Three Heads Are Better Than None

Hick is a man outstanding in his field. More accurately, Hick was, last week, a man out standing in his field. Literally. I'm not sure what he was doing. Maybe putting junk on his burn pile. In any case, our next-field neighbor saw Hick, and stopped. By "stopped," I mean he drove through the ditch and down into the BARn field to talk to Hick.

"Neighbor asked if I wanted three deer heads. He's had them hanging on his living room wall, and his wife said she's ready to get rid of them. He doesn't know of anyone who might use them, so he offered them to me. I told him sure I'll take 'em!"

"For nothing? He just GAVE them to you?"

"He don't need 'em. He asked for $100 for them. I said okay. I'll put one in my shop, and hang the other two in my other shop. Somebody'll want 'em. I can get $100 apiece for them. Maybe more. Depends on who wants them."

"Well, that's good for you. At least somebody will have a use for them. A head is a terrible thing to waste."

Hick has long had a love of deer heads. When the kids were young, that's what The Pony wanted to give Hick for Christmas one year. It didn't hurt that Hick had said he wanted this particular deer head, which was at an indoor flea market/thrift store he frequented. A guy working there had to carry it out for us. Then Genius helped hide it in the BARn until Christmas. I think Hick put that one down in his creekside cabin. And was disappointed a couple years later to see that mice had eaten the skin off of it!

Anyhoo... I'm sure Neighbor's deer heads were ones that he himself had harvested. He's a big hunter, with regular guns, black powder rifles, and bows. I imagine they came right here off his land or ours. He has a standing invitation to hunt on our property.

Yesterday evening, on my way home from town, I slowed down to watch four deer on another neighbor's property. Imagine my surprise when I looked up and saw three more crossing the gravel road and walking into our own woods. Seven at a time is the most I've seen. They were all does, not a buck among them. Several of them hang out in our front yard, and drive my little dog Jack crazy. They will not heed his bark.

Hick had also allowed one of his buddies to come out here to hunt this year. He said he saw four, but he could not entice them off the neighbor's field and into ours. Somebody must have gotten one recently, because Hick caught Jack with a rib cage on the front porch. Right now it's black powder season, and also bow season. Somebody needs to thin the herd, so they won't slowly starve through the winter.

Hick is not a hunter, but he won't turn down a deer head.

The Christmas Feast Photos

Nothing fancy about Thevictorian Family Christmas. Just the foods everybody likes, and a rudimentary place setting. It looks like this year, we were lucky to get a select-a-size paper towel, and ONE utensil, heh, heh. I think The Pony was the table-setter, with Friend as a partner in crimes against etiquette. Everybody had mostly the same foods on their plate.

We'll start with The Pony, who was also the photographer, and showed TWO views.

Looks like a ham and swiss and pepperjack on brioche with mayo and whole grain mustard, and hash brown potatoes, roasted veggies, stuffing, and potato salad. I do NOT see deviled eggs! A favorite of The Pony. Then again, The Pony's palate prefers them room temp. So maybe some were waiting elsewhere.

That's a custom-made salad from The Pony's own hands. A bagged crunchy Italian mix, with shredded mozzarella, boiled egg, Caesar dressing, and fried onion crispy thingies. I see The Pony was also blessed with a butter knife, and not just a fork. That's rum and Coke for the beverage.

Next we have the plate of Friend, who seems to like the basics.

That's a good-looking sandwich, unlike The Pony's, which barely had any ham. Also hash brown potatoes, roasted veggies, stuffing, and Sister Schubert's Rolls. On the plate, no less, unlike The Pony, who eats them right out of the pan, having a separate pan designated as such. There's some of the 7-layer salad.

Genius made good use of his plate:

The sandwich on brioche seems to be a secret, though I might detect some bacon sticking out. Two deviled eggs, a couple of baby carrots, potato salad, hash browns, roasted veggies, and stuffing. Genius's salad is a 6-layer version! I made it alongside the 7-layer, leaving out peas. Rather than the mayo on top of a 7-layer, Genius prefers to add Caesar dressing. Just ice water to drink.

Hick had the messiest plate. Are you surprised?

Hick took his ham straight, not diluted by a sandwich. Hash browns, stuffing, veggies, potato salad, deviled eggs. I hope he spun that plate around for eating, since the right side looks like a trap waiting to get all over Hick's hand when cutting the ham.

I got a full plate's worth this year.

I went for a half-sandwich on Nutty Oat bread. Hash browns, veggies. a deviled egg, a slice of summer sausage and one of Oberle cheese that were left from snacking during our preparation time making the 7-layer salad. Some cauliflower and broccoli with dip. Potato salad. And my favorite, the 7-layer salad.

Again, dessert pictures were forgotten. It was Oreo Cake, but you're seen a picture of that before. Everybody had a good feed. Hick and I are still on the leftovers. The ham will go a few more days, but I've frozen a bunch of the rest. Hick is having the last two deviled eggs tonight. The Pony took home a bunch of leftovers. Genius and Friend took some cake.

Part of the larger dishes remain in FRIG II. Once we finish with the salad and veggies and hash browns tonight, I'll be getting them washed up as well. Then I have a breather until Super Bowl Sunday.

You Think You Know a Guy

Actually, I DO know a guy. The specific guy being Hick. So his latest shenanigan should not surprise me at all. I should have known this would happen. Perhaps my title should be, 

"You Think a Guy Knows You."

Hick went to the license office on the day after he got his new used trailer. He wanted to get the license and title squared away. He put the title in both our names. That's a common practice for married people, you know. The title came in the mail on Saturday. I was shocked to see that my name was not spelled correctly.

You'd think that a guy would know his wife's name after 36 years of marriage. But if that guy was Hick, and his wife was Val, you'd be wrong!

It's not like we were just introduced. My name is on the mail that Hick picks up every day. It's on the papers numerous times when we have a closing for buying and selling properties. Right there under Hick's name, on page after page. How can I be so insignificant that Hick doesn't know my name???

"Uh. This title isn't legal. My name is spelled wrong. That's not my legal name. If something happens to you, I don't have ID to show that I am the person who owns this trailer."

"What? That's not your name?"

"No. It's spelled wrong."

"Well, the girl put it on there. I just told her your name."

"Are you not capable of filling out paperwork to get a title? And if she was typing it on a computer for you, didn't she ask you how to spell it? Office people always ask me over the phone, or when I go there. Because my name is spelled a lot of ways."

"No. She just put it on there."

My real name has a variety of spellings. A dozen or more are common. Hick's real name has even more variations. Yet I always manage to spell his correctly. It's not like I'm some superhuman braniac (well, except for being a VALedictorian, of course). Is it really that hard to learn your spouse's name? Hick has had plenty of time!

I guess Hick will just have to take time out of his busy schedule, and go apply for a new title. Which I think he should pay for out of HIS money, heh, heh! Since it was his mistake. No matter how much he wants to blame a minimum wage worker.

To be safe, I should probably print it on an index card, and pin it to Hick's shirt...

Two Thevictorians Lose Their Shirts

Do you hear what I hear? It's the sound of Even Steven ignoring Thevictorians in their quest for holiday riches. First there was the debacle of the scratchers. For the number and amount purchased, we expected more winnings. Ever the sunny optimists, we consoled ourselves with the anticipation of big wins at the casino the next day. After all, The Pony won $16,000 there last Christmas!

Not this time. The Pony and Val both lost their shirts. Well. Not their complete shirts. They're not strippers! More like walking in with a comfortable shirttail, and leaving with a half-shirt exposing bare midriff. Hick managed to stay fully clothed. He was up about $20. Until, on the way out, he met Val and The Pony, and Val commanded him to put in a twenty, because she was sure her slot was going to pay as soon as she left. It did not...

We didn't leave empty-handed. The Pony had about half a casino bankroll left, and Val still had 2/3 of hers. So there's that. Only one picture to show, and it was not even a great win.

It's a game I hadn't played before. The kind that has four games at once. Each one had a 60 cent bet. So each spin cost me $2.40. I can't play them for long, heh, heh!

Here's the screen that won. 

It's a game called Pompeii. I had five of those helmet thingies, all the way across, and the volacano is a multiplier. I won $80 on that screen. Of course, we were there for almost six hours, so I had some more playing to do. Sadly, nothing else wanted to give me reasonable bonuses! I guess that's why they call it "gambling," not "winning."

Anyhoo... Genius saved the day with our gifts. Which were scratchers from Pennsylvania.

Each of us had the same selection. They had been forgotten at the hotel on Christmas day, so Genius handed them to us when we met at the casino. The Pony scratched on the way home. The sets of tickets were in three envelopes (provided by Val as Genius left on Christmas evening). 

"Here are your tickets. I didn't put specific names on them. You can sort them out. Each envelope has the same tickets."

As Hick was sweaving along through construction on I-55 coming home, I distracted myself by offering The Pony the lottery tickets. 

"Here are the envelopes. I shuffled them. You can shuffle them some more, and then pick which one you want."

The Pony spent a minute, making sure to pick the very best one.

"I'll take this one. It feels lucky."

"Okay. And I'm taking this one, because the envelope isn't bent. Dad can have that one."

The Pony scratched from the back seat. "Winner! Huh. Another winner!" And so it went. The Pony had five winners out of nine tickets. $10, $10, $10, $20, $30. For a total of $80.

"I guess you DID pick the best envelope! I can't imagine ours winning now. Especially if Genius bought them all the same day. You got all the winners!"

Once home, I commenced to scratching. I had ONE winner. For $10. Hick didn't want to scratch. He doesn't have the patience. He wanted me to scratch his tickets, as long as I made sure he would get the winnings. Fine with me. I love scratching!

Well. The Pony did NOT pick the very best one. Hick with the leftover envelope was the big winner. He had three winning tickets. For $20, $30, and $100. For $150! Good thing Val is honest, and did not try any shenanigans!

That's Hick's big winner. It was the last symbol. I was shocked when I uncovered the prize.

I suppose the sun even shines on a dog's rumpus some days! Which is tantamount to calling Hick a dog's rumpus. Which kind of gives me the giggles. Congrats to Hick, the big Christmas winner.

Dang the Platter Plates!

What's the deal with these holiday platter plates??? Val does not need to overdo the feasting during the holiday season. It's hard enough with a regular size plate. But these PLATTER size paper plates will be her downfall.

At the Christmas Eve festivities at the home of my sister the ex-mayor's wife, I was subjected to the dreaded PLATTER PLATE! I'm not saying I wished for a small "dessert" type plate. Just a plate of normal size. But who am I to NOT completely fill a platter plate? It would be rude, don't you think, to only put a couple baby tomatoes or a single piglet in a blanket on one of those platters! So Val made sure to use all the space available. It was the polite thing to do!

Far be it from Val to be impolite! Let's start at the upper left, the 10:00 o'clock position. I have two pizza snacks. They are made on mini rye bread. A combination of sausage, cheese, and Worcestershire Sauce. I don't know the recipe. It's something Sis learned in middle school Home Ec (before they started calling it FACS-Family And Consumer Sciences). They are delicious! She gave me some to bring home. They are chilling in FRIG II's freezer.

Next we have some broccoli florets, and cauliflower, to go with the Hidden Valley Ranch dip. Then a meatball. Hand-formed by Sis, and flavored with something I suppose is teriyaki sauce. Delicious. Then a baby tomato for the dip. And something I no longer recognize, though I think maybe it was a cheesy potato. After that are two wontons filled with a sausage/cheese mixture. Sis also had a taco version, which I resisted. In the middle is a piglet in a blanket. And a couple mini sausages and cheese cubes.

We all had a good time at this yearly soiree. I did not win any games. No prizes. I'm just thankful I could make it from the car, across the yard, and up the steps into the house. 

I gotta say, I don't regret my full platter plate.

The Universe Has Smitten Thevictorian Family Christmas

I should be grateful. Everybody is healthy. Enough! I can still hobble. Still prepare (with The Pony's help) our Christmas feast. I was able to access the home of my sister the ex-mayor's wife for her Christmas Eve party. However... I did not win a single game!

The Universe decreed that Genius could spend more than 4 hours with us on Christmas day, because Friend's family was sick. That's terrible for Friend's family, with whom they usually spend Christmas afternoon and evening. However...

We could hardly wait until everybody was done eating our Christmas Dinner so we could partake of our annual Christmas scratching. I always buy lottery tickets as our gifts. Dang it! I might as well have doled out the cash this year. Because we had very few winners. Not even my usual 40% back.

Hopefully, our casino trip on the day after Christmas will set things right. Hear me, 

Even Steven???

Here's Some Non-VAL Food to Look At

While Val and assorted Thevictorians are strapping on the ol' feedbag for Christmas dinner, here are pictures of non-Val food you might enjoy. Enjoy looking at, anyway. Perhaps you're not a fan of such fare.

The Pony recently drove to a nearby city to cash in some silver that was bought as an investment. Silver prices have been really good lately. That investment paid off!  A friend was invited to ride along. They had supper at Texas Roadhouse. 

They started with a Bloomin' Onion. Only The Pony says their version is called a Cactus Blossom. Oh my gosh! I just looked up the name for sure, and found this site which I swear must be AI or written by someone whose mastery of English is not quite what I expected! Here's an example after I scrolled way down to the FAQ. In answer to "What is a Texas Roadhouse Cactus Blossom," this answer had me rolling! Then again, I am easily amused...

"A: Kazun was served with a horseshoe-shaped needle sauce, similar to a large, deep, outdated onion, a crust (similar to a bloom).

That doesn't sound very enticing to me!!! Anyhoo... The Pony said it was okay, but didn't like the dipping sauce. Which was compared to a remoulade. 

The Pony had a sirloin, medium rare, and a baked potato.

The steak was reportedly delicious. Oh, and for the second side dish, The Pony chose THIS:

It's MASHED POTATOES! With the dipping sauce not-liked from the Cactus Blossom Bloomin' Onion. I'm shocked The Pony didn't also request another side of fries, heh, heh!

The Pony's friend had shrimp skewers, shown here perched atop bread that came with them:

The green beans were not liked, because they were "the fake kind." Which The Pony is not sure of that meaning, thinking perhaps it was a reference to right out of a can. Anyhoo... There was plenty left for the friend to take home, since she gave her bread to The Pony (in case he was carb-deficient, you know) and still took home two containers full of the rest (excluding the green beans). According to The Pony the next day, "I figured since it was her birthday, she should get the leftovers."

Funny how during the meal, The Pony sent me a text:

"My friend is going to kill me. I let the server here at Texas Roadhouse know it was her birthday so she got the special treatment. XD"

I replied: "Well, not a big deal if it was her actual birthday! I submit this virtual cake." And sent a picture of the Oreo Cake that I had just completed.

The Pony will be getting payback in a couple months, I think. When a birthday rolls around.

The Ceiling's the Limit

Hick sent a picture from Bargain House on Tuesday morning. In typical Hick fashion, he declared a project DONE. But I don't think so...

"Ceiling finished in kitchen."

I beg to differ. Oh, who are we fooling? I'm not begging at all. I'm DIFFERING! This is not a finished ceiling! So I replied...

"Except for paint and lights."

An hour later, Hick responded: "Now I can paint and put the lights back in there hole i have to get a new ceiling light for the center." I'm pretty sure he sent that text from his lunch table at the Senior Center, having Chicken Pot Pie.

Anyhoo... the Swirly Man did a pretty good job on that kitchen ceiling patch. Once it's all the same color, I think it will be fine. Besides, who wants to look at the ceiling when they have that shiny, shiny backsplash to draw their attention!

The progress-after-wrecking ball is rolling once again. After painting, the floor can go down, and stove and refrigerator will be put in place.

Val Gets Battered

Hey! Christmas is comin'! That means Val must get off her rumpus and start making preparations for the season's eatings. I have three Oreo Cakes to bake, plus something to take to Christmas Eve festivities at the home of my sister the ex-mayor's wife, and then our regular dinner for Christmas Day at 11:30 due to Genius's tight schedule. A meal that takes days of preparation, and is done in 15 minutes. But that's what moms are for, right? That, and the dishwashing (by hand, have I mentioned?) that will take longer than the feast.

Anyhoo... one cake is already done, and given to The Veteran. Today's cake is earmarked for HOS, Hick's Oldest Son. It starts with cutting a family size bag of Oreos in half. The cookies, not the package. How easy THAT would be! The halves are arranged around the edge of a paper plate, a two-tiered stack, with five perfect ones set aside in the center for the top of the cake. These halves will ring the base of the cake. The others are broken and tossed into a bowl to go into the batter.

Then I mix the batter (from a box, what do you think I am, a chef?). Betty Crocker Triple Chocolate is preferred, but if it's not available, I have also used Devil's Food or Chocolate Fudge versions. I use a hand mixer (easier than the days when it was broken, and I developed a Popeye arm) and then fold in the Oreos, which have been stabbed a bit to reduce their chunks. I am careful not to dump in the whole bowl (like I mistakenly did one year) because the very tiny crumbs are needed to garnish the top of the finished cake. After pouring (heh, heh, Freudian slip, I typed 'pouting' at first) into two round PAM-ed foil pans (shh... I used recycled pans from Sister Schubert's Rolls), I bake them at 350 for 30 minutes. Then set on a rack to cool for at least 30 minutes, then turn them out and let them cool completely.

What does Val do while the cake is cooling? She gets BATTERED! That bowl and beaters aren't going to lick themselves! Somebody's gotta do it! Val is a VALunteer.

Yes, the bowl has already been scraped with a spatula by Val. If I had an anteater tongue, it would be so much easier. The beaters await. The Oreo crumbs are safe. My palate does not yearn for them.

Storebought icing for Val. I prefer Pillsbury Creamy Supreme Vanilla, because it's thick enough not to slide off the cake, and you can't see the dark cake through it. After slathering that two-layer cake with icing, I arrange the set-aside halves around the base. Then put five in a star pattern on top. And sprinkle with the crumbly crumbs left from the chopped Oreos. 

VOILA!

The shadow makes the side look orange, but it's the same as the top. Served up on a pizza pan, because after the first few years I caught on that I was never getting my cake carriers back. It's a pretty cake, if I do say so myself.

Some people love this cake, and crave it through the year. I prefer the batter.

The Ol' Switcheroo

Hick has now swapped out his 16-foot double-axle dovetail trailer for a new model. It wasn't a switch of convenience, but rather a switch of necessity. You may recall that easygoing Hick had loaned his old trailer to The Buddy, whose relative wrecked it during inclement weather. Lest you feel uncertain about the term "wrecked," allow me to provide this visual:

There it is, sitting at the top of the BARn field, with our front yard/field visible through the little forest. This is where the towing company left it. 

Obviously, that trailer can't be fixed. And the tires are not salvageable.

Here's the new (used) trailer that Hick found for $1,900:

It's parked down in front of the BARn, with much of Hick's glorious junk on display. Like his two tractors, one of which I'm pretty sure is working. Once again, Hick has taken a panoramic photo that does not show off the subject to its full advantage.

There. Fixed that for you. It doesn't look as long as the old trailer, but I guess Hick knows more about it than my non-mechanical eyes.

As I type this, it is Sunday afternoon. Hick says The Buddy is coming to his shop today to make a payment on an item he had previously purchased. At that time, Hick will discuss the pay-back plan for this trailer. Hopefully, both parties will be satisfied with the proposal.

Hick Finally Scrubs the Flipping House

Technically, Old Buddy scrubbed the flipping house, under the direction of Hick. We had a couple days of warmer weather, so on Tuesday, Hick loaded up his power washer and got the job done.

The north side of Bargain House looked like this:

Such a nice bright day for washing a house. But the sky soon clouded up.

There's Old Buddy, earning his cash. He's the muscle to Hick's brains.

Looks like a NEW (used) HOUSE! I imagine on a sunny day, it will look even better.

Still waiting on the kitchen ceiling guy to finish the swirls, then painting. After that, Hick will put down the flooring, and move the stove and refrigerator in. He says there are a couple things that need to be done in the basement. And he wants to trim the bushes around the front porch, and do some structural work on it. The shower door for the small bathroom is on. Hick had to take up the shower base to attach it right, so he lost a half-day of work on that task.

Hick thinks Bargain House should be ready to list sometime in January. We'll see...

Who Ya Gonna Call? Hick Thevictorian!

Hick was working at Bargain House on Tuesday afternoon when he got a phone call from one of his elderlies at the senior apartments. She was quite frantic, telling him the building was on fire! Hick told her to hang up and CALL THE FIRE DEPARTMENT! He dropped everything, and headed to the apartments. It's only about two miles from Bargain House.

Hick had calls from three other elderlies, also telling him he needed to get over there, because the building was on fire. His friend who runs the meal part of the operation was also trying to call him. He answered, but told her he was on the way, and couldn't talk. He felt bad for brushing her off, and later called to apologize for being so abrupt.

What Hick discovered when the whole debacle was over did not please him.

"I could tell right when I walked in that it was cigarette smoke. The building was never on fire, it just filled with smoke that went up the stairwell. They had fire departments from 30 miles away there helping them. The fire chief made me so mad I was about to poke him in the nose! He started in on me, saying there should be no smoking in the building. There's not! That's a rule. And nobody was smoking in the building. There's this one gal who takes a 3-pound coffee can out with her to put her cigarette butts in, so she don't throw 'em on the ground. [Yes, she has called a couple times from locking herself out!] She swore her cigarette was out, but I think it wasn't, and set all them other butts on fire. The can had been about half full. She sets it inside the door when she comes in, and takes it out with her the next time she goes out to smoke. Anyway, that can was empty, because all the butts burnt up.

The apartment people was standin' out front, on the sidewalk. I tell them that's what to do. The people who live in the front of the building should go down the front stairs and wait outside for the fire department. The people who live in the back should go down the back stairs, and wait in the back parking lot. Since there was smoke in the back stairwell, they went out the front. That's what you would expect them to do. The county ambulance people took 'em to the library so they wasn't out in the cold. They got everybody out except one gal who was in the shower! 

The firemen were going door to door. There was no fire, but they needed to search every room for people or where the fire might have been. They couldn't get in her door. I unlocked it, but she had the chain on, so I knocked it off. But I wouldn't go in. I told the lady paramedic, 'You can go get her. I ain't goin' in while she's in the shower!'

This is what burns me up! [Unfortunate choice of words, Hick!] Those firemen didn't have no plan at all. They kept goin' in the same apartments. When something happens like that, like a disaster, you put a mark on the door to show that you've searched that one. Another problem is, the alarm only sounds IN THE BUILDING, and doesn't notify the fire department! Like at a school, if the fire alarm goes off, it automatically notifies the fire department. The chief started on me about that, and I said, 'You've been in charge of the safety of this building for YEARS! Shouldn't you have had some drills, and known about that and got it fixed?' It's a problem I inherited from the last guy, along with all different locks on the closets and other rooms. I'll take the hit for the locks. I've been meaning to get them all changed, so a master key unlocks them all. 

Also, all the fire trucks were parked out front on the street. Not a one in the back. The majority of the apartments are in the back. How would they fight a REAL fire with all their trucks in the front? There's no way to run a hose around the building.

Then the chief said 'You can't keep trash in the building.' We don't keep trash. I explained that's the trash room. The trash chute leads to there! And it gets taken out every other day. AND none of them could get into the lock box for the key! After the mayor assured me at that meeting when I first put it in. She said she'd let the fire chief know. I'm gonna have my boss get us a meeting with the fire chief. So we're both there, and maybe he can get this stuff sorted out. The fire chief don't wanna listen to me. Me and Old Buddy found the can of the burned cigarette butts. The fire chief didn't want to believe that was it, but then he did an interview with the paper, and said he found the can for cigarette butts, which caused all the smoke. He didn't find nothin'!"

So... there was a "fire" at the senior center. Everybody is fine. There are communication problems with the fire department. Hick is doing his best to keep the elderlies safe, and feels like he's not being heard by the fire chief.

At least the evacuation was a success. It was the best case scenario for what could have been a tragedy.

__________________________________________________________________

Let the record show that Hick is not just talking out his rumpus about fire department procedures. He used to be on the volunteer fire department, went to training, and fought many a fire. He's not wanting to tell the fire chief how to do his job. Only to see that normal policies are followed when it concerns the elderlies' apartment building. I imagine the fire chief is looking for a way to keep this (or worse) from happening, and pointing out obvious ways to prevent a possible fire. Everybody is on edge in an emergency. It's not the time for diplomacy.

__________________________________________________________________

A Brief Update on Bargain House

Very brief! Just a picture of the handles Hick put on the upper cabinets.

I like the black handles, and the shape. It might look nicer without the tools on the counter, heh, heh! Also, Hick has the window completely trimmed and painted. The blue above the cabinets will also be painted with the ceiling. It's just the drywall right now.

I'm pretty sure Hick will be putting handles on the lower cabinets as well. But there was a bit of an emergency during this work session...

I Dare You to BAH HUMBUG This

Hick played Santa again on Tuesday. This time it was for 6-9 year old special needs kids from a school two districts over. The venue was over in Bill-Paying Town, not at a school Hick usually visits.

"I'm a little nervous about going to a place I haven't been. I don't know what kind of room they'll have for me to change. And I'm not driving over there wearing my suit."

"I guess at least there will be a bathroom."

"Yeah, but I don't want to put on my suit in a bathroom! You don't what it'll be like."

I never heard about the changing room, but Hick had a good time.

They really had a nice set-up for Hick. He might look like a fake figure here, but I guarantee you it's Hick. Let's zoom in...

That's our guy! Hick cleans up pretty well. He said there were 70-something kids.

"They lost one little boy! Looked all over for him, and found him sitting in a corner. I guess he didn't like all the activity. He come in wearing headphones. They all came up to talk to me and get a present. But I run out! Only on the last three. I still had a couple of things in my bag. But the last little girl didn't want it. She took the rest of my candy canes, and was happy with 'em.

After it was over, I was walking out, wheeling my suitcase with my suit in it. A little girl come up and said, 'Hi. What's in your suitcase?' I told her I was going on a trip. She said, 'Santa was here!' And I said, 'REALLY? I wonder where he is,' and I looked around. She didn't have no idea it was me."

Santa was rewarded with a gift card for our local catfish restaurant, where the teacher who arranged this used to work as a waitress while going to school for a teaching degree. No cookies and milk for OUR Santa! He loves catfish.

Savory Smells, Savory Smells, It's Chex Mix Time, in the Country

Time is running tight! I must get the annual Christmas Chex Mix ready for gifting! It's a big production. One batch takes 2.5 hours to complete. I need FOUR batches! I have 24 containers to fill.

The Pony agreed to be my hands and knees, to help with the Chex Mix this year. Last year we did a batch together. Somewhat of an apprentice situation. It's not a complicated process, once you grasp the layering and amounts of the ingredients. It's a tedious process. Chex Mix must be stirred every 15 minutes, for two hours. My knees do not like that part. With The Pony to trot to the stove, and pull out and return the three pans, I have it easy.

This might be the first stirring. I can tell that the Worcestershire Sauce has already been added, and some Corn Chex and pecans have worked their way to the top. If I had just combined the mixture, the top would be a layer of Rice Chex.

There's the first container. Pay no mind to the Pony toes. Mmm. I can practially smell it! The Chex Mix, not the toes!

This is the end of the second batch. I can tell by the color of the container. Notice my dipping tool? It's a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle bowl. I'm not sure where we got it. That was back when HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) and The (little future) Veteran were kids. I don't think the bowls came in a cereal box. They're pretty sturdy. Of course they were used to eat cereal. We only have two. The purple mask (my favorite) and the orange mask. I used to know their names. Anyhoo... this is my traditional Chex Mix dipper. The Pony even asked where it was, while gathering my materials.

We had a good day. Got started about 12:30, and were done by 6:00. Of course, there was a delay midway, because I had to wash and dry my three pans before building the second batch. The Pony was given two (smaller) containers to take home. We all had a tiny sample. Even Hick!

Chex Mix really makes our hillbilly mansion smell like Christmas.

It's a Before-Christmas Miracle!

What in the Not-Heaven??? I was shocked on Sunday night to hear Hick say that he was NOT going to look at the trailer on Monday. You know what THAT meant! REUBEN, baby! Val was getting a Reuben Sandwich on Monday!

Oh, don't go thinking that Hick did this out of his undying love for Val. That would be a bit of a stretch, and a considerable sacrifice. Nope. Hick was doing it because he wanted time to pick up his FREE chairs from the former dentist. Not dentist chairs. What could Hick possibly do with those? Besides build a dentist-themed shed. Like he built a barbershop shed to house the two barber chairs he acquired. No, Shackytown Boulevard will not be adding a dentist shed. These are waiting room chairs. I'm sure Hick will find a way to trade them for something.

But getting back to MY REUBEN...

It looks like "Hick's Gals" didn't go all-out this time. Obviously they are not going to load up a take-out for Hick's wife the same way they would for Hick. 

I set the soup "bowl" in there for perspective. It's broccoli cheddar soup. Looks like those kitchen gals didn't want any elderlies ruining their appetite for the Reuben. That's about a half cup of soup. The slaw definitely was not over-filled, either!

Sometimes I reap the benefits of being Hick-adjacent. This day, I did not. Hick is going Reubenless! Not such a big deal, since he DID eat one for lunch. Oh, and he'll get my dessert:

That's mini blueberry muffins. Not Lemon Cake as listed on the menu. Hick said he had "Birthday Cake," which was white cake with white icing with red on it. I suspected my muffins came from the bakery table at Country Mart. Hick thinks his cake did, too.

Don't you worry about Hick going hungry. He's just saving his appetite for the supper I made him Sunday night: Six Can Chicken and Dumplings! Hick LOVES this stuff. As he said, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth as he carried a heaping bowl to the living room: "It's even better the next day, because all the juice is soaked up!"

That's the container I took out of FRIG II. So they're cold in this photo.

Hick. The man who doesn't like "juice." Let the record show that there is very little, if any, juice in this concoction the minute it is done. You can't pour it. It's gloppy from the start. Hick has plenty left for a few days.

I know I've put my "recipe" here before, but I'll do it again. Somebody might want a rib-sticking meal during the frigid weather. I actually made Hick EIGHT Can Chicken and Dumplings. Because he's such a carnivore that I added two extra cans of white meat chicken. I always drain the liquid out of the chicken, and rinse it in the can. I don't like the chemical taste of canned chicken!

2 cans chicken broth

2 cans cream of chicken soup

2 cans white meat chicken

8 large flour tortillas, cut into dumpling size

half a tablespoon of minced garlic

ground black pepper

Bring the liquids to a boil. Add the cut-up tortillas. Boil for exactly 5 minutes, stirring constantly. Remove from heat, stir in the chicken, and serve.

I like these lazy-woman's chicken and dumplings just fine, but I generally leave them for Hick. Gotta say, when I licked the spoon, it was pretty good.

Oh, the REUBENity!

Monday is Reuben Day at the Senior Center. They can't fool Val, even if they DO list it under Broccoli Cheddar Soup these days. Reuben Sandwich is clearly on the menu for Monday, along with the soup, and SLAW, and Lemon Cake.

Val won't be getting a Reuben. 

I have that feeling in my bones. Hick hasn't said as much. I HAVE told him for a few days in a row that Reuben is on the Monday menu. He has merely nodded. Which is not a good sign. Especially after he mentioned Sunday morning that he had some chairs to pick up on Monday morning.

"That dentist who is giving away all the chairs is letting me get them Monday morning. I'll find some way to use them. Then if I can get away by 10:00 or 11:00, I'll have time to drive up and look at that trailer, and get back without going through rush hour traffic."

That right there is the nail in Reuben's coffin.

Hick will be too busy wheeling and dealing and (possibly) trailer-buying to have lunch at the Senior Center and bring me a Reuben. 

The Universe is as sly as Mr. Grinch. Everything happens on Reuben Day.

Where There's Smoke, There's a Worried Val

I pulled into The Pony's driveway on Thursday, to pick up my little companion for Errand Day. Smoke was billowing around the back of the house! I tried not to jump to conclusions. No way could I run inside and carry The Pony out on my shoulders. I can barely carry myself from T-Hoe to convenience store.

Maybe The Pony was sitting in the Rogue, waiting for me, and had started up the engine. It was 37 degrees. Yeah. That must be it. Car exhaust in the cold air. But no. That car wasn't running. Nobody inside. The smoke came from the other side of The Pony's house. The kitchen side, next to the neighbors.

Well. Perhaps The Pony was doing laundry. I don't know where the dryer vent is, but my own dryer makes that billowy white smoke during the winter. That must be it. Heat from the dryer, condensing in the cold air. 

The Pony came trotting out. Whew!

"Is your house on fire?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Are you doing laundry?"

"Nope."

"What's all that smoke! Look at it!"

"Huh. I did not know it was doing that. But don't worry. It's probably just the sewer. The city sent out a notice. They're doing a smoke test of the sewers over three days. This is the middle day. I don't have any smoke coming up in my house. So I figure everything at my end must be okay."

When I backed out and then turned onto the street in front of The Pony's house, we saw a crew with two or three city trucks several houses away. So I believed that was the source of the smoke. I asked Hick the next day about why they would be doing that.

"Is it to see if the sewer is blocked? Or if any smoke goes up into houses? Should all that smoke have been pouring out beside The Pony's house, there by the kitchen?"

"That's where The Pony's sewer vent is. The smoke could have been coming out there. The trap keeps it from going into the house. So that's working. I don't know why they would be doing a test. Maybe to see if the smoke comes out of the storm drains. Drain water is not supposed to mix with sewer water. According to the EPA."

The more you know... the less you worry about The Pony's house burning down at the first sign of smoke.

Some Flipping Trivialities

Hick took a small break from flipping and selling on Friday morning, to drive me to an annual doctor (Nurse Practitioner) appointment. Don't you worry about Hick losing any sales. His son, The Veteran, sat in the shop to handle any customers. Of course Hick drove (20 miles) down there to open up at 6:30. Then came home at 8:00 to take me to the 9:00 appointment. We were back home at 10:00. It's a big help for me, having Hick drop me off at the door.

Hick said on his way back to his SUS2.5, he was stopping by Bargain House to turn on a fan in the kitchen. It was to help the ceiling dry faster. Hick hired a buddy for $150 to put up plywood and drywall to patch the hole in the kitchen ceiling. Hick and Old Buddy usually do this themselves. But this buddy does it for a living. Included in the price is making the swirls on that section match the swirls on the existing ceiling. The buddy said that is no problem, he does it all the time. Hick said he figures this way is cheaper than paying Old Buddy $15 an hour for his efforts, and the finished ceiling will be better.

When Hick ordered the two pieces of silver backsplash needed to finish the job, he assumed they would be shipped to the Lowe's store, and he'd pick them up like usual things he orders. He found out Thursday, by email, that those two pieces will be shipped directly to our address. 

"That will take extra time, because it won't fit in the mailbox or parcel lockers. We'll get a notice, and I'll have to pick them up at the post office the next day. They're 18 inches by 24 inches."

"I don't think so. I bet Lowe's doesn't use the USPS. I bet they use FedEx. Or UPS."

Indeed, when checking the tracking during my appointment, Hick discovered that his backsplash is coming by FedEx.

I haven't heard anything about the backordered cabinet handles. Hick got the sale price, but I don't know where they will be shipped. The gray flooring (for the FLOOR) should be delivered to the store on Tuesday.

This upcoming week will have three days with temps in the 50s. So hopefully Hick will use that opportunity to power wash the side of Bargain House.

Also, Hick talked to the city building inspector about Cheap House. The city had given the original owner a short window of time to clean up the property (even though I don't think it looks bad at all). Hick explained how the closing has been delayed. The building inspector told Hick that until he actually takes possession, he is not responsible for that property. That the city will give a little extra time, considering this situation. And then notify the financial institution that is going to foreclose, and they, or the original owner, will have to go board up the windows and secure the property so it's not an eyesore or a hazard.

Hick has an appointment on Monday to look at another trailer. The destroyed trailer is sitting in the BARn field. If Hick takes a picture, I'll share it. He was able to save ONE of the new tires on it. Possibly another one, which he thinks only popped off the rim. 

Hick Shops for Backsplash, and SHINY!

Since nobody liked the gray flooring alongside the gray patterned countertop, Hick went shopping for other backsplash options for Bargain House. Apparently, Hick is easily distracted by SHINY things, and came back with this on Sunday:

"How do you like this seems will line up." I liked it just fine. So on Monday, Hick fastened it into place.

"Two pieces on rest tomorrow." I asked if he was going to put it around the window. "Window gets trimmed so maybe above the window."

Wednesday, Hick put the counter and sink in place, and trimmed the window.

"Sink and counter setting in place got to put the corner in." Hick is short two pieces of the backsplash. He went to Lowe's for more, and it is out of stock, so he ordered it. Also, he wanted to get some handles for the cabinets. They were on sale. But out of stock! Hick ordered them, too. They are black, long handles, not knobs.

Hick is at a standstill until his materials come in. Supposedly on Monday. He will be putting down that gray flooring, but not until Old Buddy is done painting, and with the ceiling. Just about all that remains will be painting the door, and getting under the house to hook up the sink pipes. And power-washing the side of the house, once the temperature is above freezing for a day or two. Oh, and putting on the door for the shower in the small bathroom, which Hick had to order.

Bargain House nears completion!

Val's Gut Might Have Been Right

Try to remember that time in September, when Hick and The Pony were all hyped up to buy Cheap House. When the 2/3 partnership ruled, and Val was outvoted. It's a nice little house in a nice little neighborhood, over by the School-Turn Casey's. It's pretty close to Bargain House. The problem is that it's a junked-up house in ill repair on the inside, though structurally sound. The biggest problem is that I'm concerned about the sellers. 

Cheap House was about to be a foreclosure. Hick got a tip from a Loan Officer, saying it wasn't quite ready yet. When he drove by to look at it, the lady who was selling it (for a relative) was there, and let Hick inside. She told Hick the amount owed on the house. They forged a deal. Off the books, Hick would pay her a little bonus for her help, as long as he could have the contents of the shed in the back yard. She could have anything she wanted inside the house. The bonus plus Hick's offer were a bit less than the amount owed to the loan company. Hick's offer was accepted on September 18th. So we got a good deal.

Well. We MIGHT get a good deal. We're still waiting for a closing date!!!

The loan company sent information to a title company to start the paperwork for the closing. Hick called both places over the past couple months, seeking info on when we could close. Supposedly they were tying up loose ends, getting The Lady to sign some paperwork. I again told Hick that I didn't have a good feeling about this deal. It shouldn't take so long. My original concern is still in effect: The Lady's relative might not want to sell, despite giving her power of attorney to do the deal. 

Hick said that wouldn't happen. But he was already wrong on one item, in that the relative is roaming freely among us, when originally that was not the case. Anyhoo... Hick said he told the title company that he wanted a complete title search, and title insurance.

The closing was finally scheduled for Tuesday, December 9th. Hick got that date when he called last week. But no time. He emphasized that he would need the amount, to go by the bank for a check. Yet there was no contact. Monday, the day before the mystery-o'clock closing, Hick called the Loan Officer to find out what was going on with the title company, since nobody was telling him anything.

There are two judgments against the property. To a total of around $7000. This was discovered during the title search for our title insurance. The loan company had no idea. The wait is for The Lady to sign paperwork with a financial institution to take care of that $7000.

Val's gut knows its stuff! If a Cheap House seems too good to true, it most likely IS. Hick says it won't be a problem, even if some other lien comes up after our purchase. That the title company will be on the hook for that. It's what title insurance is for. Without it, we would have to pay the judgment, or we couldn't resell the house. 

I hope Hick knows title insurance better than trailer insurance...

The Big Bad Wolf Bear

Hick played Santa on Saturday, for a local preschool group. He does it every year, taking little gifts to hand out to the kids. Nothing extravagant. He usually spends around $100 on them. Toys suitable for that age, which he takes in a bag, pulls the bag in a wagon, then dumps the toys in. The kids line up, and get to talk to Santa, then choose a toy from the wagon. 

Hick bought his toys this year. He left them out in SilverRedO, so I didn't see what he got. He just transferred them to his bag in A-Cad before going to the event. He DID have two boxes of toys that he was sorting through on the couch. One of them worried me.

"Are you giving those toys to the kids?"

"Yeah. My buddy gave them to me, for free, to hand out. He's been helping clean out his mother's house, and they're toys nobody needs now."

"I can understand those little action figures. But that big one? That WOLF??? It will scare those kids to death!"

"Wolf? There ain't no wolf. Oh, you mean the BEAR. Somebody'll want it."

"I don't know. They're just little kids. It might give them nightmares! Look at its face!"

"It'll be fine, Val. I guarantee you some kid will want that bear."

The Wolf Bear was at least 18 inches tall. It wasn't a fluffy stuffed toy. Just a resin figure you might set in a shelf. The expression was fierce.

MARK YOU CALENDAR! Val was WRONG! But even worse... Hick was RIGHT!

Hick was thrilled to tell me about the Wolf Bear.

"There was this one little girl, about 3. She went over to my wagon, and picked up that bear. Her mom and dad said, 'Are you sure that's what you want?' And she nodded her head and wrapped both arms around that bear, and wouldn't put it down. She carried it the whole time. She LOVED that bear."

Val stands corrected.

Hick Takes It on the Chin After a Chomp to His Rumpus

Hick's penchant for lending out his "toys" has come back to bite him on the rumpus. He has been waiting to hear from The Buddy about what insurance says concerning his wrecked trailer. Meanwhile, Hick did a little investigating and calling around on his own. He was wrong about insurance coverage on a trailer.

The only insurance Hick's trailer had was liability insurance. That was automatic, with the insurance on the pulling vehicle. All these years, Hick had assumed that a trailer is covered like the vehicle. Nope. It takes a separate insurance policy, just like a vehicle. You can bet Hick will do that with his NEXT trailer. If he ever gets one.

"That lady dealing with The Buddy's insurance from the truck rental called me back this morning. Right after I sent her a nasty email. She said that my trailer won't be covered, which I figured out by now. But she also said they ain't done nothin' with the claim yet because they don't have nothin' from The Buddy! A relative of his was handling all this, and ain't turned nothin' in! Not even the police report from the accident! So this insurance cain't do nothin'. I think he's using his regular insurance. Anyway, he's just gonna hafta buy me another trailer. There's no way around it."

"We can afford to buy you a trailer. He can make payments. Even if it's just a little bit a week. So he won't feel bad, and you can get paid back. There's no need to go without a trailer. You NEED a trailer. Just stop loaning it!"

"I'll have to look for one and see if I can get a deal. It's a 16-foot double axle dovetail trailer. I got my first one from a guy where I used to work, for $500. It'll be a lot more now!"

"You'll have to look around for a used one."

"I'm having the wrecked trailer hauled out here, so I can get my tires off it. I just put on 4 new tires this summer. It's gonna cost me $285 for the tow. I'll tell The Buddy he can junk the rest of the trailer. Sell it for scrap. Then he'll have a little bit of the money to start paying me back."

Being a nice guy is kind of expensive...