Val's Casino Bankroll Grows Fat and Sassy

I had a really good day at the casino on Monday. I had a feeling it was going to happen, because I'd been in a scratcher slump. The two vices seem to work opposite each other. Even Steven wants credit for that.

Anyhoo... Hick dropped us off, and went to visit his pawn shop friend who usually has special deals on merchandise for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). We agreed to meet at 12:45 for lunch, and The Pony and I proceeded to feed our respective casino bankrolls into the slot machines. We move around together, and find machines to play where we are within speaking distance. You know, to brag about bonuses.

The slots sure did love me that day! Almost every one I played gave me a bonus. Multiple bonuses. Not saying they were all large amounts. A bonus is still a bonus. You have the excitement of an OPPORTUNITY to win something big, like the time I won $8,600. Or last Christmas when The Pony won $16,000. Nothing like that on Monday, though.

My best win was on a Buffalo Chief slot machine. All I caught in the picture was the last screen of my bonus, which didn't win much of anything. It's the TOTAL that counts, after all my free games played out.

That was a $402.65 bonus, on an 80-cent bet. I had put a twenty in, and was playing on what it was giving back. I had a little under ten dollars left in it when this bonus hit. The Pony was sitting to my right. Losing, on the same kind of machine. But happy for my win!

The next best bonus was on a Tall Fortunes slot machine, the Buffalo Gold game. I didn't get the tower bonus, but I DID get a regular bonus, and collected all 15 of the special Buffalo, which changed other animals into Buffalo.

That was a $312.84 bonus. Not quite as good as the other. Not only by the amount, but because the bet on this machine is $2.40 a spin, because there are four screens that you're playing at once. So money goes fast if you don't get any bonuses. It took me several twenties before this bonus hit.

Anyhoo... I had good luck at everything I sat down to play. I was getting so used to it that I didn't take any other pictures! I left with my entire casino bankroll intact, plus a healthy profit. Hick lost a bit, and The Pony lost a bit more. However...

Flush with my winnings, I decided to spend some on the way home. Hick always stops at a Love's Truck Stop halfway home, for a diet soda, candy bar, and the bathroom. They have a lottery machine inside. I knew better than to try, what with my casino luck. So I designated The Pony as my agent.

"Pony. I'm giving you some of my winnings to go in and buy tickets out of the machine. I'll give you $60, and me $40. Get whatever you want, but I'd like two tens, and four fives. Crossoword and Tetris if they have them, otherwise whatever you think."

The Pony came back with our tickets, and began scratching in the car. I always wait until I'm home. Not sure if it was my lucky money, or The Pony's flat-out scratcher luck, but here's what his tickets won. The Pony likes the high-dollar tickets, and chose two $30 scratchers.

The Pony is a lucky dog! Each ticket won $100! Of course The Pony was thrilled, being out of the red from the casino losses. That first ticket has a 10X symbol with a $10 prize, and the second had a 2X symbol with a $50 prize.

Once home, I discovered that I had two winning scratchers. One of the tens won $77. And one of the fives won $15. So I had $92 back of the $100 I gave The Pony to buy our tickets. I'm not going to complain about an $8 loss, heh, heh. Especially since my money gave The Pony $200 for just walking in and pushing buttons on a machine. Kind of like how I won my jackpots...

Val Gets Fried Up

We went to the casino last Monday. Of course the high point, as usual, was LUNCH. Or it should have been the high point. I guess it was okay, in retrospect, considering how Val still thought she had a Reuben coming her way on Friday.

Hick chose the catfish and fries. When I saw it, I wanted to ask, "Where's the catfish?" I didn't, because I don't need any similarities pointed out to Clara Peller. But my point is, they used to advertise it as ONE POUND OF FRIED CATFISH FILLETS. And it WAS! I used to order it, and the fish was plentiful and delicious. Then ownership of the casino changed, and it became 3/4 POUND OF FRIED CATFISH. And a year later it was not mentioned how much catfish you would get.

Hick said the catfish was good, but he didn't like the spice stuff in the batter. Back when I used to order it, the batter was not spicy. 

I chose the fried chicken sandwich. I really wanted the grilled chicken sandwich, but it was $3 more, because it came with bacon and cheese. I don't want bacon and cheese on my grilled chicken! I can't imagine they would have cut the price by $3 if I asked to leave them off. Don't even get me started on asking for a fried chicken sandwich, but made with grilled chicken! I still remember my sister the ex-mayor's wife arguing for 30 minutes with them, trying to get some BBQ sauce on her chicken sandwich.

My fried chicken sandwich looked pretty good. It came with "comeback sauce" and pickles and onions. The Pony took the picture, which didn't do the sandwich justice from that angle. So another was necessary.

It was a nice plump piece of chicken breast. The first two bites were delicious. Then I got to the twisty part. You know, the chicken that is all tough with fibers weaving different ways, and you can't really chew it for eating, because it's more like chewing gum! That was a disappointment. But I was not the only one to be disappointed!

We usually get the COMBO, which comes with fries and a fountain drink for a "cheaper" price. This time, there were no fountain drinks available because the city was under a BOIL WATER order, and such drinks were not allowed, because they use ice made from the city water. Don't even suggest that a bottle of soda might have been substituted! No Siree, Bob! Not at this place. We still got fries, because that's what you want when you get lunch out, not just a sandwich or some catfish by itself. Let the record show that fries here cost $5. 

The Pony saw that a special this day was corn dogs. They're usually not on the menu. The Pony loves corn dogs. They look pretty good to me.

You may notice a lack of fries on The Pony's cardboard dish. As we were ordering, we all had food credit on our players' cards. The Pony decided to get fries as the gal was getting the credits off of our cards. She acknowledged the fries, and I thought she added them to the order. The Pony had more food credit left for another time, somehow. But we still got a bill for $5.48, which Hick paid with our debit card.

Anyhoo... the food came out, and The Pony did not get fries. Even the gal said, as she set them down, "Didn't you order fries?" The Pony agreed. She went back to her register, and we heard her asking, and said, "Yeah, I thought so." We waited. Not so much held up eating, but ate our food, anticipating the arrival of The Pony's fries. Which never came. Which kind of rubbed me the wrong way. I had told her let's check the receipt, but she said, "It won't be on there." Which was right. All they ever give you on their receipt is a total. I already threw it away, or I'd show a picture. Don't you worry about The Pony. I shared my fries, with an understanding that when his came, I'd get some of them. Didn't happen. THIEVES!

At least The Pony's corn dogs were tasty. We'll get to the gambling part tomorrow.

Beware of Boxing with Val

We are having a cookout on Monday. That's because it's been a while, and Hick didn't want to do it on Labor Day, because of his precious BUSINESS activities. The Pony is free, and said sausages or hamburgers would be fine. Nothing elaborate. We set out to gather our provisions.

I buy meat at Save A Lot. It's better than what you get at Walmart or Country Mart, and 10Box doesn't have store-made bratwursts. Usually I shop in Backroads, but with The Pony along, we went to the Save A Lot in Sis-Town. If you are familiar with Save A Lot, you know that it's a place where you bag your own groceries at a counter up front. Their bags are small and flimsy. On the way in, I told The Pony:

"Keep your eye out for good boxes. I'll have to carry this in when I get home, because Dad won't be there. I don't want a lot of bags. Boxes are always hard to find at this one. So if something is almost out, we'll put it directly on the shelf, and take the box with us."

I do this all the time when the other store is low on boxes up front under the bagging counter. Like at the end/first of the month, when people are moving. They come in and take boxes. Save A Lot doesn't care. It gets rid of the boxes.

Anyhoo... this Save A Lot must have more efficient staff, because there were NO suitable boxes to be found along the aisles. The closest we came was a box that had five boxes of crackers in it. They would have been easy to stack on the shelf, but The Pony said no! I don't set out with a plan to embarrass The Pony. So I acquiesced.

Our shopping trip was disappointing, because there were NO BRATWURSTS! Only the name-brand kind, which we didn't want. The only store version were the sausage patties. And only in two flavors: jalapeno, and smokehouse cheese. We don't like spicy, and we don't like cheese in our bratwurst. The patty was not a deal-breaker, but the flavor was. So we went without bratwursts and buns, because when I try the other store in Backroads, I don't know if I might find sausages or patties.

Anyhoo... we found a few other items, like lettuce and beans and chips and onion rings and boneless McRib-like shaped pork patties. The Pony wanted a bag of cereal and some sweet-and-sour sauce, and corn dogs. I said it was on me. Because I'm a big spender, you know, and the corn dogs were part of the 5 for $25 deal that included the onion rings and McRib patties.

There was only one lady ahead of us at the checkout, just finishing up. 

"You go in first, Pony, to set out the stuff in the bottom of the cart. And see if you can find a box under the counter."

The cashier scanned the stuff and put it in a cart. The Pony wheeled it off while I was paying with my card, and moving my empty cart around the end of the conveyor for the cashier to use for the next customer.

As I was stuffing my receipt in my shirt pocket, I saw a terrible box in the cart! It was a low, square, brown cardboard box, with a wide flap on each side. No! That was unacceptable! Flaps just get in the way, and you can't stack stuff in a low box, and it's awkward to carry.

"No! I don't want that kind of box!"

The hands putting items into that box stopped. An old lady looked at me like I was a raving maniac! I suppose I WAS! I noticed The Pony off to the left side of the counter, waving at me. To be fair, the Old Lady was right in front of me, barely away from the checkout...

"Oh! I am SO SORRY! I wasn't looking. I thought that was my cart! How embarrassing! Never mind. I AM sorry!"

Heh, heh! So much for not-embarrassing The Pony! Who found a suitable box under the counter, tall sides, orange, rectangular, and easy to carry.

It may take me several days to recover from extracting my foot from my mouth.

How Many Hicks Does it Take to Flip a House

Here's a brief update on the cheap house that Hick was notified about a couple weeks ago. You know, the house that Val was reluctant to invest in, due to its condition, and Hick's very busy schedule.

HICK'S OFFER WAS ACCEPTED!

Hick got the call on Thursday afternoon, when he got back into phone service range after working on a paid job for our old Backcreek Neighbors Nick and Bev. (Another prime example of why I don't think Hick needs another flip house right now!) The person in charge had submitted Hick's offer to the board of directors (or the group who makes those decisions, I'm not sure of their title), and they accepted. Money in the hand is better than a run-down property on the street!

Hick walked into our financial facility to withdraw some of HIS money for business purposes. He saw Loan Officer on the phone. Loan Officer said he had just been talking to the girl upstairs about paperwork to close the deal. He asked if Hick needed a loan, and Hick said, "No, we have the money." Once a loan officer, always a loan officer, heh, heh!

Let the record show that Hick's offer was less than the $22,000 that Loan Officer had told him it could probably be purchased for. Hick has a rough idea how much renovations will cost. And what property is worth, and connections for basic labor to gut the property. Hick said he would pay a guy a set amount to gut it, and however long it took would be up to him. That way Hick wouldn't be paying by the hour, and the guy would only get paid when work was done. He says renting a commercial dumpster is the way to go, rather than hauling loads of trash to the landfill. That he can rent a dumpster for a flat fee, with no time limit, until he fills it up.

Anyhoo... that's the status of the deal. We're just waiting on a closing date and location. As you might imagine, Hick is thrilled, The Pony is happy, and Val is preparing for another set of bills to keep track of.

More details will be revealed as they become available.

Reuben Is in Danger!

Looks like it's time for Val to realize that her happiness is just not a top priority for Hick. He brought home a menu for the Senior Center only a week late this month, and he professed that it was okay, because he KNEW the Reuben Sandwiches were on the 19th. Yes. They are. As I type this, tomorrow is the 19th.

I have mentioned it every morning this week, while telling Hick what I was making him for supper. "And Friday is the Reuben. So we'll have that."

This morning, I again mentioned Reubens for tomorrow.

"Well. If I can. I don't always make it there in time for lunch on Fridays."

Same song, different day. He tried this a couple months ago, and still ended up getting the Reubens, because I reminded him how he had made it there in time for LASAGNA the previous Friday. Just to eat for himself, you know, not to bring home for me. If it's easy enough to get there to eat lasagna, I would think it's easy enough to get there to eat a Reuben Sandwich and bring me one.

I'm pretty sure Hick just doesn't want to make the effort to bring home a Reuben.

As his punishment, he will have to bring home pizza. That will keep me from cooking for three days, heh, heh, instead of one. I suggested this switch, and Hick lobbied for Chinese. No siree, Bob! Chinese will feed ME for three days, but Hick eats his all at once. Leaving me to make something else for him those other two days.

It will be a cold day in Backroads when Hick can outwit Val! The temp right now is 89.

Santa in September

We went to the casino on Monday, so I was trapped in A-Cad with Hick for three hours. Hick's phone is connected to A-Cad's radio. Every time he got a text or call, The Pony and I were privy to Hick's business. Actual business. It's not all that interesting. Especially the call to order more inventory of items Hick would be picking up in Illinois the next day.

The incoming calls were more gossip-worthy. The first was a man from the apartments.

"Are you comin' today?"

"No. I won't be there until tomorrow morning."

"Oh. Well. I just thought you should know, before somebody else tells you, that the window in the laundry room is open. I was out walking around, kind of inspecting the place even though it ain't my job, and I saw it. There's no screen in it. I had seen so-and-so in there earlier. So I thought you should know about that."

"Okay. I'll be there tomorrow morning. Talk to you then."

"Who was that, your informant?"

"Nah. There's one lady there he don't like. He complains about her and thinks I should have a talk with her."

"She might have been in there smoking. Or somebody. Why else would somebody leave a window open in the laundry room, in this heat?"

"She does get into some problems. I think she likes to drink. A lot. And probably smoke, but not cigarettes."

"There you go! That's why the window was open."

"She could do that stuff in her own apartment with the window open. I don't know why she'd go to the laundry room. Unless she was doing laundry."

Within 30 minutes, another resident called. A lady this time, but not the problem.

"Will you be here today?"

"No. I won't be there until tomorrow."

"Oh. Tomorrow? I was in the bathroom yesterday, and my curtain fell down off the window."

"I can fix it tomorrow. But I'm not going to be there today."

"Oh..."

"Okay? I'll see you tomorrow, then. Bye."

"This job takes SO MUCH TIME for things that are nothing. Why don't you just go over there all day, and let them sit on your lap like Santa Claus, and tell you everything they want?"

Hick was digging at his seat belt. At his real belt. At the holster that carries his phone. He took out the phone and pushed on it. "There. Now it's hung up."

"Heh, heh! Was she listening to me? I thought it shut off."

"She didn't hang up like the old guy did. I doubt she heard anything. She's got a caregiver who comes every day."

"Why can't the caregiver hang up her curtain? Isn't that what they do? Take care of things?"

"I would think so."

"And I don't think your job [for less than $300 a month] calls for you to hang up people's curtains. Or lecture them about getting along with each other."

"It don't. But they're always wantin' somthing from me, that's true."

On Tuesday, Hick went by the apartments. Of course he was there to have lunch at the Senior Center downstairs. But he put a screen on the window and closed it. And found out the caregiver had already hung up that woman's curtain."

"What about the old man? Did you give that lady a lecture for him?"

"No. When I talked to him, he'd forgotten why he called me! So I didn't bring it up. Just told him I put a screen in the window. He's 87 years old."

I wonder if I could get one of the elderly residents to call Hick and say they have a 2008 Chevy Tahoe that needs an oil change...

Hick Needs an Intervention

Darn that Loan Officer! He has awoken the sleeping overworked dragon! No, we have not heard back from Loan Officer about that really cheap house he contacted Hick about last week. But he has put a bug in Hick's ear, and a thirst for MORE WORK in his veins.

Hick called me Tuesday afternoon around 1:30. Not a text, mind you, but an actual phone call. This is disturbing. It often means something is wrong. The first conclusion to jump to is a health issue with a family member. The next is usually the case: a problem with a flip house, or something else that's going to cost money. 

"I come over here in Sis-Town, not far from HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) House, where that gal lived he used to know. They said there was a load of lumber. I got here, and there was only 14 boards. So I guess somebody else must of took some of it. But anyway, her house burned a while back. It's not all burned. It's gutted, and some of the inside is charred. But it's a good house. It's on a double lot. I bet it could be bought for what that other house is worth..."

"NO! I don't want a house in Sis-Town. I don't like the way they do things. Just another property for them to be on you about constantly. They still haven't done anything to Pony's tree growing out of the ditch."

"But it's on a double lot. Right here in the city. And it's already gutted..."

"No. I don't have a good feeling about it. I don't want anything to do with people we know. The house isn't for sale. You start fixing it up, and they might want it back, or just flat out move in, and then you can't get rid of them. No."

"That's what you said about the cheap house. That you're afraid the guy might try to get it back."

"Yes. So the answer is no."

"Well... okay. But I think this would be a good deal."

"No."

Hick hoards collects many things, but flip houses are not going to be one of them.

Val Makes a Chilling Discovery

The Pony came out Sunday evening to help Hick prepare POOLIO for the winter. The cover has to be spread evenly, and tied down with cords at intervals around the sides. It was a steamy 94 degrees as I left for town.

When I came home, the job was done. Hick and The Pony were chatting in the living room, The Pony sipping ice water from a red SOLO cup. That's one thing The Pony misses while living in town: our well water.

I started preparing my Shasta Zero Sugar with squeezed lemon juice. When I opened FRIG II's freezer, I was astounded.

"What's going on here? The ice is FULL! Way too full. It wasn't like that this morning at 10:00, when I put ice in my water bottle."

"Oh. You mean it's WORKING," said The Pony.

"It's been working for quite a while now, ever since it spontaneously started up again after months of being broken. But it hasn't been working THIS much!"

I reached into the bin for my plentiful crescent ice cubes. We haven't used the lever on the outside of the door for many years. It had a habit of getting ice stuck in the opening, then crushing it into a powder. So Hick "fixed" it. Which meant that now it has a problem of shooting too much ice out, and not stopping, because Hick removed some part. 

Anyhoo... as I tried to grab a handful of ice, I realized that I was holding a SLAB of ice as long as the bin. It was on the right side, with loose cubes in the center.

"OH! I just found out why the ice bin is so full! It appears that PONY used the lever when getting ice for ice water! And pushing the lever made that spiral turning thing in the bottom move a slab of ice off the bottom of the bin, and all the other cubes are just sitting on top of it after it was lifted up."

"What? Oh. I DID use the lever..."

"Come get this slab out. We might have to take out the bin."

"Nope. I got it."

The Pony pulled out that slab of ice. It was as long as my laptop, and half as wide. The Pony chucked it into the sink, and went back for another slab, about 2/3 its size. The ice cube level was back to normal, and my sink was full of icebergs. Which I found out later had settled on the drain plug thingy, so I had a sink full of ice water.

The mystery was solved, and FRIG II's freezer is still making ice.

Val Has a Rare Reversal of Opinion

I left for town around 4:30 on Saturday. As I was easing myself one leg at a time down the steps, talking to Jack on the side porch, I heard a vehicle tearing down the gravel road. At first I thought maybe it was someone on a tractor, smoothing the gravel around. But it sounded too fast for that as it passed. So I deduced that it must be a 4-wheeler or side-by-side (like Hick's Gator, only sportier). When I got to the end of the driveway, I could see nothing but a cloud of dust hanging over the road. No vehicle in sight. But the tracks on the gravel screamed SIDE-BY-SIDE!

A tractor is wider than a car. These tire prints were closer together. And had made a distinct pattern in the gravel. It was like an S or a $. Weaving from side to side. JOYRIDING! Maybe to live dangerously. Maybe to kick up dust for fun. In any case, such evidence did nothing to rekindle (oops! KINDLE. You can't "re" something that was never there) Val's love fondness toleration of side-by-sides. They are the devil's mount! Keep them away from me! Accidents waiting to happen!

That's how I feel about these vehicles on the roads, like our 55 mph lettered blacktop highway to town. So many people drive them, with no sides, no helmets, and kids riding in the back. They don't stand a chance in a collision with a REAL automobile.

Anyhoo... this is the country. Our gravel road doesn't have a lot of traffic compared to the blacktop highway. But there ARE 45 families out here. So there are cars and trucks on the gravel road. Most drive around 25 mph, except the idiots. It's the weekend. Visitors and kids are out riding on the gravel road. There was really no reason for my cantankerousness. Still, I was sad that nobody was around to see me shake my fist and grimace in their direction.

I tooled along in T-Hoe, kicking up my own dust. At the top of Hick and Buddy's Badly-Blacktopped Hill, I slowed cautiously, because there's a curve to the left halfway down, and you can't see what's coming up. With that deep ditch along the right side, I don't want to have a collision, or tip over trying to get out of the way.

 

Welp! Here came a side-by-side, around the curve, tearing up the hill! It was driven by a teenage boy, with several cronies as passengers. I hit the brakes and eased T-Hoe as close as I could get to the ditch/chasm. And the most unexpected thing happened!

The SxS Driver slowed, pulled all the way over next to the trees, with only two tires left of the gravel, and stopped!!!

I gave a thank-you wave, and continued down the hill. That's when the most unbelievable thing of all occurred! 

SxS Driver lifted his hand to acknowledge my thank-you wave!!!

That's a pretty good kid. I hope he enjoyed his afternoon of joy-riding.

Too Many Carpenters Spoil the Apartment

Hick continues to be on-call for his newest job. I was trying to get his supper ready on Thursday night when his phone rang. The call went on and on. Of course I wanted supper to be Hick's focus, rather than an afterthought or an activity he could do while talking. This one would have been difficult. He was having a homemade McRib with sliced onion and pickle, with a side of thawed-out warmed-up roasted vegetables. That McRib was going to need two hands.

Hick wandered around the kitchen, letting forcing me to hear one side of the conversation. I hate that! It seemed like the call would never end. Hick finally saw me putting his rib on a plate, and wrapped up the conversation.

"That lady wanted to rent an apartment. I told her they were all full. I told her sometimes people move out. That one guy has been saying he's going to for months. And that I DO have one that I'm trying to fix up to get ready to rent, but it will take a while.

She said her dad is living in the city. He's lived in this place 36 years, and now it's being sold. Her and her husband want to get him down here, closer to them. He has too much money to get into any places that give assistance. He just needs a place to live. I told her I don't have any way of knowing when I might have an apartment. To text me her details, and I will put her on the waiting list with other people who have called me.

She said her husband is a retired carpenter, and he would be glad to help me get this other apartment ready. I said I can't do that. Because of insurance and stuff. I wish everybody I dealt with was like her!"

Heh, heh! Not me! She might be nice, but it's people like this who can take up a LOT OF TIME, just talking to them! Hick started off by telling her he didn't have any apartments available. Could she just ask if there was a waiting list, and move on? NO! Hick had to hear her entire life story, for something that was out of his control, and would have no influence on getting her an apartment. 

Not being mean. It's just that Hick's less-than-$300-a-month job sure takes up a lot of time.

The Pony was Yesterday Years Old Upon Learning...

The Pony joined me for Errand Day yesterday. One of the main stops is the bank. We both use the same one. I was withdrawing the weekly cash allowance for myself and Hick. The Pony was depositing some money from the recent sale of our upper 10 acres. I did my business at the drive-thru, while The Pony prefers to go into the lobby for transactions.

While we were out, The Pony was also going to give me some checks for expenses on the flip houses. I have been remiss in writing up the monthly bills for The Pony's records. I insist on separate checks for expenses attributed to the Double Hovel, Bargain House, and The Pony's house. So The Pony can keep it straight for tax purposes. Anyhoo... as I said, I'm behind with that. So there's June, July, and August to deal with.

I got my cash, and pulled around front for The Pony to go inside.

"I'll just write you my checks now, Mom."

"You don't have to do it today. I'm not going to put them in the bank today. I'll have to fill out my deposit slip and add it up. So next Thursday is when I'll deposit them."

"I can go ahead and give them to you while we're sitting here."

The Pony started writing out checks. 

"Huh. I was sure I had more than two checks with me! But look! What's this stuff? I thought it was just more checks and the carbons. But it's these other things."

"Those are your DEPOSIT SLIPS! Like, you fill it out and take it in with that check you're going to deposit right now."

"Why would I do THAT? I just give the girl the check and my ID."

"Um. Because it has your account number on it! So they know which account to deposit your check in!"

"She can just look that up with my ID!"

Kids any generation younger than ours these days! How will they survive?

On the flip side, I was reading an article (heh, heh, how many kids do THAT these days?) about a 7th grade teacher who asked his students to write down what 40-year-olds do for fun. I suspect that teacher might be 40 years old...

Anyhoo... here are some of the things those students listed:

Play Wordle

Crochet

Talk on their landlines

Sit in a chair and yell, "Get off of my lawn!"

Complain about everything I do

Balance their checkbook

Actually, they're not so wrong. Except maybe with the age of 40.

Treading Water on the New Venture

No news to report on the dirt cheap house Hick and The Pony want to buy. Of course, at the time I write this, it's only been 36 hours since we found out it existed. Maybe that's a sign. Maybe not.

Hick talked to Loan Officer, who said that TECHNICALLY, the house was not yet in foreclosure. He would have to discuss the matter further about the legalities of what Hick was proposing. Heh, heh. Maybe he didn't think Hick would act immediately.

I don't know how this stuff works. Hick says the S&L will post a notice when the property is foreclosed, and it will be sold to the highest bidder on the courthouse steps. I guess I'll take his word for it. I thought they only had that kind of sale once a year. But Hick says I'm thinking about the TAX SALE for properties that have delinquent taxes for three years. That's how he bought some of his "investment" properties. Like his strip of land...

Anyhoo... Hick says they can set a minimum for such a sale. But usually, they're just stuck with the highest bid that's offered. That Lady told Hick on Tuesday evening that a man had offered her less than half of what Hick was willing to pay. Of course Hick told Loan Officer about that. Tipping his hand that he knew EXACTLY how much was owed on the loan. Not sure if Hick was playing "Big Spender," or subtly pointing out that no one else would be crazy enough to pay off that loan for such a junky house.

Anyhoo... it's a prospect on the horizon. It could be a playground for Hick over the winter, or at least light a fire under him to finish Bargain House and get it on the market.

Dang Our 2/3 Partnership Rule!

There may be big news coming from Thevictorian Flipping Co. There may not. 

Hick was toiling away at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) Tuesday, after the installation of our new HVAC unit. I don't know what he does there when not selling, but it keeps him from working on more worthwhile projects busy. Around 3:00, I got a strange email from an unexpected source.

It was a loan officer at our Savings and Loan. The place where we'd borrowed $60,000 over 28 years ago to build our hillbilly mansion. A loan which has long been paid off. We used to have two savings accounts there, but have since squandered that money on college expenses not covered by scholarships, land, houses, and put into higher-yielding sources. There's just one account left, that Hick uses for his business. 

The email was to Hick, asking him to call Loan Officer, or text his phone number. Well. I didn't imagine anything was wrong with Hick's money, because it's not all that much to worry about. I had an inkling it might be about a tip on a flip house. Hick checks in with Loan Officer a few times a year, just to see if he knows of any foreclosures coming up. Sometimes he does.

I called Hick, who called Loan Officer, who said there's a foreclosure house that could probably be bought for about $22,000! I'm sure that no matter what part of the country you're in, you realize that such a price is REALLY cheap for a house. It's cheaper than Bargain House. Of course Hick said he would go take a look at it.

Loan Officer said that there are signs posted to KEEP OUT. But that the city building inspector could probably let Hick inside. He could not. But he said he knew who could: the lady in charge of it who lived right down the street. Without going into too much detail, she's a relative of the current owner (who is unable to make the payments). He gave Hick her phone number.

Hick went to the house, and That Lady was there! She let him in. Said she couldn't believe the condition the house had fallen into. Hick agreed. He said the whole thing would have to be gutted and re-done. Just like Pony House, which at least was already gutted when we bought it. For just a little over the price of this one.

That Lady told Hick what was remaining on the loan, and how much she was hoping to get, but that she wasn't paying a penny of this loan. So if the S&L didn't sell it for whatever they got offered, they would be stuck with it.

Hick said it would be a big job, but the location is good, and the outside looks good enough, but it might need a roof. He thinks the furnace and electric are fine. Oh, and it has a new toilet, heh, heh.

Hick called The Pony, who knows the outside of the house, having delivered mail there for a bit. The Pony looked up comps in the neighborhood, and there could be a decent profit, depending on how much we put in. Hick and The Pony want to buy it. I am not so sure...

Nothing may come of it. Loan Officer might not accept Hick's offer. 

Dang our 2/3 partnership rule! 

Val Is Cool Again

Thevictorians are the poor proud owners of a new air conditioner/heating system. I thought this day would never come. Or end. I've been dreading it. I hate people in my house. I hate an appointment hanging over me, making my time less enjoyable at the thought. I pretty much just hate everything that affects my routine.

The AC Team got here at 8:00, as promised. I had asked Hick if his buddy was coming, or just the flunkies. Because I would be reluctant to hand over an envelope of $8500 cash to some flunkies. I'm reluctant enough to hand it over to the boss of the company himself, Hick's buddy. Hick knows that. He didn't even let me touch that money! He counted it out from the one safe the night last night, and put it in an easier-to-get-to safe to dole out to his buddy after the installation. Saved him prying it from my cold, not-yet-murdered fingers.

Hick had given me many estimates of how long they'd be here. Kind of like Jerry telling Elaine how long she would be sleeping on the fold-out couch with the bar in her back, during their visit with Jerry's parents Helen and Morty at Del Boca Vista. Every time Hick told me, the time got shorter.

"I imagine they'll be here about four hours."

"They'll probably be done in three hours."

"It should just take a couple hours."

Sure... imagine my increasing disgruntledness as each checkpoint passed. They were STILL HERE! At least they stayed mainly in the basement, only coming up to replace the thermostat. I had a bit of panic when the kid installing it was missing a yellow wire. Hick was watching him like a hawk ready to swoop in on a field mouse. Turns out he had just missed the yellow wire, which was shoved back in the wall too far.

Anyhoo... the deed is done now, after FOUR AND A HALF HOURS! I don't like the new thermostat, because it looks cheap. I guess that's how Hick saved his $200 barter-money...

Hick left for town to get lunch and spy on Old Buddy, who had been assigned to do some painting in Bargain House. He left the new thermostat set on 72! See? I told you he's trying to kill me! I caught him on his way out the door and told him to put it on 74, like regular, because I would freeze to death. I'll have to learn how it works later.

Did I mention that I hate learning new technology?

The Squirrel Man Shooteth

Sunday morning, I heard two shots. Gunshots. Sounded like they were in the front yard. Of course I thought nothing of it. The Squirrel Hunter had just been here the day before, licking his lips filling his feeders with corn. But that was down in the woods.

Anyhoo... between 8:00 and 10:00, I heard three more shots. Two behind the house, and one in the woods. Then the shooting stopped. I assumed the Squirrel Hunter gathered up his bounty and left. I had the shades closed, and stayed away from the unshaded windows. Just in case, you know, this was really Hick's murder-for-hire plan. Val's momma didn't raise no fool!

When Hick came home from his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5), he said, "My buddy got five squirrels this morning!"

"He must be a good shot. Because I only heard him shoot five times. I guess every one was successful. Who's gonna cook these squirrels for him?"

"HIM, I guess! He ain't got no wife."

"Well, he can come out whenever he wants! He could have a freezer full by winter. Won't even need to buy meat!"

"He said he got two of them out here at the end of the carport. Then he sat down on the back edge of it, and got two more. The last one was in the edge of the woods."

"The ones that sounded like the front yard, I thought maybe he got them in the cedar tree. But I guess they ran down. I don't think he would shoot up in that tree, because of houses in the background."

"He was happy to get 'em."

I was telling The Pony about it on the phone.

"Wait! What's this? I never heard about any squirrel man!"

"Oh. I guess I forgot to tell you. But it's okay, because he hasn't shot me 'accidentally' through the window."

"At least Dad's doing SOMETHING about it. Before you have maggots falling out of the ceiling into your bathtub..."

"NOOOO! Stop! I still have PTSD about that, and it wasn't even MY house!"

"I had been telling Dad for a week that my house smelled like death!"

"Enough! I can't!"

"Okay. At least it's gone now."

At least some of our squirrels are being "recycled." That's five less we have to deal with.

________________________________________________________________

Here's a picture of one of the feeders. Which was installed behind our house Monday evening, by Hick and Squirrel Hunter, while I was in town!

This was taken from the back porch, with me leaning over the fake fish pond to snap the picture. I'm not sure how I feel about a SQUIRREL FEEDER installed 30 feet from the porch where we're trying to get rid of squirrels.

The Squirrel Man Cometh

Remember one of Hick's most recent plots for my accidental demise? His buddy, the Squirrel Hunter? Squirrel Hunter came out a couple weeks ago to put feeders filled with corn down by the creek behind our hillbilly mansion. Saturday, he came back to check on them.

Hick had told me that Squirrel Hounter was coming out one day, and I thought I heard a shot over in the BARn area. I didn't think much about it. I was warned ahead, and he wasn't by the house.

Anyhoo... when I left for town on Saturday evening at 5:30, a gray truck was parked beside the driveway. Hick had sent a text that his buddy was coming out, and they were doing down in the woods to fill the feeders. When I came home, Hick and Squirrel Hunter were walking from the Gator around to the back yard. I saw them over the porch rail as I went to the door. Squirrel Hunter looked like Hick, but a little taller, with a longer white beard.

"Them squirrels has eat a hundred pounds of corn!" said Hick.

"You really have an infestation down in the bottom," said Squirrel Hunter. [Heh, heh! That was almost my title: 'Hick Has an Infestation Down in the Bottom.'] "And they're BIG squirrels, too!"

"We have an infestation right here on the porch! All day long, they're running around the rail, eating the dog food, climbing the screens, chewing up the porch. When they hear something, they scatter. Mostly by running down this pole here at the corner."

"I told him he could set his chair right here and hunt them as they jump off the porch! No need to go down in the woods. He could pick 'em off as they run across the yard here to the trees."

"Yeah. Just don't shoot me through the window!"

"Oh, no. No house shooting. That's not worth it." 

[I suppose that's a little reassuring, though Squirrel Hunter didn't say he had not considered shooting me through the window. Only that it wouldn't be worth it. Thank goodness Hick is a cheapskate, always looking for a bargain, even on my pretty-sure murder-for-hire destiny.]

"I always say I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me, and that he hired you to make it look like an accident!"

Again, no denial from Squirrel Hunter!

"I killed seven of 'em one year when I put in the pool ladder. Drowned 'em!"

Again, Hick was not doing himself any favors with his communication style. It's not like he held seven squirrels under the water and drowned them! They got trapped when he took off the cover and drained some water, and couldn't climb out.

Squirrel Hunter said he got a couple of squirrels last week. I didn't ask if he cooked them yet. Maybe he's waiting to get a bunch of them, and have a squirrel fry.

Sunday morning, I heard five shots. I was in the living room at the time. The first two sounded like they were out in the front yard. The second two were the back yard. Then one in the woods behind the house.

Squirrel Hunter had remarked that the big cedar tree in the front yard was full of them. I've never noticed squirrels there, but they all scatter off the porch when I go out or come home. 

Anyhoo... I guess Squirrel Hunter was successful. I'll have to ask Hick what he finds out.

The Universe Comes Poking

The past couple weeks have not been good for Thevictorians. The Universe has been meddling again. The high point was Tuesday, when we had the closing for the sale of our upper 10 acres. Other than that, we've been on an express ride to Not-Heaven. There was the leak in Bargain House that destroyed the bedroom floor, and Val's near-death from a narrowly-avoided 35 mph collision, and the broken air conditioner at home. 

The heating and cooling system was installed in Bargain House. It was $4800. No surprise, it was true to the estimate. We knew this would be one of the major expenses. Hick had thought of doing the wall-mounted heating and cooling thingies, like he put in the Beauty Shop, but an actual HVAC unit was the better option.

Our own HVAC unit, which we have currently been using with the fan blowing on LOW continuously, and the COOL option turned on in the evening, has been recommended to be replaced. Funny. How in June, the workman who came to give us coolant at an exorbitant price, had told Hick that he should probably replace it, but that he's wait at least a year, due to a new coolant version coming out that's really expensive. REALLY? And now the boss of the company, Hick's buddy, says he could TRY to find a motor and replace it, but it would be better to get a whole new unit instead. It's a wonder Hick can walk, what with having two people pulling his leg to different lengths. 

Anyhoo... Hick says that we are getting a new HVAC unit, because this one is at least 25 years old, and that the other guy's recommendation doesn't matter, because it won't be needing coolant right away, and prices will go down. Doesn't make much sense to me, because of course a brand new unit will need coolant to start off with. But I'm not the dealmaker around here. Oh, and our new unit will cost $8,700. But silver-tongued Hick talked it down to $8,500 by paying cash. It will be installed on Tuesday.

Meanwhile, The Pony called Thursday night, all hush-hush because he didn't want Hick to overhear, to report that there was a LEAK in Pony House, around the air conditioning unit. That The Pony had turned off the AC, blotted up the water, and had put down paper towels. ALSO, that parts of his wood flooring had buckled (a week or so ago, not related to the AC leak), AND that he had a mouse, but had caught one in a trap.

The Pony didn't know if a mouse had chewed some vital tubing in his AC, or what might be going wrong. But was going to sleep with the windows open, and pick up the house so as not to get a lecture from Hick, who could hopefully come the next day to take a look at it. I told The Pony that Hick was at the hospital (visiting), so wouldn't be barging in that night anyway, and to give him a call later, around 8:30.

Not really good news, but acceptable news, is that Hick couldn't get his compressor hose into The Pony's AC, but his finger reached, and he cleaned out a clog in the drain hose. So The Pony's AC is working fine now. 

Hick says he might be the culprit for The Pony's floor buckling, since he ran the vent hose from the dryer under the house. It's an inside room, no access to a wall. So maybe the moisture from that messed with the floor. I am skeptical, because surely that would have happened before now. It's been over three years since The Pony moved in. The floor situation will take longer to fix. Hick is not sure where the mouse got in.

So... we are ready for The Universe to lay off for a while. 

Val Steps, Baby Steps

My mysteriously-injured rumpus/leg's shooting pain is almost completely gone. I haven't noticed even a twinge for a couple days. Sometimes I still get a bit of ankle/foot numbness if I stand in one position for more than a few minutes. But the only pain now is the regular pain in my knees from the bones grinding against each other. Especially when trying to move after standing.

I've been going without my cane. In the Gas Station Chicken Store, Casey's, the T-Hoe gas Casey's, and to the 10Box cart corral. So that's progress.

Thursday was beautiful. Bright and sunny, 74 degrees. A light breeze. It looked so much like fall. While coming out of Country Mart, pushing a cart with groceries for myself and The Pony, I remarked how good it was to be out and about.

"I feel like I could run a marathon today!"

"Oh?"

"Well. If I was pushing a cart, of course. And with different shoes."

Heh, heh! I was just happy to push that cart all the way back to T-Hoe without pain and unsteadiness. In reality, a marathon will have to wait.

Making a Bathroom While the Floor Dries

Hick used his time at Bargain House wisely. While waiting for the floor in the front bedroom to dry, he and Old Buddy completed the main bathroom.

The shower and fixtures are done.

Here is the door, and the flooring, both untrimmed in this photo. There's the new medicine cabinet.

The new vanity is in place, with the lighting fixtures. The new toilet here was waiting for a wax ring, which Hick just happened to have a spare at home.

Here's the completed main bathroom, except for a cover on the heating/cooling vent in the floor. Hick says they come in a grayish color, but he might paint it brown, to match the trim. I think leaving it gray would be fine, since it would match the flooring. Which Hick says is like the laminate wood flooring, just with different-shaped pieces. It snaps together. Hick said that to move the heating/cooling vent, he would have needed to cut through a floor joist and change the ductwork. This is where the vent was originally, so he left it there.

Anyhoo... considering that the bathroom used to look like THIS:

 

I think Hick and Old Buddy did a really good job with this room!

The Territoriality of the Professional Closer

Val was THISCLOSE to committing a rumpus-resting faux pas Tuesday at the closing for our upper 10 acres. It was at the title company we have used many times, starting with The Pony's house four years ago. Nobody called me out on it back then. We were escorted to the room, and I took a chair closest to the door, at the end of the table, where I could get up and down the easiest.

The next time we were there, Realtor had preceded us, and was in that chair. So I went down the left side to the end, and sat in the last chair. In fact, that is where I sat the next couple times. I was used to it, and in my mind, when I imagined going in for the signing, that's where I placed myself.

On Tuesday, Realtor and Hick were already seated when The Pony and I came in. Realtor in her chair on the end, and Hick in the first seat on the left. Well. It's a long narrow room, with a big table and six chairs. I couldn't comfortably walk with my cane behind Hick. So I went down the right side of the table. Got to the last chair, and was maneuvering my cane to sit down.

"That's where Closer always sits," said Realtor.

"Oh. Okay. Um..."

"She usually has you two sit across from her on the same side, so she can shove papers for you to sign."

"That's fine. I can go over there."

"I think you've sat there before."

"Yes! But I couldn't get past Hick this time, since he was already sitting down!"

I went around the end of the table, where The Pony usually sits, to the rolly chair where I am used to sitting. Whew! I didn't mean to upset the applecart! Realtor wasn't rude. She's just matter-of-fact. I have no problem with being told where to sit, as long as I'm physically capable of it.

When Closer came in with her stack of papers, she had no idea that I had almost usurped her rightful chair. I don't think she would have minded at all. In fact, she would probably have stood, rather than say anything. Heck, she would have probably walked those papers out to T-Hoe for me to sign. She's not at all territorial. I think Realtor was just looking out for her.

Closing Performance

Never a dull moment when Hick and Val (plus Pony) hit the title office for closing on a property! It's a virtual live-action box of chocolates! The sale of our upper 10 acres went quite smoothly. Hick only needed to stop by 2 hours later to pick up the check, since we had to wait until after the buyers' appointment that was scheduled 90 minutes after ours.

Anyhoo... the before and after antics were certainly entertaining. I picked up The Pony to accompany me, because he makes sure my rolly chair doesn't roll when I'm trying to sit down and get up. The Pony will benefit from this sale, but was not a part of the legal proceedings. Hick met us at the title office as usual. It was at my favorite place, next door to Hick's Friday afternoon bull-shooting lair.

I parked out front. We could see SilverRedO across the street. A car pulled into the space in from of us.

"Is that Realtor? It's a different car. Wait. That looks like her. But different."

"I think her hair is shorter, Mom."

"Yeah. And she IS walking funny, with that arm held out. Must be the one she broke."

But THEN Realtor got out of the passenger seat as this imposter opened the door!

"Huh. They sure LOOK alike! Even the haircut. Just a little different color."

Just then Hick walked up beside T-Hoe, and we all got out and went inside. Well. Hick and Realtor went inside, and The Pony made sure I got up the ramp and across the threshold okay. Hick and Realtor were gabbing away, having a knee-slapping time when we got into the conference room. We just got the tail-end of it, but Hick filled me in later, at home, with the rest.

You might recall that Realtor fell and broke her humerus the day after we had an offer on this property. That was not to be the extent of her suffering. The day after she broke her humerus, she went for a walk at home. She lives in a lake development, and was walking around the lake when she fainted. Her neighbor saw her lying on the ground and called her husband. But he had already been called by Realtor's watch! It automatically calls him if she falls. 

Don't think Realtor is fragile. She's older than Hick, but pretty spry. She could easily beat me in a footrace. Well. If she stayed on her feet. Anyhoo... her neighbor and husband got there and tried to help her up, but they couldn't. Then Neighbor's son came home, and got her up. Realtor was pretty sure she had lost consciousness for a bit. The ambulance came and loaded her up, and drover her to... A NEARBY CONVENIENCE STORE at the entrance to the lake development!

As Realtor said, "The EMT looked at her watch, and said, 'It's time for me to go off shift. So we'll wait here until my relief comes on duty.'"

Hick and The Closer were incredulous. "What? The ambulance WAITED? Parked? I don't think they're supposed to do that!"

Realtor said, "I KNOW! I wanted to say: 'Don't mind me. I just passed out, and my blood pressure is too low, and I have cancer, and a broken arm! Oh, and would you mind going inside and bringing me a soda and a sandwich?' It's like there was no sense of urgency at all!"

So later I asked Hick: "You're telling me that TWO MEN couldn't get Realtor up?"

"No. It's hard. Even me and the daughter couldn't get that old lady up at the Senior Center. They're like dead weight when you try to lift them. But the neighbor's son was a big boy, and he got Realtor up."

"Then what?"

"She sat on the side of the road."

"WHAT? I meant, did they walk her home and call the ambulance, or did the ambulance come there, or what? And two men couldn't get her into SITTING POSITION on the side of the road?"

"I don't know, Val. I didn't hear all the details."

"How about the EMT?"

"Her husband or boyfriend came to get her."

"Wait! She couldn't have stayed at the convenience store by herself, and let the ambulance go on?"

"Like I said, I didn't hear all the details. But I think another EMT came, and then they took Realtor to the hospital."

Oh, well. Realtor looked good enough. Chipper, even. As we were leaving, she said, "I see my Uber isn't here yet."

Hick said, "Uber? I thought your daughter dropped you off."

That's Hick for you, always putting his foot in his mouth. NOBODY had said that was Realtor's daughter, and in fact, Realtor replied, "No, it's not even an Uber. That's just my friend who's been driving me around since I broke my arm."

Heh, heh! I later told The Pony, "Imagine having someone tell you that they think you are old enough to be your friend's MOTHER!"

At least nobody fell down or needed an ambulance...

Too Cool! Too Cool!

We are still waiting to find out specifics on when our air conditioner might be diagnosed and repaired. That's a holiday weekend for you. Well, played, THE UNIVERSE! I hope your ribs hurt from lengthy guffawing.

Meanwhile, Hick has a routine. He turns the AC on in the morning when he gets up, and off as he leaves. It brings the temperature down one or two degrees in that half hour. In the evening, he turns it on again, until bedtime (for him). That's the problem. He sets it way low, to cool as much as possible before turning it off. Then the continuous fan circulates that air all night. We don't want the fan to stop, and we don't want to leave the AC on, in case it does. That would freeze the coil.

As I've said, I'm not uncomfortable during the day. The house doesn't heat up until afternoon. It's generally around 74-75 until I leave for town, then goes up to 78. We usually have it set on 74 anyway, in the summer. I still use a blanket when I lie down for my nap before town. It's not like I have a roaring fire in a wood stove, fixin' vittles for Hick while he's out hoeing (heh, heh) the North Forty. I sit around at my laptop, wash dishes, and watch TV.

In the evening, Hick lounges around in tighty-whities, shirtless, with the AC running continuously for 3-4 hours. This is when I become uncomfortable. Like as I'm typing right now at the kitchen table. My hands are so cold that I must stop to shove them into my armpits like Mary Katherine Gallagher. The tip of my nose is cold and dripping. I guess I'm healthy as a dog. I'm wearing a sweatshirt over a short-sleeve shirt. What I really need is my sock cap to hold in body heat.

"Hey! What's the temperature, anyway? About 50? I'm freezing to death!"

"Heh, heh. I'll turn it off here in a minute."

At 8:00, Hick got out of his recliner to push the button to turn off the AC. Yes, I could have done it. But that's Hick's job! No need for me to walk to the living room. I might snap off an arm that is frozen like an icicle.

About five minutes later, I could tell the vent behind me was no longer pumping out cold air. Just circulating the cold air that stayed a steady temperature.

"How cold was it, anyway?"

"Seventy-two." Said Hick, with the inflection of the Land Shark announcing, "Candygram."

Hick is not a good liar. But he knows Val is too lazy frozen to get up and walk to the living room to check the temperature for herself.

Not Cool, Not Cool!

Fresh off her near-death experience on Thursday, Val counted her blessings and continued her low-speed journey through life on Friday. Nothing seemed amiss, though I DID subconsciously notice the air conditioner kick on and then right back off a couple times. There's a vent directly behind my chair where I do my innernetting on HIPPIE at the kitchen table. It was unusual enough to notice, but I figured it was because we'd had a bit of a cool(er) wave for a couple days, with temps in the 70s. Our thermostat is set for 74. So I figured it was just some heat-pump anomaly, due to the outside and inside temps being about the same.

While in town, I noticed that the heat was coming back. It was 84 there, and 81 back in the country when I got home. Our inside temperature was 76. That's not right. I made a mental note to tell Hick when he got home. Let me also add that I was a bit perturbed with Hick anyway, since he had not shown sufficient concern for my NEAR-DEATH NEAR-COLLISION AT 35 MPH on Thursday!

Anyhoo... Hick immediately set to investigating the AC issue. First of all, he went out on the back porch by POOLIO, an area directly above our AC unit. He came back in, saying the air conditioner was running. Yet there was no air coming from the vents. So the problem must be the fan. He went down to the basement.

I waited to hear the air start blowing, but it did not! Save for one feeble gasp, then silence. I heard Hick clanking around on something. Twenty minutes later, he came back upstairs.

"I think it's the motor for the fan. Either that, or the smart board. The AC is running, but the fan isn't getting the message to blow."

"But it did for a few seconds!"

"That's what makes me think it could be the smart board, which tells everything what to do. A motor for the fan would be cheaper. I'll call my buddy to see if he has a motor. I can put that in myself."

You may recall that we just went through a round of AC problems on June 5th. For which we had a service call from a guy at Hick's AC Guy's business, and paid A LOT of money for coolant, without an itemized bill. Hick talked to his guy, who had been off with back surgery at the time. The bill got explained (put your investment money into AC coolant, people!), and AC Guy said to call him directly next time, not his business.

Anyhoo... Hick said that he'd call his Friday afternoon bull-shooting crony on Saturday. He runs a shop that supplies assorted motors. Turns out he doesn't deal in AC motors. So Hick called his AC Guy, and explained the symptoms. AC Guy said it sounded like the motor of the fan, that all smart programming is IN THE MOTOR, and that he couldn't get one until later next week.

Hick had said before even talking to AC Guy that we have a three-speed fan. Which is more expensive that just a one-speed fan. In fact, two hours after Hick had been to the basement meddling with putting the fan on the lowest speed, IT KICKED ON. And has been running ever since. The problem is that if it goes off, the coils will freeze up on the AC. So we only turn it on in the evening, when Hick can actively listen to see if the fan stops running, so he can turn off the AC.

Ain't THIS a fine kettle of warm fish? So now we wait. For a motor that might or might not be the problem. Hick has no idea what it might cost, which is never a good sign. Oh, wait! We have the closing on the sale of our upper 10 acres on Tuesday. But that isn't OUR money. It's earmarked for Genius and The Pony. Somebody forgot to inform Even Steven and The Universe.

Anyhoo... temps are in the mid-80s this week. I'm not TOO uncomfortable. It's not like going without electricity. At least I'm not living in a brick building, having to sit in the lobby to cool off.