The Universe Tries to Get Hick in Trouble

Hick normally doesn't need any help getting himself in trouble. Thursday evening, The Universe gave him an assist. 

I knew that Hick was spending the morning working in the more remote nowhere of former Backcreek Neighbors Nick and Bev's house. Then he would be at his SUS2.5 puttering around until his long-awaited MRI at 3:30. I was off running errands with The Pony, and returned home at 4:30.

I was hoping for some kind of update on the MRI. The technician is not supposed to tell you anything. But we had a friend who worked in the radiology department of a local hospital, who told us The Pony had pneumonia when he was four. Good thing! Doctors had him seeing a cardiologist because he tired out so easily, and was listless, and didn't even want to play at Chuck E. Cheese. With her input, we were able to advocate for The Pony to get treatment for pneumonia, though we kept the cardiologist appointment, and heart issues were ruled out.

Anyhoo... I didn't hear anything from Hick. He's usually home by 5:00. I thought he might have gone back to his SUS2.5 after the MRI. Maybe he had a customer he was meeting. His phone doesn't work (for me) from inside his SUS2.5. I sat down to scratch my lottery tickets. 5:00 came and went. No Hick. No text or call. Maybe the MRI appointment ran late.

By 5:30, I was getting worried. It shouldn't take that much longer, even with a late appointment. Surely Hick would have let me know. He must be on the way, thinking he wasn't all that late to warrant communication.

By 6:00, I couldn't stand not-knowing. What if they saw something on the MRI, and were rushing around trying to get Hick admitted to the hospital! It had been such a long time getting that appointment. Maybe Hick's conditioned had worsened!

I didn't want to bother Hick if he was not able to use his phone. But I couldn't take the suspense. I called him at 6:05.

"Where are you?"

"Didn't you get the text?"

"NO! I didn't get any text!"

"I sent one around 5:00. I went by to pick up my tractor from HOS [Hick's Oldest Son]. We brought it home, and now I'm taking HOS back. We're about halfway to his place."

"Oh. Okay. See you later."

I don't like to talk to Hick while he's driving, because HOS's roads are even more country than ours, and Hick is not the best driver even when he's not distracted. I checked my phone again. Nope. The last text I had from Hick was 11:30 a.m., when he had acknowledged the text I sent him at 10:45, telling him to use the debit card to pay for the MRI.

Huh. Hick SAID he sent me a text. But maybe he forgot to actually hit SEND. Or maybe he sent it to the wrong person. He'd better not be making this up, just to stay out of trouble!

When Hick got home just before 7:00, he immediately got out his phone to show me. 

"See? I sent it at 5:05! Telling you that we brought the tractor, and I was taking HOS home."

"I see it there. But it doesn't say DELIVERED. Mine either says DELIVERED, or it says READ after the person opens it."

"Mine don't do that. It changes color."

"Well. I guess you sent it. But I didn't get it!"

"I wondered why you didn't answer me back like you usually do."

Hick is off the hook for this one. The Universe is a pot-stirrer!

No, I Didn't Forget

Time once again to show the holiday feast for Thevictorians. We had our Easter Dinner on Good Friday, to accommodate Hick's greedy busy sales schedule at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). There's nothing new. Same old foods. But who doesn't like to look at food, right?

That is The Pony's plate. The Pony loves the roasted vegetables, which we refer to as "vinchtables" from childhood pronunciations. Also stuffing (from a box). There's some ham waiting to be put on mini sandwiches made with Sister Schubert's Rolls, along with some pepperjack and swiss. Red onions. Deviled eggs, of course. And some chips. The white stuff on the plate is French Onion Dip, I think. And salad, which I don't remember making separately this time, so The Pony must have had to do it (!).

Hick's plate is more ham-heavy. He's quite the carnivore. Hick also took a healthy (?) serving of potato salad. Which I was disappointed not to see on The Pony's plate, but The Pony likes it at room temperature, so was likely waiting to have it that way later with leftovers at home.

How dare Hick only take that much of the 7 layer salad!!! It seems like a mere token.

THIS is how you eat 7 layer salad! In a bowl piled to the top! So what if the rest of my plate "suffers" from having less? That salad is the main event.

Once again, I forgot about the dessert. It was only a variety of store-bought cheesecake slices. Hick and The Pony like them. I just had a couple of PEEPS.

The leftovers are all gone now, except a few slices of ham that we're eating in sandwiches. The bone is in FRIG II's freezer for a pot of beans. I'm missing my 7 layer salad already. I had been putting it on a wrap with ham for my suppers. Hick did not mind. He got the deviled eggs and potato salad and vinchtables.

When No News Might Be Good News

Here it is, two days past the original closing date for our sale of Bargain House, and we still have no check and no inkling of when we might get a check.

Hick has been communicating with Realtor Guy. It's not like he is ghosting us. He just has no information to give. The last we heard, the Buyer's financial institution had scheduled an appraisal of Bargain House on April 3, which was Good Friday. The Monday, April 6, closing date came and went. No closing.

On Monday, Realtor Guy informed Hick that the reason for the last-minute appraisal was because "The Buyer's financial institution had the wrong closing date."

How does that happen? Three ways possible, I'm guessing. The financial institution got the wrong closing date from Buyer, or Buyer's Realtor. Or they got the right date, but a worker at the financial institution itself recorded the wrong date.

Anyhoo... Realtor Guy told Hick that the appraisal report should be in "tonight." What does THAT mean? Do they work 24 hours? Where does it come "in?" To the financial institution, maybe? Then what happens? Do they have a board that has to approve the loan? 

Hick told Realtor Guy on Monday that if our closing could not be scheduled for Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday, it would have to wait until next week. As I type this, it is Wednesday night at 9:00. Hick talked to Realtor Guy this afternoon, and he said he still had no information on a closing date.

Looks like it will be next week at the earliest. Hopefully, it won't conflict with Hick's as-yet-unscheduled diagnosis/treatment of his lung ailment. Meanwhile, Hick's glass guy is fixing the windows at Bargain House on Friday.

Surely it's at least good news that we haven't heard anything, right? Wouldn't we know by now if Bargain House was not appraised at the amount needed to justify Buyer's loan? We're not counting on anything for certain...

Hick's Harem Informant

Monday evening, Hick and I were watching the finale of Extracted. It's a reality survivor show that we've followed since January. It was in the last 10 minutes, just ready to reveal the winner, when Hick's phone rang. He answered. It was one of his harem from the senior apartments.

"You know that table that was in the upstairs hall? Well, I just thought you should know, it's gone. Somebody took it."

"Yeah. I know. I have it."

"Oh. I thought you'd want to know that it was missing."

"It's fine. I have the table. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

That was pretty quick for getting one of his harem off the phone. After we finished our show, Hick said:

"At least it only took her 12 hours to notice that the table was gone, heh, heh."

"What did she expect you to do, rush over there tonight with a magnifying glass and look for fingerprints? Go door to door and search all the apartments?"

"I don't know what she expected. You never know with them gals."

Maybe Hick can organize his harem into a "neighborhood" watch group, one on each floor. 

Hick Can't Catch a Break. Or Breath.

Hick continues his quest for an MRI. You know, the MRI that was ordered by his Nurse Practitioner after she called him on Monday, March 30, saying his x-rays suggested that he had either a partially-collapsed lung, or the beginnings of pneumonia. 

Hick went back to his NP on Wednesday, April 1, because the lab said they couldn't give him an appointment sooner than two weeks. The NP and staff thought they had figured out that it was the hospital lab's misunderstanding about needing insurance approval. Hick said he'd rather change it to the imaging center. The NP said the imaging center would call him on Thursday, April 2.

That was quite a little April Fool's joke, I guess. Nobody called on Thursday. Nobody called on Good Friday. Today (Monday, April 6), Hick called his NP again. She said she would call the imaging center again. 

The imaging center called Hick, and said they could not give him an appointment for his MRI until it was approved by his insurance. So Hick called his NP, slightly irate, I would imagine, over the audacity of the imaging center to require insurance approval when his NP says it isn't necessary.

The NP called the imaging center again, stating that insurance approval was NOT necessary. 

The imaging center called Hick, giving him an appointment for an MRI on Thursday, April 9, at 3:30. 

Hick declared (to me) that he might as well have taken the appointment the hospital had offered him for next Tuesday! Since this had not gotten him an appointment much earlier. He says once they do the MRI, it will take his NP at least two business days before she reads it and contacts him.

Meanwhile, Hick is sounding a bit wheezy. He tries to do his deep breathing like his NP instructed, but that makes him dizzy. He sounds more wheezy to me. He says his upper right lung feels like some fluid is trying to come up when he coughs.

My whole point all along has been that his NP could have given Hick an antibiotic (for the possible pneumonia), and it wouldn't have hurt anything if he turned out to have a partially-collapsed lung. Whereas treating him for a possible partially-collapsed lung might not have been good for pneumonia.

That's how I see it. It's not like Hick is demanding unnecessary antibiotics for a common cold. The NP is the one who suggested pneumonia, after reading his chest x-ray. Dr. Val will step down off her soapbox now. Hopefull not injuring her fragile knees.

The Universe Thumbs Its Nose at Thevictorians

Dang The Universe! After getting our hopes up, with such a quick contract on Bargain House, The Universe is now toying with our semi-livelihood. Remember the "surprise" last-minute appraisal that was scheduled by The Buyer's financial institution on Good Friday? It appears to have become a monkey wrench tossed into this sale.

Saturday evening, I quizzed Hick on his latest communications with Realtor Guy.

"Are we still having the closing on Monday? We kind of need to know. It affects three of us. And we can't just pop in at the last minute. It's a 30-minute drive. Longer, because we have to pick up The Pony. I need to know, so I can plan when to take my morning medicine."

"I don't know Val. I sent him a text on Friday, and I still haven't heard anything back. I'll send him one tonight. But with tomorrow being Easter, I doubt I'll hear from him."

So what do we do? Plan our day like we're going to a closing at 1:00? Or go about our regular business, assuming that it will be rescheduled? Or maybe the deal will fall through because of the appraisal? Even though Realtor Guy had told us The Buyer was approved for a loan $20,000 more than our contract amount.

Sunday at 11:04, I got a text from Hick at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5).

"Val i got a message from Realtor Guy he says he has not heard anything but we are most likely not closing tomorrow"

Well then. I will go about my normal business of doing nothing most of the day. If the closing for some reason mysteriously gets the go-ahead, that title company will just have to wait to give us a check!

Val Has Shown Remarkable Restraint

I have been sitting on a secret for the past couple of weeks. Not literally sitting, because my ample rumpus would do no favors to my secret. Which I am sure is no longer a secret, because you've seen the thumbnail picture before reading.

I HAVE BEEN HOARDING PEEPS!

Yes. It's the season for PEEPS. I found some new flavors. Of course I had to buy them. They pretty much hopped into my cart on their own, and twisted my arm behind my back to persuade me to take them home. They may THINK they're safe. But they're not. I'm only waiting on The Pony to come out and help with Easter Dinner. Then we'll crack open those PEEPS for a tasting. 

We are having Easter Dinner on Friday, because it's more convenient for Hick's business. So Thursday and Friday, The Pony and I will be PEEPing. Of course we will set some aside for Hick to have later. And a few for me to enjoy at my leisure. I don't want to overdo it. Then The Pony can take the rest home.

Here are my new flavors. In no particular order. I think I bought them over two or three different trips to 10Box, because they had a big bin, and different days there were different flavors.

The cashier said the Cotton Candy flavor is always the first to go. When the first shipment came in, she ran to get her share. Indeed, they were out of this variety on the first day I bought some.

They're not so pretty, but Dr. Pepper might be an interesting flavor. Not sure how The Pony will react. Way back in third grade, for surgery on the first broken elbow, The Pony chose Dr. Pepper scent for the anesthesia mask. Hope this doesn't cause any flashbacks!

Everybody knows Val LOVES a birthday cake flavored treat. I imagine Party Cake is the same thing. Hick may not get some of these!

I bought two of the Rice Krispies version. Not because I think they'll be my favorite, but because I think The Pony will like this flavor best. How could it go wrong? PEEPS are already 99% marshmallow. So the "Rice Krispie" flavor should be simple to add.

Of course I had to get the original basic yellow PEEPS. I'll probably keep them just for me. Everybody knows what an old-school PEEP tastes like.

I only regret that all these PEEPS were the chick shape. I am partial to the bunny shape. I like biting off the ears first. Then their abdomen, then their rumpus. It's harder to dismember the chicks evenly.

Happy Easter to all my PEEPS!

The Universe is Working Overtime

The Universe has been quite busy plotting to derail any plans had by Thevictian family of late. Val had a monkey wrench thrown into her knee joint replacement talks. Hick can't get an MRI scheduled to see what's up with his lung. And we can't get a definite time on the closing for Bargain House that is supposed to be on Monday.

I told Hick he REALLY needed to pin down Realtor Guy for a time. It was already mid-week, and many businesses are closed on Good Friday. How would we know when to show up on Monday for the closing?

Hick called Realtor Guy on Wednesday. He said to plan on around 1:00, he guessed. Which didn't sound very definite to me. It's a 30-minute drive for us. Longer, because we will swing by to pick up The Pony on the way.

THEN, on Thursday evening, Hick got a notice that there was an appraisal scheduled for Bargain House at 11:30 a.m. on Friday!

"That seems to be cutting it close! I'm not sure we can go through with the closing on Monday."

"It's seems pretty odd that the house will be appraised on Good Friday. Unless... they're in a rush to get it done in time for the closing Monday."

"I don't know. Some places are open. I've been thinking, after this one, I'm not sure I want Realtor Guy handling any more of our properties. I don't like all this electronic and email and online stuff. Realtor used to call me and have me come by her office to sign papers. I like the old-fashioned way better."

I said Hick should mention that to Realtor Guy. That we want to stay with him, but only if he will handle our deals like Realtor used to. Then it's up to him if it's worth changing his habits to keep our business. 

Meanwhile, I'm hoping the closing is not postponed. The Buyer is the one who decided on the date anyway. He should have made sure everything was on track to be ready.

Get an MRI, or Die Tryin'!

You may remember that Hick got a call from his Nurse Practitioner on Monday afternoon, telling him he needed an MRI because the x-rays showed that he might have a partially-collapsed lung, or the beginnings of pneumonia. She asked if he wanted a referral to the hospital lab, or the local imaging center. Hick said the hospital. His NP said they would call to make an appointment.

Tuesday passed, with no call. Then Wednesday, the hospital scheduling office called. The gal told Hick that the soonest appointment was two weeks out. This was not acceptable to Hick.

"I need the MRI because my doctor says I have a collapsed lung or pneumonia. I could be dead in two weeks!"

"Sorry, sir, but that is the earliest we can schedule an MRI for you."

Hick stopped by his NP's office to complain ask why it should take so long. His NP said it SHOULDN'T. She and the office gal who does the referral thingies got to looking into it. Somehow the hospital was saying it had to get pre-approval from Hick's insurance. But NP and Office Gal both agreed that it did NOT need pre-approval.

Hick said he was done with the hospital. To get him into the imaging center. NP said they should be calling Hick on Thursday morning. Well. Thursday has passed, and Hick got no call to schedule an appointment.

He's hoping to get a call today. With it being Good Friday, I'm not sure this call will happen until at least Monday. When we are scheduled to close on Bargain House. Or ARE we???

Out of the Fingers of Hick

One little letter can make a big difference in the meaning of a message. I'm fairly adept at deciphering Hick's chicken-scratch notes, and badly-typed texts. But his most recent text gave me a start.

The closing for our sale of Bargain House is scheduled for Monday. You may recall that this buyer has been a bit... um... persnickety, shall we say? Hick's Window Guy has the parts to repair the vapor seal on the three (not four as originally expected) windows. He told Hick this week that if it wasn't Good Friday, he would have been able to get it done then. But because of the holiday, these windows won't be repaired in time for the closing.

Realtor Guy says the Buyer is okay with getting a receipt showing the window work is paid for. I gave Hick a check (already filled out, so it's legible!) to pay the Window Guy on Tuesday. As far as I knew, everything was just fine for the deal. 

Then I got a text from Hick on Tuesday around 1:30.

"I'm in [Bill-Paying Town] waiting to give heck to glass guy"

WHAT??? Had some kind of problem come up? Would the windows cost more? Was Window Guy not able to fix them? What kind of mess were we in now, with the closing so close?

Then I looked at the text again. MAYBE Hick just forgot a letter.

"Check, I hope you mean!"

"Yes check"

Whew! That was a close one.

Turns Out Hick Needs a Breath of Fresh Air

I am a bit concerned about Hick. He is always on the go, taking on new projects all the time. You'd think he would have been all over Lap House by now, as with every other flip house we've bought, ready to get started as soon as he had the keys. But no. Hick has been working on renovating one of the senior apartments. And taking on a side job to put flooring in a woman's house.

In the midst of all this, Hick has some fairly minor surgery scheduled this month. As a condition of that surgery, he needed to complete some tests to see if he is fit for it. Like an EKG, and a chest x-ray. Monday afternoon, he got a call from his regular Nurse Practitioner who has scheduled the tests for him. She was concerned about the chest x-ray.

"She thinks I have a partially collapsed lung, or the beginning of pneumonia. So I have to get an MRI to see what it is, and what they'll do about it."

"You've had this little cold for about a week. Maybe it's because of that. I don't hear you coughing up much stuff. Or if it's a collapsed lung, maybe you hurt something when you fell and busted your lip."

"I don't know. My upper right chest has been hurting a little for a while now. Since before I fell. I thought maybe it was from when I slipped on the ice getting in my truck at Casey's, and laid on the parking lot for a while. I hit hard. I guess I ain't gettin' enough oxygen. Maybe that's why I'm always tired, and I get dizzy."

"Do you feel like you have a fever? Like when I had pneumonia."

"No. I don't think I have a fever. She told me to make sure to take a lot of deep breaths through the day. You know my brother just got out of the hospital in Vegas, after having pneumonia. He was in there a long time, and they sent him home with oxygen. But he felt bad enough that he went to the emergency room."

"Maybe you had a little cold a while back, and it developed into pneumonia. They can fix you up with steroids and antibiotics if they catch it quick enough."

"You'd think she would have noticed that, though, when I went for my appointment last week and she listed to my chest. I don't know about a collapsed lung."

"When I think of a collapsed lung, I think of the show ER, where they'd slice open your side between the ribs, and jam a tube in there to drain out the blood that caused the lung to collapse! But those people definitely knew they couldn't breathe."

"I don't know. I guess we'll find out what it is after the MRI."

No idea how this will affect the upcoming surgery. Let's hope there's an "easy" fix for what ails Hick.

Egging Him On

Sunday I cleaned out FRIG II to make room for my Easter dinner supplies. I already have a spiral ham taking up half of the bottom shelf. I needed to buy three dozen eggs for the potato salad, 7 layer salad, and deviled eggs. Hick has the carton of his FREE eggs a buddy gave him at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) on the second shelf. I had a dozen (with only four left) on the third shelf. 

I let Hick's eggs be. Mine were probably getting too old by now, so I planned to toss them. It's pretty easy around here. Just chuck them off the back porch into the woods. The Pony used to try hitting specific tree trunks with them. That's about the extent of The Pony's athletic prowess. Anyhoo... I set that carton of eggs on the kitchen counter by the door. When I left for town, I was preoccupied with taking a treat to the dogs, and didn't throw them yet.

That Hick! He has no concept of a regular schedule. I never know for sure where he's at, or what he's doing, unless it's Saturday and Sunday, when he's at his SUS2.5 from 7:00 until he gets home at 5:00. Or DOES he? You can't depend on Hick to be home at a specific time. Making supper revolves around his arrival. He can't even give me an ETA when he's running late, although I've harped on suggested this many, many times.

With Daylight Savings Time now, I figure Hick might be staying later, to squeeze every last possible dollar out of a longer sales day. Thus I have been starting to town later. Especially when I will have groceries for Hick to carry in, hoping he'll be home when I get back. Sunday, I didn't leave home until 4:15. I figured I would get back around 5:30, and Hick would be there, or on his way. But no! He decided to come home early on this sunny 70-degree day.

I got a text on my way to town: "I'm on my way. Gotta come home and mow grass."

Let the record show that Hick is obsessed with mowing grass. Here. The yards in town he sometimes lets go a few days past when I think they should be cut. But here, Hick spends hours on his zero-turn mower, on the front yard/field and the BARn field. Oh, well. At least I knew I'd have somebody to carry in my groceries when I got back. And that I'd have to wait supper until Hick was ready to come in.

He was up by the trash dumpster and address sign when I came home. Hick hauled in two boxes of groceries, and said he was going back out to finish mowing. I put those groceries away. Saw the eggs I had left sitting on the counter. And went to the door to throw them out. Jack and Pepper were there, expecting another treat, but I told them they'd have to go to the back yard for that! 

Rather than walking across the porch with little Pepper jumping up and getting under my feet, I lobbed those eggs over the rail from the doorway. I was using my left hand because of the angle of the door. The four eggs didn't make it all the way to the tree line. They landed in the back yard. Three bounced and rolled, and one broke. I suspected the dogs would find them later and eat them. My given-away Australian Shepherd dog Scarlett would have been handed them on the porch. She liked eggs, and always cleaned up her mess. I wasn't sure about Jack and Pepper, with their smaller mouths.

Anyhoo... a few minutes later, I was surprised to hear Hick on his mower rounding POOLIO from the other end of the yard. I had no idea he was going to mow the back yard then. Sometimes he saves it for the next day. I really didn't think the yard needed mowing just yet. He'd just done it last week. You could hardly tell a difference out front of the section he had already mowed when I got home.

The eggs did not seem to deter Hick. He made no mention of them when he came in. I know he could see them. Yet he didn't stop to toss them on into the woods, like he'll stop to pick up sticks or stuff the dogs have dragged in. At least Jack and Pepper didn't have to bite into their snack of chopped raw eggs.

Memory, Don't Fail Me Now

I started into the Liquor Store on Saturday evening, to get some scratchers. The parking lot was full when I pulled in, but I found a place up next to the building, and waited. Several of the people I saw go in came back out. I figured the others were playing the fake slot machines, so there wouldn't be much of a line at the counter.

As I neared the door, I saw a gal leaning against the front of the building, smoking. I didn't know if she was waiting on a customer to come out, or if she worked there. I hadn't seen her before. But I know the cashiers at the Gas Station Chicken Store often pop out for a quick smoke when there's a lull in business.

"What's your name?"

I was taken aback. Why would some random gal ask for my name? She was around 30, wearing jeans and an orange sweatshirt over a white t-shirt. She was well-groomed. Her auburn hair pulled back, and a tiny bit of makeup causing her blue blue eyes to pop. She asked again as I was deciding whether to answer. It's the old teacher in me. My attitude of why do you need to know?

"Thevictorian. Val Thevictorian."

"Are you kidding me? I can't believe it! You were my teacher! You were SO GOOD! You really made a difference in my life. Do you remember me?"

"Uh. Well... you look familiar. But I'm not getting a name. I had so many students, you know. Was it in the old building? Or the new building? Was it middle school? Or the high school?"

"Now I can't remember which school district it was."

"It had to be Basementia. Or Newmentia. That's the only school I worked at around this area."

"I don't know. My name is [REDACTED]."

"Sorry... I'm still not getting anything. I feel so bad!"

"You and Mrs. Roast were the two best teachers ever!"

"Oh. Then it was at Basementia."

"What did you teach?"

"Over there, I taught the At-Risk classes at the middle school for half a day. And health at the high school the other half."

"I just remember how much it meant to me to have you for a teacher. You guys didn't know it then, but I was going through a hard time. Then our house burned down, and the school took up a collection to help us out."

[I DID remember that. I donated $100 for that family. But I still didn't remember her name.]

"Yes, I remember. That was so sad."

"It got even worse. Do you remember reading about the family that was abusing their kids? That was us. We all got split up and put in different foster homes... Come on in, Sweetie."

She held the door open for me, and we went in to do my scratcher business. Meanwhile, she continued talking while fetching my tickets.

"It was terrible. We got moved all around. I haven't seen my brothers in over 20 years. I'm 32 years old now. I don't even know where they are. But I'm here. I'm married. I survived. They did stuff to us kids that mother nature wouldn't do to a squirrel. But I'm okay. How about you?"

"I'm doing pretty good. I need a knew knee, but otherwise I can't complain."

"How about Mrs. Roast? Is she still alive?"

"I would imagine so. I haven't talked to her since I retired. She was really great."

"Yes. The two of you got me through. I just wanted you to know that."

"I'm glad I helped. I wish I could have done more. You seem to be doing pretty good now." [I wanted to tell her how amazingly pretty she was. How she had a kind of glow. But that would have been weird.]

"Oh, you'd be surprised, Honey. Looks can be deceiving. I hope you win on your tickets. And that you come back so we can talk again."

"I'm in here every week or so. I hope I see you again, too."

While we had been chatting, each of us pausing a couple times to keep tears from overflowing, a woman had come in to stand in line. She said, "You are the fourth conversation I've heard just TODAY about how foster care had saved somebody."

"Oh, Sweetie, they didn't save me. Far from it. But I'm doing okay."

Anyhoo... on the drive home, I felt so bad for not remembering this student. Even once she told me her name! She had to have been around the time we moved into the new high school building, and swapped the old middle school for the old high school. That's when I got a classroom in the basement, next to Mrs. Roast (her secret nickname because she declared she would "roast my own rumpus before I'll let these kids use calculators for middle school math!"). I had recently been asked to start the At-Risk program, after years of teaching science.

By the time I got home, I had a vague memory. I'm pretty sure she was in a group of 6th graders I had for extra help in Math and English. She was an average kid, not a troublemaker. One who could fall through the cracks without a little extra encouragement.

Anyhoo... if I see Student again, I'm going to ask about a couple people I think were in her class. That should verify my new memory of her.

We do the best we can, you know, to help each child succeed. The stars and troublemakers are the ones who pop up in a teacher's memory first. It's the other ones we affect most. Please realize, a student has a handful of teachers to remember. We have up to 180 kids a day, year after year after year.

These Onions Could Bring a Lesser Val to Tears

Let the buyer beware! Val is not a gal to be bamboozled by the schadenfreude of grocery store managers. It's usually not a problem at 10Box, though I have found questionable USE BY dates on the shelves. They generally pull the expired stock, and put them in a cart up front for half price. The prospective buyers know exactly what they're getting.

Save A Lot has a problem with their produce sometimes being less-than-fresh. Namely the bananas, which alternate between brown and woody green. And the onions, which even having a fan blowing across the shelf, are sometimes getting mushy. I DO swear by their meat, which is generally the best around here. 

You have to be careful in Save A Lot. Despite their name, you might end up paying more than elsewhere. They didn't used to be like that, until 10Box opened up a couple blocks away. The six-packs of Diet Mountain Dew were $5.99 in Save A Lot yesterday! Compared to $4.68 in 10Box (plus 10% up front, making them $5.15). At Country Mart, they were $5.49, ON SALE. 

Which brings us to Country Mart, on Errand Day. I've been getting supplies for Easter dinner. I saw in the sale ad that Country Mart had 2 lb bags of yellow onions for $2.99. I'll be using onions in my roasted veggies, and in potato salad, so I planned to get a couple bags. 

The Pony trotted off to see if there were any bargains on steak like last time. I went to the bins of onions. I saw the sign advertising the 2 lb bags of yellow onions for $2.99. But in the bins were 3 lb bags of SWEET onions. Which are Vidalia onions, just not grown in the right geographic area to be labeled as Vidalia. Huh. Not fooling ol' Val. I went around to the other side of the table, and again saw a sign for the sale on 2 lb yellow onions. But in this bin were 3 lb bags of yellow onions. Which cost $5.98, same as the sweet onions.

When The Pony returned without a steak bargain, I pointed out the discrepancy. We both looked, and moved bags around.

"There you are, " said Pony, holding up some 3 lb bags out of the way, and nodding. 

Lying at the bottom of the bin were three bags of 2 lb yellow onions. I took two of them. You really have to be aware at Country Mart. They are masters of the bait-and-switch. I've seen it in many departments, not just the produce. Like when there's a two-for-one sale on bottled salad dressing. The brands not on sale are by the labels, but you have to make sure you read the brand on sale, and get those. 

The prices at Country Mart are the highest around. They get away with it because they are right in the middle of town. They have a lot of elderly shoppers. And a deli. People stop by because it's more convenient than going to Walmart. It has a bigger variety of brands than that town's Save A Lot. I always have a list of what I'm getting there, because I know I can find stuff cheaper at the other stores.

This phenomena of sale price labels by not-sale merchandise happens so often there, I'm pretty sure it's not a coincidence or accident. I think they buried those sale onions!

Inside Lap House

The tour of Lap House won't take long. It's not that big. Just a living room, kitchen, two bedrooms, and a bathroom. I haven't seen the partial basement yet. That will have to wait until my official photographer can fit it into his schedule, heh, heh.

Living Room. The old guy who sold Hick this house had apparently been doing a little work on it. Looks like he ripped out carpeting, and painted some walls. I didn't ask if the wood floor is salvageable, but I imagine Hick has budgeted in his mind for laminate flooring.

Front Bedroom. It looks fairly decent, but might need new windows. That's me talking, from one photo, not Hick, who has walked through several times.

Kitchen. It seems cheery, with lots of light. Again, that might mean a lot of windows to replace. Pretty much everything in here has to go. EXCEPT... the countertop. Hick says it's the old granite kind of counter, and he'd like to try to save it. It's short, though. Just the part with the sinks.

Middle Bedroom. This might be the "problem" room. Due to its location, and awkward shape. Hick thinks it might be the only place to fit a washer and dryer. Not ideal, but I'd rather have a second bedroom, even if it meant having the laundry in there. Just like I'd rather have a washer and dryer in my house, as opposed to not having them. The other option would be the kitchen. I've had a washer and dryer in a bathroom before, but this bathroom is not big enough.

Bathroom. At first glance, it looks horrific. Upon closer inspection, the tile seems good. The floor looks interesting. The toilet is in decent shape. The tub is not pink, as I thought. Hick says it is kind of brown. He said it looks usable, which could save $1000 for a new one. He would paint it to match the toilet. I haven't seen the sink yet.

For handy reference, here's the outside view again.

Lap House isn't big enough to create new rooms. So there won't be a second bathroom. Hick DID note that there's room in the bathroom to put inside access to the basement. He said it looks like that's where it used to be, before somebody moved the entrance to the outside of the house.

There won't be much to see in the beginning. Hick plans to start with the electrical wiring. He will have to take off some siding, because some genius ran wires on the side of the house and covered them with siding! Then he will work on the plumbing. Not sure what's going on with that, other than there being several different kinds of pipe, from galvanized to PVC. 

I'm going to suggest that Hick work on the outside of Lap House while the weather is good. And save the interior for when the weather gets too hot or cold. Not that Hick is one to take my advice...

I'm a BeLIVER

My faith in Hick as a provider has been restored! Not only did he bring me a Reuben from the Senior Center lunch this month, but he also brought me LIVER! Yes. I asked for it. We both like liver. Hick also brought one home for himself for supper.

The menu listing for the day was:

Ham & Beans

Spinach & Breaded Tom

Cornbread

OR

Liver & Onions

Mashed Potatoes, Veg, Cornbread

Blueberry Pie OR Fruit

I thought Hick might have the Beans & Ham for lunch, and bring home the Liver. But no. He ate liver at lunch, and also brought a meal home for his supper. The two containers had Hick's name written on them. Which could be suspicious if you have enemies, but the cooks there LOVE Hick! I saw the first one, and asked if his name was on both. Yes, it was. But I'm sure you can still tell that one was meant for Hick specifically...

That was the container on top of the stack. Whether you like liver or not, you've gotta admit that's a good-looking serving of liver! We had mashed potatoes, and the Breaded Tom, along with a cornbread square.

Now let's take a look at MY dinner:

Where's all the liver love for Val??? I might have had a part of a sliver of onion. At least I got the corner cornbread. Which I sliced off and gave Hick the other 2/3 of it. I was at first repulsed by the tomatoes. I thought they had jalapenos in them, but Hick said it was zucchini. I actually ate those tomatoes. Not too bad. The mashed potatoes were again tasteless. In the future, I'll give them to Hick. The liver was delicious!

Hick said he was too full to eat his dinner that night. Well, no wonder! I can imagine how they must have piled his tray high with liver at lunch, him being their pet. Hick went on and on about how tender that liver was. He said the gal told him she soaked it in milk overnight.

Anyhoo... Hick wasn't too full for dessert. Shocking, I know.

A filling dessert it was, too! They sure didn't play favorites with the lemon meringue pie! It's almost as if they know that I always give my dessert to Hick. Hick says they don't bake the pies, they buy them from the deli of the local grocery store. This pie sure looks fabulous. I wish I had tried just a bite, but it's too late now.

Next time liver is on the menu, Hick should be bringing it home for our supper.

Introducing: Lap House

Yes. The photographer is of questionable talent. At taking photos. But he's a whiz at fixing up old houses. Hick was sitting in SilverRedO, parked across the street in front of an apartment building, when he took the front picture of Lap House for me. You may recall that Lap House is so named because the deal fell into Hick's lap when he was least expecting it.

Lap House has a generous yard. Out of sight on the left is an old brick church. A street runs by on the right side. There's a public sidewalk out front, but strangely, no sidewalk to the house. I image any residents would park in the back, off the alley, and use the back door.

Let's zoom in a bit, so you can see the actual house, and not a panoramic view of the neighborhood.

Lest you think the previous owner was a patriotic sort, let the record show that the school colors in this town are red, white, and blue. So the windows in the front door, and the railings by the back door, as well as the foundation, are likely those colors to support the team.

The roof has a few missing shingles from where the wind took them. Hick has not been in the attic yet. He says it's possible that the roof may need to be replaced, depending on what he finds there. Or it may just needs a patch. The tall vent pole on the front of the house will go away. Hick has already talked to his HVAC Guy, who says that there's a new way of doing the vent for the gas. Hick is planning to put in a new furnace and add central air, because the only cooling the house has now is a window unit. The vinyl siding is fine, it just looks wavy from the shadows, and my zoom-in on the original photo.

The front left window is the living room. The front right window is a bedroom. The kitchen is the part sticking out at the back with the back door. There's a single bathroom, behind that front bedroom. And behind it is a second bedroom. It's basically a 4-room house. I guess five if you count the bathroom. From the looks of them, the windows are old, and might need to be replaced. Hick hasn't mentioned that specifically yet.

Interior views will be coming soon.

One of Hick's Harem Has a Stay at the Crossbars Hilton

Hick brought our puppy Pepper home from his second vet visit on Monday. He's up to 13.6 pounds now. We didn't have time to discuss Pepper's shots and next visit(s) though, because Hick got a phone call. From one of his harem.

"I've told you before. I cain't help you with that. You all need to get along, or stay away from each other. If you think it's serious enough, then call the police."

This was around 3:00. According to Hick, the caller complained that the lady who drinks had spit on her, and she had three witnesses. The caller/spittee was NOT the same resident that the drinker had gotten into it with the last time the police were called. Hick called his boss later, who said, "We're not getting involved in that." Which is what Hick had told his harem.

Later that evening, Caller/Spittee told Hick that Spitter had been knocking on her door, and she wanted him to come do something. Hick said, "Well, she realizes she done somthin' wrong, and she's most likely tryin' to apologize. That's how she is. If you don't want to talk to her, don't talk to her."

Later, Caller/Spittee said she had gone to the police station (which is two blocks away), along with her witnesses, and they all had paperwork to file complaints against Spitter. Hick had replied, "Well, you have to do what you have to do."

At 9:30 the next morning, Hick got a text from Spitter that she was sitting in jail, and when was he going to talk to her about this incident. Hick said he had nothing to say to her about it. That was between her and the other elderlies. Spitter said she didn't want to lose her home. Hick said he wasn't planning to kick her out, but that she needed to calm down and get along with the other residents.

Hick and his boss agree that no matter if they evict 10 residents and get 10 new ones, there could just be 10 new problems. That there are always going to be disagreements between people, and it's not their business to get involved in that pettiness. If it's between residents, and not damage to the apartments, then it's up to law enforcement to handle the residents' complaints.

Of course when Hick went to lunch (LIVER AND ONIONS!), another gal sat right down to tell him all about what happened. Hick said she is always stirring the pot. Said a bunch of them were sitting out in the courtyard smoking, and Caller/Spittee and Spitter got into an argument. According to Spitter's story, she was sitting at a table all by herself, and Caller/Spittee came over to her, and Spitter spit on her. Which she knows is wrong.

Hick says Spitter picks up litter and straightens up stuff in the building. She is the nicest little lady you'd ever want to meet. Until she drinks. Then she's really mouthy and loud. Hick says Caller/Spittee is generally cranky and anti-social, and keeps to herself. These two live on different floors, at separate ends of the building, and there's no reason for them to even be in contact with each other, unless they run into each other picking up their mail. I have no idea what happened in the courtyard. 

My ex-teacher mind thinks that maybe Spitter had a snootful and mouthed off to some others, who were likely mob-bullying her in the subtle way of women, and Caller/Spittee took offense to Spitter's mouthing, and went to her table to share a piece of her mind. Spitter has limited mobility and uses a walker, and perhaps used spit as her defense/aggression mechanism. That's pure speculation, of course.

Anyhoo... the city police came Tuesday morning, and hauled Spitter down to the county jail, since they don't have their own lock-up anymore. Nobody knows how Spitter gained her freedom. Hick says that the city police would have been the ones to drive her back home, since charges were filed in their jurisdiction. Spitter told Hick she has a court date. 

I'm sure Hick will hear all about the eventual case...

Bargain House Demands

The last update on Bargain House was when we signed a contract on March 8. The Buyer scheduled an inspection the following week. So we've been in a holding pattern waiting to see how the inspection might affect the deal. 

Well. Hick thinks the Buyer's inspector was out of his mind. Let the record show that Bargain House had already been approved for occupancy by the CITY building inspector, with no issues.

Hick got an email from Realtor Guy early last week, with the Buyer's inspector's report attached. In no particular order that I recall, the issues listed included:

roof not safe to walk on

roof needs to be replaced

loose screws in roofing metal

gas vent on roof needs to be replaced

two vents of unknown origin on roof

windows need to be replaced

screens on windows need to be replaced

missing electrical plate in kitchen

bedroom door opens into kitchen door

bolts missing on supports for patio roof

sidewalk not level with yard

I told Hick, "Why don't you just tear it down and build the guy a whole new house?"

Hick called Realtor Guy, and said no way was he replacing the roof and windows. And that nobody wants a sidewalk level with the yard, because when it rains, you get mud and water pooling on the sidewalk. And any idiot should know that the vents on the roof are from the two bathrooms.

Realtor Guy stopped him and said, "Didn't you read the counter-offer?" Which Hick had not, because he only saw the one document. So Realtor Guy sent it again, after telling Hick that all the Buyer asked for was a new roof and new windows, but he was pretty sure the Buyer didn't EXPECT to get a new roof.

After looking at the actual counter-offer, and going over to inspect Bargain House roof for himself, Hick came up with a counter counter-offer. Realtor Guy wrote it up, but Hick explained it to me.

"I will tighten all the screws in the roof metal. I will paint the piece of metal where a tree rubbed on it, to match the rest of the roof. I'll sand the rust off the gas vent and paint it, but if it looks unsafe, I'll replace it. I DID forget to put the nuts on the screws holding the metal plate to the concrete for the patio roof supports, so I'll screw them on. Same with the electrical outlet plate I forgot in the kitchen cabinet above the microwave. There are four of the eight double-paned windows that need their vapor barrier fixed. I'll get that done. I will replace the two screens that are torn."

Hick got all that done in two days. Except the windows. His glass guy said he'll have to order parts, and it could take two weeks to get them. He also said that for an extra fee of $95, he will come to the house and fix the windows, so Hick doesn't have to remove them and drive them over to Bill-Paying Town for repairs.

Realtor Guy said it seemed reasonable, since Hick is doing extra things that were in the inspector's report, but which the Buyer didn't actually ask for. He "only" wanted a new roof and windows. Indeed, the Buyer agreed to those fixes. I don't think Realtor Guy has since mentioned that the windows might not be done in time for the closing. 

Hick told Realtor Guy that if the window repairs aren't done on time, he will pay for the windows and the on-site fee, and present a receipt to the Buyer at closing on April 6. So the window repair is guaranteed, and the Buyer won't have to do anything except let Hick's glass guy repair them at the house when the parts come in.

Hick says the window parts are supposed to be in Friday, and his glass guy will fix the windows next week. I guess we'll be headed for the closing with a signed receipt for the window work, in the event that these repairs are delayed.

Somebody Throw Hick, the Jokester, a Bone

I'm pretty sure Hick was born without a funny bone. I don't have x-ray evidence, but living with him over 37 years has provided me with plenty of the circumstantial variety. He doesn't find comedy funny. And I don't get his jokes.

Hick watches old reruns like The Andy Griffith Show. And MASH. He will sometimes chuckle. But any modern shows that I watch, Hick does not grasp the humor. "That's entertainment for morons!" Huh. Maybe it's just Hick's way of calling me a moron...

When HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) and The (Little Future) Veteran were elementary school age, Hick had a habit of grabbing them by the nape of the neck. Just to mess with them, when they were doing something else and didn't expect it. I little pinch which Hick held, saying, "What's that?" They'd hunch their shoulders in surprise, and say, "What?" Then Hick would say, "Turkey peekin' over a log!" And guffaw. Is it just me? I don't get it.

Now we come to Hick's latest. Remember how he fell at the Senior Center, and busted his lip on the floor? And I (almost) felt sorry for him? It swelled up a little bit. So Hick had a fat lip. It was quite dark purple in a spot the size of a dime on his lower right lip.

Hick came home from town Wednesday, saying people at the Senior Center, and some of his buddies, had been asking him what happened to his lip.

"I told 'em that I thought you said 'Shut up,' but what you really said was 'Stand up!' They all thought that was really funny."

"What? That's not funny. I don't get it."

"They thought you hit me!"

"I get the part about you pretending I hit you, rather than you falling down all by yourself when I was miles away. I don't even mind you making it about me being an abuser, instead of your own clumsiness. But what you're saying is not funny. It doesn't make sense. If you'd just said, 'Oh, I made my wife mad,' THAT might have been kind of funny."

"It's the same thing, Val. Everybody laughed."

So did the gal at the title office when Hick told his same "joke" at the closing for Lap House. I'm pretty sure she was just being polite.

Val's Lyin' Eyes

I might need new glasses. Or maybe just to wear my glasses while driving. Or maybe to stop casually chatting with The Pony while I'm driving.

We were headed home on Errand Day. Stopped at the 4-way stop sign with Subway on our right, Hick's apartments and the Senior Center across from it, a municipal parking lot on our left, and the old Roseland Theater across from it.

That movie theater is where I had my best viewing experience ever, while in high school, watching "Carrie," and the audience almost having a collective heart attack at the ending when Sue Snell was in Carrie's yard laying flowers. It's where we took little Genius to see his first movie, "Mouse Hunt," and had to leave in the middle because he would not stop talking out loud.

This theater has undergone several phases. It was turned into a two-plex. It stopped being a move theater. For a while it was some kind of church. And now it seems to host assorted events.

I was driving, you know. Stopped at the intersection. Watching the other three cars to make sure I took my proper turn. I glanced at the marquis of the theater.

"Huh. How can they put that up there? The 'Mexican Awards.'"

Let the record show that Sis-Town has Mexican residents. Some work at the local greenhouse. Some work at a produce company, loading and unloading trucks to distribute vegetables. When I lived in my $17,000 house, I would see them walking to work, carrying their lunch in Walmart bags. So it's not a stretch that I might think some entity was hosting a night of "Mexican Awards." Though these days, you'd think they could come up with a better title.

"Mom. I can't believe you said that! It says: 'Magician. D.J. Edwards.'"

Oh. Well. Nevermind...

The Deal is Done: Another Flip House, Coming Soon

The(flippin')Victorians bought another house on Thursday. The one I shall call Lap House, because it fell into Hick's lap without any search or real estate listing or sign in the yard. It was a call with an offer to sell, from an old guy referred to Hick by the old guy we bought the Double Hovel from.

In true Hick photography faux pas fashion, the picture is from the BACK of the house! 

Lap House is on The Pony's street. Three doors down. It's a nice wide street. This is a corner lot with a decent size back yard. That's the entrance to the partial basement. Much better than a crawlspace for flippers, because it's easy access for plumbing and electric and ductwork.

Across the street is an apartment building. It used to be an elementary school, which is pretty obvious to me from the windows. Next to Lap house is an old church. I don't think there is any activity there these days. I never see any cars or people. Whoever eventually buys Lap House will have better-than-average privacy, with a street on one side, an abandoned church on the other side, an alley in the back, and apartments across the street. I don't expect those residents will be hanging out in front, or complaining about goings-on.

More pictures as they become available.

Next Thing You Know, Hick Will be Blamed for the Downfall of Civilization

Here we go again. It's all Hick's fault...

Of course I am allowed to blame Hick for anything I see fit. That's my privilege. It's a perk that comes with putting up with him for the past 35-and-a-half years. Nobody else gets that privilege. Especially the fire chief over in Sis-Town!

Hick's boss brought a note to show him on Tuesday. It was the day after the inspection of the kitchen at the Senior Center, for which Hick had provided a cover for the four-foot fluorescent light. The note had nothing to do with the kitchen. It passed inspection just fine. 

The note was about the senior apartments. It had been given to the city manager, and the mayor. The mayor gave it to Hick's boss. Let the record show that there was no reason for the fire chief to go into the apartment section of the building. It's not necessary to leave the kitchen. It was not having an inspection.

Among the items in the note was: "I stepped out into the apartment building, and noticed what appeared to be a slight haze. It seemed to be coming from Apartment 2. For the safety of the residents, the apartment manager needs to make sure the residents are not smoking."

Of course Hick took issue with this. 

"So the fire chief was worried about the safety of the residents, but left the building with smoke coming out of an apartment? What kind of fire chief does that, without checking it out himself? What are we supposed to do? Be here 24 hours a day and sit in the hall waiting to see if somebody smokes? They KNOW it's against the rules. I'm tire of this nitpicking. I don't need this job!"

Hick's boss said he didn't, either. And that he was going to talk to the mayor and take care of it. Along with the other issues in the note. Like a bicycle and a plant in the way of making an emergence exit, and trash in the trash room.

Hick says one of the residents parks his bicycle in the entry area, but it's back away from the stairs, and not in front of the door. And that there's a plant, but it's also not in the path to the exit, nor on the stairs. As for the trash, it's supposed to be dumped every day by the lady who cleans. And Hick and Old Buddy sometimes dump it in the morning, if there's trash in it when they arrive.

"What are we supposed to do about the trash? Sit around and listen for when somebody drops a bag in, and take it out right then, and wait for the next one to drop?"

His boss said no, of course not. It's the trash room. That's why the building was made with a trash chute. It's getting taken out regularly, not accumulating.

I told Hick: "This guy is out to get you because he knows that you're onto him for not doing HIS job right!"

"That's probably got something to do with it."

Sounds like somebody has an ax to grind, and he'd better not be leaving the shavings in Hick's apartment building!

Surprise Reuben!

I knew that Reuben Day at the Senior Center was Tuesday, St. Patrick's Day. I made sure that Hick knew, too! He agreed to bring home Reubens for our supper. The menu said it would be:

Reuben

Colcannon (Irish Potatoes)

Honey Glazed Carrots

Pistachio Cake OR Fruit

I was a bit disappointed to see that there was no SLAW on the menu. Then again, when the menu DID list slaw, we didn't get it, because they substituted beets. I was curious to see what would actually be in our takeout containers.

The broccoli was a welcome surprise. I don't like glazed carrots. The colcannon looked okay. Like basic mashed potatoes. Maybe with bacon particles. I tried a bite, but they tasted like watery mashed potatoes with maybe some bacon and broccoli stems. No thank you. Hick can have mine.

Here's the thing: Hick brought home an extra Reuben! 

"One of them old ladies didn't want her sandwich, so they put it in a container for me."

That works out great. I only have half a Reuben, then the other half the next night. So Hick ate just the sandwich Tuesday evening, because he was still full from the meal at lunch. Wednesday night, I'll have my other half-Reuben, and Hick can have the second meal. Plus my colcannon. Of course, he will be eating another full meal for lunch, Wednesday's being:

Meatloaf

Mashed Potatoes

Green Beans

Roll

Peach Pie OR Fruit

Heh, heh! Hick LOVES meatloaf. I hope he's not getting leftover colcannon for the mashed potatoes, because he'll also be having a double serving for supper.

Anyhoo... the dessert looked okay:

I don't know if it was actually Pistachio Cake from the menu. Hick just said he had "green cake." I didn't try it, because I always give my desserts to Hick. Those little decoration things are a deal-breaker for me. Or should I say "tooth-breaker?" I don't like them on my cake, no matter what the flavor or color. Can you tell which piece they intended for Hick?

The Reuben was really good. The broccoli was okay. I'm trying to get Hick to bring me lunch next Tuesday... The menu calls for:

Ham & Beans

Spinach & Breaded Tom.

Cornbread

OR

Liver & Onions

Mashed Potatoes

Veg

Cornbread

Blueberry Pie OR Fruit

I would like to try their liver and onions. I like liver. Not sure what they can do to it. I for sure don't want spinach, or "breaded tom." (Which I hope is breaded tomATOES, but then again not, because they sound horrible. Though breaded TOM would be much worse!)

We'll see if Hick is too busy to bring me TWO meals in one month!