell out of somebody's purse or pocket, maybe that person didn't know, and a neighbor found them and put them on the mailbox if the person wasn't home. That's the most reasonable explanation, I think.

I doubt this mystery will be solved.

Clearing the Land

Hick always wanted to be a land baron. He grew up not having much. You know, just things like a home that wasn't rented, and an indoor bathroom. He has always worked for what he wanted. At the time I met him, he was excited about an upcoming tax sale. That's when there's an auction on the courthouse steps for property that has delinquent taxes for the past three years.

Hick would look through the local paper for the date of the tax sale, and to look at properties available, and make his picks. Take a day off work to attend. 

Anyhoo... Hick didn't have a lot of money to spend, being between marriages, with other financial responsibilities that came first. This was back in the mid-80s. He bought several properties for under $100 total. 

As you might imagine, they were not prime real estate. One was a narrow strip of land between a garage door business and the road. A couple were lake lots not level enough for building, but good for getting access to a lake development for recreation. A couple were in towns. We sold one of them several years ago, to a guy who had been planting his garden on it, thinking no one would be the wiser. It was a friendly transaction. No strong-arming, no lawsuit threats.

Our real estate tax list is becoming unwieldy. These properties are just an annoyance when writing out the tax payments, now that we have flip properties to deal with as well. I think the highest one is $35 or less. Some are single digit amounts. 

Anyhoo... we are listing these little properties for sale. Not the strip of land. Hick is just letting that sit there because nobody will want to buy that. Realtor told him at the closing for Bargain House that this little strip of land will be an issue if the owner of the business there tries to sell, because he won't have a clear title. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it.

Anyhoo... the best lot is in Backroads. At one time Hick thought he might put a basic house on it. Or some storage units. Then we got into the flipping business. We've listed this lot with Realtor. It does not even have a numbered street address. It's wooded.

I told The Pony we had listed our town lot, and gave him the street name.

"It's on Realtor's website now. Don't know if anybody will want it, but someone might. The description says it's on a blacktop road."

"I know where that is! It's at the end of my route. Somebody just built a house right next to it, that I deliver to. As for being on a blacktop road... well... I guess you could say that. It's where the blacktop road ends!"

"Whatever. If somebody wants land to build a house in town, it's there."

The Pony is such a jokester. He sent me a text on Saturday afternoon:

"Oh look! It's your [Town Street] land!"

"Heh, heh. Yes it is."

The Pony's picture is more descriptive than what Realtor used. That was just a map with plot numbers. Perhaps that's just as well.

Bananadrama

Is this a sign of the apopadopalyspe (as Hick calls it)? What is going on with bananas these days? I have never seen such a sight in all my years of buying and eating bananas.

Several days ago I bought these bananas at 10Box. I buy them there all the time. They have good bananas. The ones from Save A Lot are sometimes WOODY, and a couple times I got fruit flies from there. The bananas at Country Mart are often a bit too ripe by the time I get there on Thursdays. Anyhoo... I've never had a problem with 10Box bananas. Until now.

That's what I'd call a banana split, heh, heh! And not the good kind with chocolate, strawberry, pineapple, whipped cream, nuts, and a cherry.

This banana was fine when I picked it out in the store on Wednesday. It was on a bunch of five. All were fine. Mostly yellow, with a slight green tinge. The kind I always pick out. I bagged them myself, with only another bunch of slightly larger bananas for Hick. They went straight from the store to T-Hoe's rear, then had a 10-minute ride home, where Hick carried them inside and set them in the glass bowl on the kitchen counter.

Thursday I looked at that bunch of five bananas, and peeled off the one that looked most yellow. The other four were fine. Friday, I did the same. All bananas were fine. Saturday, when I picked up that bunch, THIS BANANA had a big split down the side! What in the Not-Heaven??? Hick had been picking from his own bunch of bananas. Can't blame him (for once)! I didn't try to eat this banana. I tossed it off the back porch and had another.

Sunday, I went to get the one remaining banana from this bunch. It had a tiny split, about an inch long. I peeled it and ate it anyway, cutting out a small light-brown sliver that was under the beginning of the split. Hick's bananas all look fine.

I've never seen this. Bruises, yes. Bananas that are hard like a tree limb. Bruises. But not a split. Other than that, these bananas were perfectly normal in appearance and taste. 

The Universe MOCKS me!

Some Good News, and Not

Hick went by the Beauty Shop half of the Double Hovel flip house on Friday to check on the frozen water line situation. THE WATER FLOWED! He said all the faucets worked again, normal pressure. There was no sign of any water leaking anywhere in the house. No sign of water leaking in the yard. 

Hick says he will continue to go by and look, just in case there's a leak underground. He doesn't think so, because a leak in the city pipe underground would most likely result in less pressure when trying the faucets in the Beauty Shop. I guess Hick's efforts with the propane heater outside where the water line comes into the house had some effect on the thawing, because temps only reached the lower 30s on Friday.

Friday afternoon, Hick had a call from Realtor with an offer on the Double Hovel from the people who viewed it on Thursday. It was for 2/3 the listed price. NOPE! This offer was $10,000 less than the previous two offers we've had.

Realtor said, "I know your answer on this offer already, but I'm obligated to make it." She agreed with Hick that such a lowball offer was an insult. The Pony asked if Hick countered with our bottom-line selling price. No. That would give legitimacy to the offer, and the prospective buyer would try to play the "split the difference/split the difference" game with us, and walk away with a giant bargain.

Realtor did not mention the demographics of the prospective buyer. For example, didn't say if it was a family wanting the extra house for a relative, or a young couple wanting to rent one house to pay the mortgage on the one they'd live in, or an investor. Realtor DID say it was a cash offer, which leads us to think it was an investor wanting to rent both properties.

Let the record show that the pricing on the Double Hovel was suggested by Realtor herself, when Hick had wanted it to be a few thousand more. So it's perfectly reasonable according to neighborhood comps. Our bottom-line price allows some wiggle room for bargaining. We're not reducing the price just because of these lowball offers.

I can't blame investors for trying to get a good deal. That's why they're investors! I'm sure sometimes their tactics work, because some people might be paying a loan on the property, as well as their own mortgage, and run into cash flow problems, and just want to get out from under their obligations. That's how we got Pony House for $23,000. A guy had torn it down to the studs, and then didn't have funds to finish the renovation. He got his money, and we got a bargain.

Anyhoo... good news on the frozen water line, and okay news on the Double Hovel viewing. At least people WANT it. They just don't want to PAY for it, heh, heh!

Rockin' Reuben

Wednesday was Reuben Sandwich day at the Senior Center! Despite his efforts to (unsuccessfully) thaw out the frozen water line at the Beauty Shop half of the Double Hovel, Hick found time to order us Reubens to carry out for supper. He has to call ahead that morning to reserve them. It's one of the most popular meals. Hick rocks! AND, he paid for them out of his own pocket, not our household money! Of course he also went there to eat one for lunch, too. 

The menu described the meal as:

Grilled Reuben

Potato Soup OR Beef Vegetable

Slaw

Crackers

Brownie or Fruit

They were mostly accurate this time. Only the dessert was different.

Hick told me first thing that "The soup was delicious!" Indeed! It was more than just orange liquid this time. Look at those noodles! And there is actually MEAT in there. If anything, it was light on the "vegetable" part. The slaw is the creamy kind. The Reuben was on the good marble rye bread.

Hick was not happy with the desserts. Would you be? He said he should have told his buddy to make sure it was two slices of pie. Hick HATES applesauce. I am neutral on it, but didn't want this version. That looks like it would be four or five individual cups of applesauce. I don't need half a jar! Besides, I always give my dessert to Hick. So this applesauce was wasted. I threw it out. As for the pecan pie... have you ever seen a sadder slice? I'm sure the taste was fine. Hick ate it, anyway.

I had asked Hick if he was bringing the Reubens home at noon. He said no, that he would store them in the refrigerator at the Beauty Shop like usual, then pick them up on his way home. I reminded him that Realtor was showing the property at 3:00. And the Beauty Shop probably shouldn't smell like kraut when they walked in! [No word back so far from Realtor, but at least I know a kraut smell won't be to blame if the viewers were not interested.]

Hick said he'd keep them in the bed of SilverRedO. For once, this made sense to me. They were in the white foam containers, inside white plastic bags, not soaking up the sun, at 35 degrees. 

Yes, a Wednesday night Reuben has so far been the high point of my week. I stayed home Sunday/Monday/Tuesday because of single-digit daytime temperatures. I went to town Wednesday and Thursday, in the 30s.

Here's the state of our gravel road down alongside the creek, on the way to Mailbox Row.

That's from Thursday. At least four inches of solid ice. Very slippery. As long as you creep along, you won't go into a spin. T-Hoe's 4WD is a comfort to me, knowing that I turned it on, even though it is no better than a regular 2WD car on the ice. IF I would slide off the road, at least T-Hoe would get traction on the rough parts where some melting has occurred.

MAYBE a thaw will start today. It's been since January 4, people, when that storm dumped this on us! And maybe Reubens will be on the Senior Center menu again next month.

The Flipping Curse Continues

Well. Apparently The Universe is not satisfied with merely taunting us on the Double Hovel. Now Bargain House has entered the act.

Hick was not able to thaw out the frozen water line at the Beauty Shop on Thursday, his second try. He's sure the frozen area is in the city water line between the street and the front door. He'll just have to wait on the weather. He's hoping the pipe didn't burst. Just froze the water inside, with that frigid dirt packed around the pipe.

Hick turned his efforts to Bargain House. He and Old Buddy tore off the part of the back porch area that was sagging. He burned the trashed materials. No ordinance against that! Also, he took all the junk mail out of the mailbox (thank you to the senders for paying The Pony's salary!) and burned that, too. 

Good thing Hick looked through the mail first! In an orange envelope that looked like junk was the GAS BILL! It should never have been sent to the address of Bargain House. Hick was clear when establishing service that the mailing address for the bill should be OUR HOME ADDRESS.

Hick called the gas company.

"She was the nicest person I ever talked to at a utility company! She said that shouldn't have happened. She wanted to know the account number and other stuff off the bill. She said she would correct the address. I told her the bill was due TODAY! And that I didn't want to start off being late with a bill. I said we could mail it tomorrow, but I didn't know how long it would take to get there. It says it's not delinquent until the 29th. But that doesn't mean the mail will get our payment there on time."

"Did you ask to pay over the phone?"

"No. I didn't think of that."

"I'm sure she would have connected you to the people who do that."

"Well, I didn't think of it. Maybe you can get online and pay it."

"I can probably do a one-time payment like that. It's a major company."

So that's what I did. Paid online with just the account number and zip code. Which could have been a problem, since the zip code at Bargain House is different from our home address. That's how I knew the lady Hick talked to had actually done what she said she was going to do with changing the address on the bill. Otherwise, the website would not have recognized our account.

It's always something. 

Treading (Frozen) Water

No real news to report. Hick and Old Buddy could not unfreeze the frozen water line at the Beauty Shop on Wednesday. Hick's major concern is that the pipe might have broken underground. He said the water tried to run through the pipes after the attempted thawing, but that it could not. He also said that if the city pipe supplying the house broke, it would be OUR responsibility to repair it. He's going to try working on it again Thursday. The fact that temps were in single digits for three days and nights makes me think Hick was overly optimistic in getting things thawed in one day with 30s as the high.

Anyhoo... the good news is that there were no signs of any further leaks in the main house. Hick sent a text to Realtor, informing her that the water in the Beauty Shop was frozen, and that he was working on getting it fixed. Also that he had cleared the sidewalk and steps of ice, so the entrance to both houses was accessible. She sent back a text thanking Hick for his efforts.

Meanwhile, our current insurance company says their accomplice partnering agency that insures houses under renovation will not cover Bargain House because it needs updated electrical service. Um. That is what people do to houses that need renovation! Hick is planning to do that as one of his first projects. This is a bit irritating. We are shopping other insurance companies.

Seems that our flipping status is currently 0 steps forward and 3 steps back. I'm not worried. Hick is on the case!

Hear That? It's the Sound of The Universe Chortling

For those of you following the continuing saga of Hick and Val's Folly, the purchase and flip of the Double Hovel, you know that it's always something. We made a good deal buying those two structures with our investment partner The Pony. 

Then Hick had his back surgery, which slowed down the renovations. We signed papers to list it with the Realtor on Labor Day last year. Then discovered that the people who wanted to buy the property couldn't get loans because there were TWO houses, and government programs with low/no down payments can't be used because of money-making possibilities with the second house. Leaving such a purchase basically to a developer or somebody willing to make a cash deal or put up their other properties as collateral.

Then we requested a variance from the city planning and zoning commission, to survey out the property into two lots, to be sold separately. Which was denied last week.

Oh, yeah. And with the ice/snow storm a couple weeks ago, a rainstorm Thursday night, and our arctic temperatures this week, Hick found a possible roof leak in the main house, and a frozen water line in the Beauty Shop.

Of course you know that chain of events cued The Universe to twist the ends of its Snidely Whiplash mustache, and chortle with dastardly glee.

This afternoon (Tuesday), Hick got a text from Realtor. She has an appointment to show the Double Hovel between 3:00 and 4:00 on Wednesday.

Hick was already planning to go to the Beauty Shop Wednesday morning with Old Buddy, to see what they can do about the frozen water line. The temperature is going to be in single digits Tuesday night. Getting up to high 30s by Wednesday afternoon.

"Are you going to tell Realtor about the frozen water line?"

"NO!"

"Well... if you don't get it fixed, you probably should."

"We should be able to get it cleared. And I'm going to the other house to make sure there ain't no water on the floor, either!"

This could be interesting.

When It Belows, It Freezes

Bad luck hounds the Double Hovel. You'd think it was overflow bad luck from The Pony not having enough avenues to suffer these days!

The main house is still doing fine, after Hick had discovered the heat off and some water on the kitchen floor last week. While he was checking it on Monday morning, he also went over to check the Beauty Shop. THE WATER FROZE!

It's not totally unexpected that the water might freeze, since the temperature was -2 degrees when Hick got there. We don't usually get that cold around here. Maybe once every year or two. I hope this is it for this year! I think this was the third night in a row.

Anyhoo... with nobody living there, the water isn't running through the pipes from showers and dishwashing and toilets flushing. I asked Hick why he didn't leave the faucets dripping overnight. He said you'd have to do that with every faucet, not just one. Well. That would only be kitchen sink, bathtub, and bathroom sink. It's not like there are three bathrooms like we have in our mansion. But there IS a laundry room. 

Anyhoo... Hick was surprised. He said he had so much insulation around the pipes that he thought they'd never freeze. He's not too worried, because he used Pex pipe, which is plastic and expands. He thinks the issue might be where the main water line comes into the house. It's copper. Hick had built a box to enclose that pipe where it comes in on the front of the house, and insulated the pipe above the ground. He thought that would work, but he doesn't know how deep that pipe is in the ground. If somebody was living there, using water regularly, it would probably have been fine. Hick and Old Buddy had talked about it on the phone, and Old Buddy said he's ready to work whenever Hick is.

Anyhoo... Bargain House was just fine, no issues. So there's that. Meanwhile, Hick will have to wait for the thaw, which is supposed to happen Wednesday with mid-30s for the high temperature. It might take a couple days, but Hick will get to the bottom of that pipe problem, and fix it.

Here We Go Again, Trapped by Weather

Val is not getting out in teen temperatures with a windchill in single digits. Nope. Not even scratchers are worth that level of discomfort. A younger Val, who walked faster, might layer up and venture out. Not this old Val. I made that decision when I saw the forecast. Saturday was my last outing, and it was 28 degrees with a chilly wind. 

Most of our ice/snow has melted. Most. Not the thick layer on the upper gravel road and the lower gravel road. The hills have been plowed by some kind denizen of our enclave with a tractor. I slid a lot in T-Hoe on the lower road by the creek and Mailbox Row. Not a big deal. No traffic, and trees to stop me if I went off the level road. It's being cold that I am avoiding.

Our porch is clear, mostly, because it's under roof. The steps to the garage are clear, and the concrete sidewalk to it, because Hick sweeps and sprinkles salt. The brick sidewalk that branches off, and goes to the carport where Hick parks SilverRedO, is NOT clear! It's a 4-inch slab of ice!

I worry about Hick walking across it in the morning and evening. I suggested that he go in the garage, get the garage door opener out of A-Cad, and exit and enter through the garage. There's only a small section of solid ice behind where he parks SilverRedO. The A-Cad side of the garage concrete is mostly clear. Hick declined that suggestion. 

When I got home Saturday, I was still worried about Hick. I spied a rake leaning against the wall of the garage in front of T-Hoe. Not a fan-shaped flimsy rake, but the long kind, like people step on and the handle whacks them in the face. I took that rake out the people-door, to see if I could clear away some of that ice slab so Hick didn't have to risk a fall when he got home.

I first tried raking the ice. Nothing. No furrows, no marks. It was quite solid. Then I tried to chop it with the rake. Nothing. Not even any holes to roughen up the surface. I wielded that rake like a hoe. The ice wasn't having it.

Hick made it into the house just fine. I kept cautioning him for the next morning.

"I'm afraid you might fall and crack your head open, and I won't know, and you'll freeze to death lying there all day."

"I'll be fine. I'll walk in the rocks by the house. Or by the garage."

Let the record show that there is just a sliver of the lava rocks that line the brick sidewalk. Hick might get one foot on those rocks, but the other would have to be on the ice. Hick is not a vehicle! It's not like he can have two wheels on the ice, and two wheels with traction, rolling along at the same time. Hick will have to put his weight on an ice foot to move the rock foot forward.

There's no telling Hick anything. I still worry about him. He has strict orders to text me when he gets to town. He does. Sort of. Sunday he left at 6:00, and sent me a text at 9:00 that he was at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5), but had customers and forgot. I'm pretty sure he could have been unconscious on the sidewalk after those three hours. I'm also sure I don't want to walk outside in the wind during the single-digit morning hours to check on him.

Two More Links in The Pony's Chain of Misfortunate Occurrences

I was happy to see a text from The Pony on Friday afternoon, revealing that he had been released a half hour early from work to get his glasses fixed. As you might recall from the earlier picture, those frames were obviously not fixable. But the lenses were okay, and could be put into new frames without needing an appointment for an eye exam to get new glasses. I was driving at the time, and could not devote my attention to a photo of the frames The Pony planned to get.

Oh, and on our morning phone call, I discovered how those glasses broke. The Pony was tired after working late through this ice and snow. He laid the glasses on the back of the couch while relaxing to watch TV. Fell asleep. The glasses slipped off the couch. The Pony found them WITH A FOOT as he was on the way to the bathroom after waking up in the wee morning hours.

Anyhoo... once I was home, I got another text.

 

"Stopped at the buffet. It was awful! Going back to see if my glasses are put together now."

And another:

"Ugh. Different pair I'll end up with. The optometrist had concerns about the bridge distance so suggested a different pair."

Okay. That was disappointing. But still, The Pony now has working glasses with his current lenses. Better than a pair several years older. And he did get to eat at the Chinese buffet. It might not have been delicious but how bad can Chinese food really be? I'd eat bad Chinese buffet food over something out of my FRIG II any day!

It LOOKED good enough to eat! I see crab rangoon, sweet and sour chicken, and peanut butter chicken. Foods I have eaten at that buffet in the past, and enjoyed. I asked The Pony how it was awful.

"First of all, a lot of the containers were empty. The sweet and sour was okay... but the peanut butter chicken was all dried out, like it had been sitting there for a long time. The crab rangoon, too. They just tasted old."

"Well, you were there between times. At 3:50, they wouldn't have put out the food yet for the supper crowd."

In the next picture, I could see what The Pony meant. That peanut butter chicken DOES look all dried out. The Pony THINKS the other food by it was General Tso's chicken. It also looks like it has endured several hours of waiting for The Pony's teeth.

Anyhoo... I'm guessing that The Pony did not enjoy a full feast. Later that night, he ordered Domino's pizza. They're having a half price sale, you know, if you order online by the 19th.

When It Snows, It Drips

Hick stopped by the Double Hovel on Wednesday, just to check on things since the big ice/sleet/snow storm. Or more likely because he need to use the bathroom while out and about. He made an unwelcome discovery. Notified me by text:

"Came by the house and the heat was off and some water on the kitchen floor."

"Dang it! How did the heat go off?"

"I don't know. I'm resetting it now to see if it comes back on. If not I'm calling the heating and cooling guy. Always something, it seems."

"Yes."

Fifteen minutes later:

"Heat is back on."

"What caused the water on the floor?"

"I don't know."

"Maybe somebody showed the house, and they messed with the heat, and tracked in snow?"

"Nah. It looks like maybe it came from the roof. There's not a stain, but it looks like maybe it could have been from a leak. Right in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ice could have got up under there and then melted. We'll have to see if there's a leak after the next rain or snow. Then I'll check on where it came from, and fix it."

"Why would the heat be off?"

"If the electricity went off. It's supposed to reset itself, but if the power flickered, like went off and came right back on, it wouldn't have time to reset."

Hick also checked the Beauty Shop, which has a different kind of heating system. It was on, and no sign of any leaks there.

The Pony Needs a Case of Rabbit Feet

It goes without saying (but of course Val will say it) that The Pony's major jackpot of $16,633.47 at the casino on Christmas Eve would need some evening by Even Steven. Silly Val. She thought The Pony had already endured the negatives, what with those toothsome dogs on his mail route, and an unexplained rash from working in the rain, and braving the icy weather of late. But no.

The Pony fell a couple of times on the ice, and sustained a really bad bruise on his GOOD butt cheek. The one that was not punctured with dog teeth. Here's an extreme close-up picture of the bruising. It covers about 1/4 of the total area of that body part:

"The bruise on my butt is ginormous. One of the other carries went 'How are you even walking!' when she saw it." [I don't know how the other carrier saw The Pony's butt bruise.]

Tuesday, The Pony had a really bad day.

"Today's going about as badly as it can. I don't expect to be off before 7:30 at best. The icing on top of all this is that I've got a flat tire I have to deal with when I'm off to even drive home and get actually fixed tomorrow."

I told Hick, who was in a meeting with his tax man for his business taxes. But he found The Pony on his route to get the car key, and aired up the flat, and drove the car to Casey's to air up ALL the tires. It held. So no repair necessary. Hick reported that he can't believe The Pony had to deliver on that route, as all the streets were covered completely with several inches of solid ice.

On Thursday morning, The Pony reported that he had broken his glasses:

Again, I don't know how. I didn't want to dwell on the misfortune by asking.

Shortly before 8:00 a.m., The Pony discovered that there had been a water main break. On the street beside his house. Again.

"Ah. Water main break. I thought I just had a central pipe freeze. Wooo! Had literally zero water pressure this morning. Manager said Sis-Town has a water main break."

By the time he was off work at 6:00, The Pony said:

"They fixed the main break. Supposedly they were just refilling the towers since it drained two of them but I never got an alert that they had finished that. Just a boil water order now last I heard which honestly I don't care about. Home now. Barely. An old lady almost turned right into me while I was crossing by the Senior Center. And I had to swerve completely into the other lane next to the old florist. She didn't even start moving until I was halfway across the intersection."

"Your Even Stevening from your jackpot should be done by now!"

"You'd think. But this week just keeps getting worse."

Poor Pony. At least it's Thursday... His butt is not punctured. The car tire is okay. He has an old pair of glasses for seeing. No pipes were frozen in his house. There's water for showering. And the old lady missed colliding with his Rogue.

The Disappointment Is Palpable

Prognosis: negative! Variance denied!

Hick called me right after the public hearing with the Planning and Zoning Commission concerning a variance to divide our Double Hovel flip property into two lots.

"Well, that was a waste of time. I think they had their mind made up before the hearing. I was sittin' there waiting for it to start, and overheard two of them talking about it, saying there were more negatives than positives. Nobody showed up to complain. They shuffled through their papers and asked if I had anything else to add. They said something about a letter, but it wasn't my letter. I told them I was told NOT to give them my letter. And they said yes, that unless they asked for it, I shouldn't. I don't think their letter was a complaint from anybody. It looked like it was on paper with a city letterhead. I asked to see it, and they said I couldn't."

"But Denizen saw it! And she's not on the committee, and not the one asking for a variance!"

"I know. I didn't mention that part. Anyway, they basically said that if they granted this variance for me, they'd have to do it for everybody."

"I can understand that. They'd have to re-write their ordinance with a lawyer, to modify the size of the lots to what ours is."

"One lady said, 'I live in a subdivision, and I wouldn't want a lot under 10,000 square feet. I don't want anybody building a house right on top of me!' I told her the houses are ALREADY THERE! That if somebody doesn't want a house close to them, they won't buy it anyway."

"Yeah. That's how I see it. It's not like somebody would buy one of our houses, then wake up to find a house has been built right on top of them."

"The commissioner said he doesn't understand how people can't get a loan on it. Maybe I should have took Realtor with me to explain those loans without a down payment. He asked if anybody had made an offer. I told him 10-12 people had asked Realtor about buying just the little house. He said he could understand that, with a house being cheaper than renting a 1-bedroom apartment there."

"Yes. The issue is a down payment."

"The commissioner said he thinks it will sell. And another guy on the commission said, 'There's a property for you!' Like he had been looking at investment properties. So then the commissioner asked me the price, and I told him. And he said, 'How long before the realtor contract is up?' Like he might want to buy it without paying the commission."

"That's not right. I wouldn't do that to her. It's like cheating."

"A lot of people try to do that. Say they'll give you a certain price to buy it, if you tell the realtor you talked to them before you listed it."

"Well, at least we know now."

Hick sent The Pony a text of the result. The Pony replied, "Ugh." Hick also sent Realtor a text. Her reply was, "Bummer."

Let the record show that we are disappointed, but nobody needs to talk us off the ledge. We knew when we bought the property that the city ordinances decreed that the property could not be divided. We bought it with this knowledge. The city owes us no favors. It's not a case of sour grapes. Just disappointment.

Oh, and The Buddy did not show up at the meeting. Hick thinks maybe he didn't want Hick to know how he was voting. Hick said two of the five members present were discussing it, and another made a motion to deny the variance, and then another seconded the motion. The actual vote was unanimous.

A city's gonna do what a city's gonna do. They got our $125 to hold a hearing to consider the variance proposal. Not sure what the money went to, as I don't think they get paid for holding a meeting. Hick said they would have to pay the two office workers who were recording the proceedings.

Anyhoo... we will think about renting the property if it doesn't sell in a couple months when the market comes out of its winter doldrums. One month's rent will more than pay for the insurance and utility fees we've accrued since listing it in September.

Division Day Looms

The day of the public hearing about dividing our Double Hovel property is Wednesday. That's tomorrow, as I type this. Hick has been fidgety about making sure of the date. Even though the date was on a sticky note that the city secretary gave him, and on the letter that was approved for him to hand out. Somehow he got it in his head that MONDAY was the day. But no. Double- and triple-checking revealed that it was not.

Hick has a buddy on the commission that will make the final decision. The Buddy is not giving any clues, as it should be. He does answer basic questions. Says these hearings usually last about 15 minutes. That Hick needs to be there, in case citizens show up and have questions. Or in case the commission has questions. The fee has been paid that was required to request the variance. Paperwork was turned in. I can't think of anything else that would throw a monkey wrench into the proceedings, short of Hick putting his foot in his mouth. He's pretty good about NOT doing that with city officials.

Anyhoo... Hick was startled on Monday when Denizen, his one-time good friend at the Senior Center, who turned into his enemy for unknown reasons, started talking about this hearing. She has been talking to Hick a little over the past month. He doesn't know why. Thinks maybe she's mad at somebody else. Anyhoo... Denizen told Hick:

"I read your paperwork for your variance. It was FIVE PAGES LONG!"

"I only gave them one letter. It was one page."

"There was a letter in it, too."

Hick didn't pursue the subject. But he was a bit displeased when he got home.

"How did she even know anything about it? She doesn't live around that property. She didn't get a letter handed to her about the hearing. She's not on the commission. So she had NO BUSINESS getting ahold of your papers."

"Yeah. I know. But I didn't say that."

"Well. I'm sure we both know how she got it. She's married to The Buddy! I guess she just read it thinking she was entitled. I can't imagine him discussing it with her, since he's not sharing anything with you about it, and he's always been nice to you."

"Yeah. He's not giving anything away."

"I'm really glad she's been talking to you again. Because if she was still being mean, it wouldn't surprise me if she told somebody to go there and complain, just so you couldn't get your variance!"

"Nothing would surprise me."

"If you get denied, I'd have a fit, and make a complaint that some random citizen read you variance request that should have been just for the city commission."

"I don't see why they have any reason to deny the variance. I guess we'll find out."

"And FIVE PAGES? That's the pages of the code telling you how to go about requesting a variance, I'm pretty sure. That packet that you brought home, that I went through and made sure your letter had answered all the requirements."

"I'm sure that was it, too."

The meeting is late in the afternoon. I'll let you know how it goes.

Who Deserves Credit for THIS?

It's that time of year to send in tax assessment forms. Tucked inside ours was a notice of a new tax credit for senior citizens. It was passed in 2024, to take effect in 2025. Good to know. Or not...

Here's the deal. It sounds good, to help elderlies on fixed incomes so they are not hit with increasing taxes every year. But the way it is set to be implemented is a disgrace. I'm sure some Iron Man Ninja Warrior Olympic Decathlete came up with the plan. 

See what you think. Our two-page insert outlined the following details:

Eligible seniors may apply for real estate tax credits beginning March 3, 2025

Must be 62 or older, own home, have current taxes paid in full

Bring photo ID, proof of residency, documents if home is in a trust or LLC

The homestead must be occupied as the primary residence

No commercial properties are eligible

Well. That all sounds perfectly reasonable. It's the implementation that raises a red flag.

How To Sign Up

Enrollment begins March 3 and ends May 30

You will need to apply IN PERSON at the county collector's office between 9:00-3:00

What Happens During Enrollment

We request that both spouses on the deed apply in-person. NOTE: Enrollment does not require an appointment. There will be crowds. To save time, we suggest you wait until the lines are shorter, after the first week or two of each enrollment month.

When you arrive at the collector's office you will be greeted and given a number along with a short application to complete. When the next enrollment station is ready, you will present your ID (and your trust agreement if property is in a trust) and then sign an affidavit declaring your homestead's address. After your eligibility has been confirmed, you will receive copies of the documents in a folder to keep for your permanent records.

Will I Need To Re-Apply Every Year?

Yes, taxpayers must re-apply for the Senior Citizen Tax Credit every year. The county will send current tax credit recipients a reminder notice each year by mail or by electronic means. You will not need to re-apply in person to renew. However, new applicants for 2025 and in future years mut apply in-person.

Who Do I Contact For More Information?

This is a new program which is subject to change. We may not be able to answer your questions before March 1, 2025, so instead of calling we suggest that you visit your website [redacted] which will be updated with the most recent information. After the ordinance has been adopted and enrollment opens you may contact the county collector at [redacted].

THOSE are the parts that concern me. This is a tax credit for OLD PEOPLE! There will be crowds of old people. I know many are perfectly spry and able to walk a distance from the parking lot to the second floor of the courthouse and stand in line with throngs of other old people, filling out forms while standing in line waiting for county government officials to process their paperwork. 

VAL IS NOT ONE OF THOSE SPRY OLD PEOPLE!

That's our county courthouse. Sorry for the words showing through from the back side of our notice. Around on the back corner of the courthouse is a long ramp that goes from the corner of the building to the doors. There is an elevator (if it's working now) to the second floor. Parking is on the street, with perhaps two or three handicaps spaces, OR in a parking lot at the annex across the street.

Can you imagine all the elderlies hobbling along, trying to make it through the crosswalks without being mowed down by today's distracted drivers? Then standing inside for what might be hours, waiting to fill out forms for a tax credit? I'm sure it would be worthwhile if one is physically able to do so. Our property taxes just for our hillbilly mansion are over $1000 per year. I don't know how much credit would be given, if it's a percent, or based on income as well.

Just saying. This process was not thoroughly thought through! At least in my opinion.

Three Cookies Forward and Four Marshmallows Back

In my attempts to tame the wild Hick, to bend and mold him into what I WISH he would be... I've discovered that even success is a matter of one step forward and two steps back. I may eventually get my desired result, but not without consequences.

Last year for Christmas, Genius brought us a tin of cookies. Snickerdoodles. I tried one and loved it. But then I got a cold. I wasn't going to waste those cookies by eating them when I was without my sense of taste. There they sat, in their tin, on the table between Hick's recliner and the short couch. Once my minor sickness had progressed to where I had taste again, I picked up that container to enjoy a cookie.

EMPTY! 

Let the record show that I had mentioned to Hick several times that I couldn't wait until my cold was over so I could eat a cookie. Also, we had a multitude of other Christmas desserts, including Oreo Cake, Oreos, blueberry pie, Rice Krispy Treats, homemade chocolate-covered cherries, and candies sent by my sister the ex-mayor's wife from her shindig on Christmas Eve, like the ones shown on this plate from that night:

So you would think a diabetic such as Hick could have eaten his fill of sugary treats from a variety of sources, without taking every last one of those Snickerdoodles that I was saving.

This year, Genius had Snickerdoodles and some other cookie with a chocolate center. Also in the container were four marshmallows. "These marshmallows aren't for eating. They are in the tin to keep the cookies fresh. So don't think I'm giving you marshmallows as a dessert."

Since I have been cutting back, I only allow myself ONE item as a dessert after supper. The first items to be used up by me were the slices of banana nut and blueberry cake that I had bought for after Christmas Dinner. Then some of Sis's candies. She had buckeyes this year. And the turtle is always a favorite. But the very best was the peanut cluster thingies, my new favorite.

Hick minded his manners, and left the peanut clusters for me. Also one turtle, and two buckeyes, which I had specifically called for, in those numbers. Hick had the rest of the Oreo Cake again, some of the banana nut and blueberry cake slices, and the tin of cookies that Friend brought, which were Christmas shapes with icing decoration. I also told Hick that I wanted some Snickerdoodles left!

The tin containing Genius cookies was left on the kitchen counter this year, along with all other desserts. Hick even told me a couple times, "I'm leaving your Snookerdoodles that you like so much."

A few days ago, I opened the tin to get one of the Snickerdoodles, long after Hick had gone to bed. Oh, there were Snickerdoodles left for me:

Also one of the other cookies remained. Do you see what's missing? THE MARSHMALLOWS! I don't know how long ago they disappeared. I DO know that my Snickerdoodle was not as fresh as I might have liked, though to be fair, it HAS been almost three weeks from when Genius made them. Even though I was pretty sure what happened to the marshmallows, I had to ask Hick at 5:45 a.m. the next morning.

"Where did those marshmallows go that were in Genius's cookies?"

"I ate 'em."

"Did you not hear him say they were only in the tin to keep the cookies fresh?"

"Yeah. I heard that. But I wanted marshmallows."

Oh, well. A stale Snickerdoodle is better than NO Snickerdoodle. Baby steps for the taming of Hick. Some forward, some back.

The Delivery of Thousands of Pieces of Mail Starts With a Carrier in the Dark

The timing of our recent sleet/snow storms was advantageous for The Pony. On the days he was scheduled to work, the mail trucks had not been able to deliver. Then there was his regular day off, the National Day of Mourning, and a day he had scheduled for leave before knowing such a storm was brewing.

Saturday, The Pony had to return to work. He found out Friday that the person covering his route that day had not been able to make it in. So all that mail would be there waiting. And while getting ready Saturday, The Pony received a text from work.

At least The Pony had Hick swinging by to drive him to work, so no need to scrape off the new snow from his Rogue. And with temps supposed to hit the mid-30s, some melting would start. The deep snow meant that The Pony would have to wear boots, which get pretty heavy and uncomfortable by the end of the 11-mile route. He was taking his regular shoes, in case the boots became unbearable. 

As I sit here typing at 1:25, I've had no updates from The Pony. Hick must not have much business at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5), because he sent a text saying that he might go by to give The Pony a ride home when he gets off work. It's the little things.

You probably never consider how many events must synchronize to enable you to pick up that junk mail out of your mailbox.

Just What We Needed

Guess who won't be driving to town for a few more days! That's right, your homebound gal Val. Our 2-4 inches of predicted snowfall overnight turned out to be about 6 inches.

That's the view out the laundry room door around 9:45. Don't worry about the dry dog water bowl. It's the OLD bowl that doesn't work. Hasn't for many years. But of course the place for it is not in the trash, but right there next to the working water bowl that you can't see, plugged into the outlet so the water won't freeze.

By noon, there was a bit more accumulation. There's Scarlett, wolfing down a treat of whole-wheat bread, and the top of Jack's head as he thinks better of trying to take it. Those dang dogs are not satisfied hanging out on the porch in the three houses and dry boards. Nope. They have to get out and roam. On my trip to town Thursday, I caught them coming up Hick and Buddy's Badly Blacktopped ice-coated Hill. Scarlett took it upon herself to follow me for a bit. She needs a job, but we're not buying any cattle or sheep!

Looks like we won't be seeing the gentle glow from the solar lights for a while.

Poor Pony! Even though he was off work Thursday for the National Day of Mourning for Jimmy Carter, he had an appointment. While trying to clean off his Rogue, he broke the scraper!

The Pony said he had to pour water on the windshield to get it cleared off. I imagine that was a tedious chore. He didn't send me the picture or tell me about it until Friday, because he didn't want me to worry. Lucky The Pony had asked for Friday off, so wasn't out in the latest blizzard. Hick will swing by and drive The Pony to work on Saturday morning, though who knows if the mail trucks made it in, and how much work there will be. Maybe just a backlog of anything that got through Tuesday and Wednesday.

Meanwhile, I'm back to sitting around, using my internet while the using's good.

Val Makes Her Escape

Val took advantage of her narrow window of opportunity on Thursday, to escape the confines of her hillbilly mansion and venture to civilization. In retrospect, it was a folly fraught with possible catastrophes.

Hick had been telling me since Sunday that I should stay home, that the parking lots were treacherous. He also said that the roads weren't too bad. With a new storm bearing a possible 3-5 inches of snow rolling in on Thursday night, I flew the coop.

Hick had mentioned that our road was the worst part. He was not a-woofin'! Here are some pictures from my drive home.

The county blacktop road wasn't too bad. Mostly clear. Just not clear enough for two vehicles to pass. Each had to get two tires off the pavement and onto the icy part. No indication of where the drop-off was from the road edge. No shoulders in Backroads. Just a ditch. At least I only met ONE truck during my time on this road.

Our gravel road was indeed the worst part. You wouldn't even know there was gravel.

That's down by the creek and Mailbox Row. Doesn't it look peaceful and serene? 

It's NOT! That road is a mile of packed ice from the county blacktop road to our house!

I would not have gone if I knew our gravel road was this bad. In town, the parking lot of the Gas Station Chicken Store was similar. I didn't park in my rightful handicap space, but instead pulled under the roof, thinking my footing would be more stable. WRONG! As I walked behind T-Hoe, hand on his hatch to steady myself, I had to trudge through slippery slush that had frozen. I suppose it fell off of cars parked at the gas pumps. AND my hand slipped in the dirty spray that had coated T-Hoe's rear. I hate to block the gas pumps for my brief trip inside for scratchers, but it was the safest option.

At 10Box, all five handicap spaces were taken. Three of them by cars with handicap plates or placards. The other two by ne'er-do-wells who felt entitled. I had to park across the drive, in a regular space. At least the lot was cleared, and a couple had come out and left their cart in front of the store for me to latch onto once I got that far.

After picking up a few foodstuffs to tide us over during the next storm, I headed over to Sis-Town to mail Genius's letter. The roads to there were pretty clear. But I got behind somebody overly-cautious who drove 20 mph in a 45 mph zone. 

I'm definitely not getting out on Friday. At least the snow will cover our ice, and give some traction on the gravel road. I think I can make it trapped at home another two or three days, to see how much clearing and melting occur. 

Be careful what you wish for. A trip to town is not always the escape you imagine.