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.