Oh. No.

Here it is, Saturday morning as I sit typing, and still no word on when we will be signing papers to own Cheap House. Or, you know, just showing up with a personal check and no obligation to sign anything, according to Hick's original perception. That's the thing with Hick. His proclamations and declarations and assessment of a situation always CHANGE.

After being so sure we would close on Thursday or Friday, after his conversation Wednesday with Loan Officer... Hick recanted Thursday night. 

"Loan Officer said it should be at the end of this week, or early next week."

"You said it would be Thursday or Friday!"

"Well, that's when the gal said she'd send the papers. So I thought it would be then. But Loan Officer DID say later this week, or early next week."

"You'll need to have time to get a cashier's check."

"I ain't worried about a cashier's check. I can just walk across the street and get one from the main bank."

Right now I'm guessing that the closing won't be on Monday. I doubt the Savings & Loan assumes every client will just walk across the street for a cashier's check. I imagine they notify them to allow time for such things.

Besides, I have something more serious to worry about. Also sprung on me Thursday night.

"This new house has a really weird floor plan. The living room is in front, with a bedroom. And you walk down a hall to the kitchen in the back. Off the kitchen is what has to be the other bedroom. But it has a door to the outside! Nobody wants a door to the outside in their bedroom!" [Let the record show that our own home, built by Hick, has a set of French doors that exit onto the back of our wraparound porch.] 

I was thinkin', I could make it just like the other one. The hall is plenty wide. I could make both front rooms the bedrooms. Fit in another bathroom. The hall leads to the kitchen, and the living room would be off the kitchen, with that door to the outside. So you'd have a back entrance right into the living room."

"WAIT a minute! Isn't that something for the next flipper to decide? I thought we were only fixing up the structure, and selling it quick, as a flip. You already have that other house to work on."

"I'm just sayin', Val, that Loan Officer said this house would sell at $130,000 to $145,00 if it was all fixed up."

"You don't need two flips at once!"

Hick wisely shut down his campaign to keep Cheap House. I said we would get the basics done, then list it for 2-3 months. If we didn't get any offers, THEN we could consider finishing it. The Pony is on my side this time.

Meanwhile, Hick's roof guy is meeting him at 5:00 tonight to give an estimate on a new roof for Cheap House.

The Continuing Quest to Legally Purchase Cheap House

It's been two weeks since Hick was the only prospective buyer to show up at the courthouse steps foreclosure auction of Cheap House. Not a single signature has been put to paper. We THINK we're buying this house for $15,500, per verbal agreements and the previous paperwork.

Meanwhile, Hick has forged ahead. Bought padlocks, bought lumber and boarded up broken windows, turned on the electricity. He paid HOS-and-buddy $500 for the completed cleanout of junk. Rented a $650 industrial dumpster. Paid $634.55 for six months of insurance. Paid $150 for trimming a tree that rubbed on the roof. HOS-and-buddy are now tearing out ceilings and walls. I haven't heard their price for that.

WE HAD BETTER OWN THIS HOUSE!

Hick keeps telling me it's a done deal. He went by the Savings & Loan on Wednesday. Loan Officer called the title company. "She" said they were getting the papers ready, and should have them Thursday or Friday, and would send them over. It is Thursday afternoon as I type this. Still no word. Hick thinks the closing will be at the Savings & Loan, which is fine with me. I just want a closing! CLOSURE, if you will!

Meanwhile, Hick has been puttering around, checking on the progress of HOS-and-buddy, and deciding what he wants to do with Cheap House. One thing for sure is to tear off the back porch, which was converted into a bedroom.

"I was looking around on the porch, and I found a billfold! It has three different social security cards, and two different driver's licenses. They was all for a woman. I took it over to the police station. The gal there went and got an officer, who was also a gal. She looked through it, and then said, 'So? What do you want me to do with it?' 

I thought that was a stupid question. It wasn't mine. I didn't want that in my possession. I wanted to point out that it was in a house where a convicted methamphetamine manufacturer had lived! You'd think they might want to know that. Or see if any of those identities were connected to crimes."

I guess it's a wonder that guy got caught at all!

Measurements, the Unspoken, and Porter Wagoner

Val is no Biblical Samson. Her strength comes from within, not from her long flowing locks. Which are excessively long, not having been trimmed since before her Unfortunate HospitVALzation back in 2022. That's a long time!!! Normal hair grows about 1/2 inch per month. That would give Val 24 extra inches of hair! Thankfully, Val does not have normal hair. It's limp and seemingly lifeless, and grows slower. That said, my hair was down between my shoulder blades. A supermullet of epic proportion!

It's not that I didn't WANT to get my hair cut. It was just inconvenient. You may recall that my salon of choice was Terrible Cuts. The chain. My location was in a mini-mall, with Little Caesar's Pizza on the other end, and a Payday Loan business in between. I was fine with that. I'd gone there for years, even taking the boys when they were young.

Then I got sick, and wasn't feeling up to an outing for a haircut. Then my knees were really hurty, and I didn't like to think about walking up the hill from parking to get inside Terrible Cuts. Nor trying to bend my right knee to perch my foot on the footrest of the lifty chair. THEN there was a fire!!! In Little Caesar's. Which swept through the ceilings (FIREWALLS, anybody?) and ruined all three businesses. The renovations have just begun over the past couple months. I have no idea if the same businesses will even return. So Val has been a woman without a salon. I made do by trimming my own bangs. And occasionally having The Pony or Hick cut off the ends so they stayed out of my collar.

For the past year, at least, and likely more... my "stylists" have been reluctant to pick up the scissors. The Pony did a fine job the first time, but seems to have lost interest in coiffing me. Hick always has something else to do. I'd better not find out he's been cutting Harem hair!

I could stand it no longer. On Sunday evening, I TOLD Hick he was cutting my hair. I put on an old collar-less shirt and grabbed the scissors and a comb. I wet my hair at the kitchen sink, and took Hick out on the back porch. 

"Just do it like last time. Comb it straight down. I want it at shoulder level. Here. Start at this side. Then work your way around to to the other side."

What could possibly go wrong? Most people know what a shoulder is. They can run a comb down through a section of hair. Cut along the bottom, at the shoulder. Then continue combing down swatches of hair, cutting them off even with the first section. RIGHT????

It started out all right. Though I questioned Hick if that was my shoulder. He said it was. My first panic occurred at the back of my head.

"WAIT! Why do I feel the scissors at the base of my skull? STOP! Why are you up that high?"

"I'm not, Val. I'm just cutting." SNIP SNIP.

My second panic was when Hick got to the end, the other front side. He didn't even want me to turn around!

"What do you mean? You HAVE to look me in the face. To make sure both sides are even!"

"No I don't. It's even." I forced him to look me in the face. "Well. This side might need a little more..."

I felt where Hick had cut. My hair was GONE! My shoulders won't be reintroduced to that hair for at least three months! Maybe four! How can a man not know what a shoulder is? Does he think it's a void midway between ear and collar bone?

Of course all Hick the Gaslighter had to say was: "I think it looks cute."

When I picked up The Pony on Monday, to come out for our BBQ, I had to ask.

"Aren't you going to say anything about my haircut?"

"Oh. Well..."

"I suppose your hesitation says all I need to hear."

"No. It's... shorter." 

"I KNOW! Your dad can't do one simple thing! I know you're not old enough to remember, but Dad has made me look like PORTER WAGONER! I have that CD of Porter and Dolly's 20 greatest hits. Maybe you remember the cover."

"Uh. Kind of."

"Yeah. That's what I thought. I have Porter Wagoner's haircut. Only shorter."

I find it kind of odd that not one person has mentioned my haircut. When usually that's the first thing they say. Like the clerks I see regularly at the Gas Station Chicken Store, or in 10Box. I guess they're not Porter Wagoner fans.

Unexpected, Probably Doomed, But FREE

In Saturday's box of chocolates, life gave me a rooster. I didn't ask for a rooster. I didn't want a rooster. But Hick brought one home.

"Look what I traded for today im bringing him home"

In typical Hick fashion, the story changed by the time he got home. I never found out what he traded, because the tale changed to the rooster being FREE.

"Last weekend, a guy was down at the flea market with a rooster he was trying to get rid of. I told him the lady who lives next to the flea market has chickens. That he could just let it go. So he did. The lady with the chickens didn't want him--"

"I guess not! I'm sure she has her own rooster!"

"Anyway, she kept runnin' him off. So he came back to the flea market, and was hanging out there all week."

"He's probably starving!"

"No. He was free-rangin'. But today, Old Buddy was feeding him potato chips. I figured I'd just bring the poor guy home with me."

"How is THAT going to work? The dogs or something wild will kill him!"

"I thought they'd just sniff at him. But they chased him all around the yard! It took me about an hour to catch him! He's over in the old chicken pen now."

"He'll fly out!"

"No. He's had his wings clipped. I didn't know that, until he tried to fly and get away from the dogs."

"Oh, no! He can't even roost in a tree! Something's going to eat him for sure!"

"You don't know that."

"What do you plan to feed him?"

"He's free-rangin' for now. Down in the back of the old goat pen."

"I feel really bad for him. There's no way for him to survive here! He was probably better off at the flea market! Somebody might have picked him up and taken him home for a pet."

"Or he mighta got in the road and got run over. That won't happen here."

I don't know. I hope this rooster can survive. The odds are not good. We used to have 33 chickens. Before the neighbor's dogs found out. I'm sure those dogs are gone now. But our dogs haven't been raised with chickens. They'll let the squirrels run rampant, and the birds eat out of their food pan. But this rooster is a new challenge.

_____________________________________________________________

On Sunday morning, Hick went over to the pen to look for the rooster.

"I don't see him. He might be down in the woods."

"Or EATEN! By something else in the woods. Can he get in the chicken house?"

"Yeah. He can get in there. But he ain't there."

Sunday evening, Hick walked over to look for the rooster again. Nothing.

"I don't know where he is. He can get out, over behind the BARn. Jack could probably get in under the fence there, but I don't think Pepper knows about it. Maybe he's just living down in the woods to avoid the dogs, since he knows they'll go after him."

Well. Hick IS an optimist...

Five minutes later, Hick was in his recliner, watching TV. I was at the kitchen table innernetting. I heard the dogs barking in the front yard. Kind of frantic, not in their usual play mode. Then they came around to the back porch, tussling and worrying each other and yipping, as they are wont to do.

"I think that might be him in the front yard! I just saw something run across!"

Hick got up and looked out the door. Yes. It was his rooster. Maybe the dogs are not out to kill, just have a little fun with him, since they gave up and came back on the porch. I suppose the rooster heard Hick over there looking around for him, and came back to where Hick let him loose when they got home.

I hope this rooster can survive. He might even get a name.

_____________________________________________________________

The Newest Albatross in Hick's Flock

You may recall that Hick decreed we buy an old truck as part of the deal for Lap House. It was not running, sitting in the driveway, and Hick said Some Guy wouldn't sell us the house unless we bought the truck as well.

Hick's plan was to give (sell by working out the cost) the truck to Old Buddy, who said he wanted it. After a couple months of sitting in Old Buddy's driveway, Hick figured Old Buddy wasn't fixing it up as he had planned. Old Buddy said he couldn't find some parts. The next day, Hick was cleaning out Lap House, and found those parts. 

Anyhoo... Hick took back the truck, and signed the title back into his name rather than Old Buddy's. Supposedly Hick wasn't going to start charging Old Buddy half his labor to purchase the truck until he had it running. So there was really no incentive for Old Buddy to get to work on that truck. I agreed with Hick taking it back. I told him not to put MY name on the title, heh, heh. He still hasn't gotten the spelling of my name changed on his trailer title. I'm pretty sure he has not yet gotten insurance on that trailer, either!

Anyhoo... Hick never told me what he was going to do with the $2000 truck. Still hasn't. But it appeared without warning on Wednesday afternoon, between the time I left for my leg therapy and the time I returned. It was parked in front of the BARn. I thought somebody was stealing all of Hick's treasures! I had to call and see if he was expecting somebody over there for hunting or junking or burning stuff from out of Lap House. Nope. Hick had just brought home the $2000 truck.

It's a Ford F150. Has a few dents, but is not at all as bad-looking as I expected. Of course, it doesn't run. So there's that. But it has a nice matching camper shell. The tires look drivable. I'm sure Hick will get right on repairing it, in all his spare time. 

Maybe I should reach out to Hick's Harem, and have them ask Hick to take them for a ride in his "new" truck.

Hick's FREE Magnet is Fully Charged

Hick and HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) were up to shenanigans on Thursday afternoon. Hick was supposed to be home around 4:30, to carry in groceries I was getting for our Monday cookout. In typical Hick fashion, he stood me up! I got a text at 4:20...

"I'll be right back had to help HOS do something have stuff in car and ill get it"

Here's the translation: Hick was doing some errand with HOS, and was running late. He told me to leave the groceries in T-Hoe and he would carry them in when he got home. Sounds easy enough, but I didn't think the frozen groceries would benefit from the wait. So I carried them in, and left the shelf stuff for Hick.

Meanwhile, Hick was off getting something for FREE.

"I took a picture. I know how your people like to see stuff I get for free."

That's a camper shell sitting on Hick's new(est) used trailer. I can't figure out the whole scenario. It's quite possible that THIS is the something that Hick needed to help HOS with. In his evasive way, Hick provided spotty information. I will need to hone my interrogation techniques.

"I was dropping HOS off at his house, and he said there was this camper just down the road. I was gonna go get it, but I figured it would be easier if HOS was with me. So we went and loaded it on my trailer."

I am suspicious. Because when I got the initial text, I called Hick, and his statements led me to believe that he was currently at home, but with HOS, and driving him back. So I'm not sure if Hick picked him up first and they came to get the trailer, or what. It would be odd if Hick was driving around town with his trailer. UNLESS that's the day they were mowing assorted flip yards, and had to unload the mower. Which Hick can usually do by himself. See? This story is full of holes!

Anyhoo... Hick has a new used FREE camper shell. Which he has no use for. Already having a camper shell that came off The Pony's first truck, which Hick has put on an old wooden trailer which is an atrocity, but capable of hauling stuff. I doubt he would use it on SilverRedO, even if it would fit.

Nor can Hick use this camper shell on the new old $2000 truck which he made us buy from the seller of Lap House. That story tomorrow...

Hick Makes His Pick

The Hickcision has been reached. Hick picked his cleanout crew for Cheap House.

"I'm gonna give it to HOS (Guy 2). I think him and his buddy will get it done on time, because there's two of them. They said they'd do it for $500. 

Guy 1 told me $600, but he said he could do it for $500. I'm just worried he won't get done on time. He's been trimming a tree for one of my Senior Center gals, and he still ain't done. I'm the one who recommended him for her. So if that ain't done, he don't need to be startin' somethin' else. I told him our deal is still on, though, to trim a tree at Cheap House.

Guy 3 might not be able to do it by himself. It will be hard moving some of the furniture and appliances alone. He never got back to me with his estimate. So I'm going with HOS." [Turns out Guy 3 just bought two storage units, and is too busy sorting through his new junk, so not available.]

Maybe there's a little Hickpotism going on in this selection. I can imagine the other Guys grousing about Hick giving the job to his son.

Anyhoo... not a paper has been signed to transfer ownership of Cheap House to us, but Hick has already rented the dumpster ($650), scheduled to arrive on Tuesday. And HOS and Buddy were in Cheap House on Friday, pre-junking.

"They wanted to get a head start. So I let them in, and they were breaking up the couches and getting stuff ready to carry out when the dumpster gets there."

"I really hope that house is OURS! You're putting a lot of money into it, and we don't own it any more than when you first looked at it last October!"

"It's ours, Val. The Savings & Loan cain't wait to get rid of it. To get it off their books. The gal told me she's gettin' the paperwork ready. They have to do the Deed of Trust and all that. She said she was gettin' stuff ready so we only have to make one trip to sign."

Uh huh. From the man who just told me a few days ago, "I don't think we'll have to sign anything." I wish Hick was this enthusiastic about Lap House. The one we're actually renovating. Sometime...

Crewcisions, Crewcisions

Hick has been taking bids for the cleanout of Cheap House. As you might imagine, this weighs heavily on Hick's head, because he knows a guy... Hick has guys who do odd work for him. Guys he does favors for, to help them out. Now he must choose among them! 

Guy 1 has been allowed to come out and sort through Hick's junk to sell for scrap. He's one I saw parked in the BARn field, and roaming along Shackytown Boulevard, and called from the front porch, "Hey, what's going on?" He swore Hick had invited him out here. Yet couldn't reach Hick on the phone to prove it. I let him go (heh, heh, as if I could have stopped him), and eventually Hick sent me a text that yes, Guy 1 had such permission. Guy 1 has also been on top of our metal roof, cleaning out gutters, and patching a leak. A risky task, with Hick only holding the ladder, for a paltry sum of $100.

Guy 2 is HOS (Hick's Oldest Son). He has been working some weekends at the annex of Hick's SUS2.5, selling items from that locker for a 40% cut.

Guy 3 is an older man. Hick knows him from the storage lockers. He hasn't done any work for Hick, but is always asking Hick if he has any work available.

Hick asked all the Guys for an estimate. He emphasized that he was renting an industrial dumpster for one week. If the job wasn't completed by the end of that week, Hick would deduct $25 per day from the agreed-upon price of the cleanout. That's the fee the company charges for overdue dumpsters. The Guys can have anything from the contents they want, to keep or sell for scrap.

Hick is now choosing his favorite considering his options.

"I'm not sure. Guy 1 has done jobs for me before. The thing is, he don't always finish them. HOS (Guy 2) has a buddy to help, which would be easier and faster than a single guy. But he ain't the most dependable. Guy 3 always finishes what he starts. But he'd be working alone, and he's older.

The decision is on the horizon...

Hick Has Already Met a Neighbor at Cheap House

Around 12:30 on Wednesday, I got a text from Hick:

"Look what are neighbors has here at Cheap House"

"Dang! They let it run free?"

"He had two of them outside"

"Showing off!"

Here's a close-up, but it's not very clear. I don't know my snakes, but I think it's one of those big yellow/white pythons.

I can't say I'm surprised that the neighbor of a convicted meth-maker is a snake. Or two. Hick said this guy is really nice, and was happy to see someone working on the house.

Hick Knew What We Were Getting

I believe the lack of bidders for the foreclosed Cheap House was due to fear of the unknown. It's not like they could schedule a tour to look inside. Anybody interested most likely took a peek through the bathroom window. I think the other windows were boarded up, or had shades.

Hick was lucky because he drove to see the location as soon as Loan Officer told him they were considering foreclosure, way back in October. The owner's sister was there to lock up the house, having come to check out its status when she took over his affairs. She invited Hick inside, and he made a handshake deal to buy the house for what was owed, plus a side deal for tools in the shed out back. 

Hick will never buy a house without seeing inside. In fact, he has been scolded by The Pony for just WALKING IN when a property is unlocked. Hick wants to get an idea of what renovations will cost.

Anyhoo... Cheap House is a 2-bedroom, 1-bath house, which has a room added on at the back porch which needs to be destroyed.

Are you ready? Grasp your smelling salts, or take a swig of an adult beverage...

This is the living room, at the front of the house as you enter:

Look, more artwork for Hick! Unless the demolishers take it.

There's a bedroom to the right of the living room, but Hick says it was being used as a living room also:

No need to worry about the moldy wall or the hole in the ceiling, as all that stuff will be torn out, down to the 2 x 4 framing.

The other bedroom is at the back left of the house:

You know it's a bedroom, because there's a mattress! I bet that guy kept rolling out of bed, heh, heh! And looks like he didn't put up his Christmas tree.

The kitchen looks roomy enough:

I'm pretty sure all those cabinets are getting ripped out. Hick says the hole in the floor is just to the right, out of the picture. I am horrified to see that cute shiny backsplash that Hick put in the pretty little kitchen of Bargain House. It sullies the pleasant memory!

The bathroom doesn't look all that bad:

Compared to some of the bathrooms in other flip houses, it's not a disaster. The tub/shower is to the left. Hick says it could be used. He won't be tearing that out. Probably leaving the toilet. Not sure about that sink.

I know the interior is in bad shape, but it's not as bad as what I had imagined. Hick has looked at a house with bags of trash piled in every room, and stinking from outside. Even it cost more than Cheap House!

As long as Hick sticks with his plan to do a gutting, structural repairs, and sell... I'm okay with this acquisition. If he starts trying to get fancy, he's gonna get an earful of Val.

Hick Knows a Lot, But Not as Much as He THINKS He Knows

Hick is on a roll with his misdirects concerning Cheap House. I think he might be setting a personal record for irritating me so many different ways on one topic.

Tuesday evening, I asked if he'd checked on an industrial dumpster.

"No. Not yet."

"What about the appliances? You're leaving them there, right?"

"No. The appliances are going away."

"But they'll fill up a dumpster! You already said you were worried about how big a dumpster we would need. For couches and a mattress."

"I'm not leaving appliances in the house. I'm tearing it down to the studs."

"The old appliances should be the problem of the new flipper who buys it. We're not fixing it up to make it pretty. Like you said how the bathtub was nice, and could be used. What do WE care? We're not flipping this house."

"I know, Val. But them guys I'm hiring to tear it out will get rid of the appliances. They'll want them for scrap metal. So they won't be going in the dumpster. They're all junk. I didn't even open the refrigerator. I don't want to know what's inside!"

"You better tell your guys not to open it in the house!"

"I don't care. They're the ones who'll be working inside and smelling it!"

Talk (my interrogation) turned to the closing date.

"So you don't know yet when we'll close?"

"I'm not so sure we'll have to. This is a foreclosure. All the title work has been done. There's no debts left. I don't think we'll have to sign anything. Just give them a cashier's check."

"That's the dumbest thing I ever heard! Of course we'll have a closing! They're not handing us a house with nothing being signed! I was right about the cashier's check, wasn't I?"

"No. Not really. Loan Officer would have taken my personal check. It's that woman who said no."

"That's how she got to be in her position! NOT by taking personal checks from random people buying property!"

I can't imagine what cockamamie idea Hick will come up with next. Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll change his story when he turns out to be wrong. There's nothing bad about saying, "Oh, I was mistaken." He has to take it further, trying to prove he was right all along. Like I CAIN'T UNDERSTAND NOTHIN'! That's the irritating part.

I THINK the Cheap House Deal is in Progress

Loan Officer did not call Hick on Monday as promised on Friday on the steps of the courthouse. Hick called him on Tuesday. Then sent me a text. In his usual Hicktextic fashion:

"Talked with Savings & Loan. They are getting the dead and all made up and will let me know and I can do a wire transfer or cashier check"

Somebody unfamiliar with Hicktext might worry. It doesn't seem a good omen to hear that the dead and all are being made up! Why? To look more presentable? Even if you assume that Hick meant DEED rather than dead, being made up sounds like something is being falsified!

So much for Hick's declaration that a personal check should be fine at the closing, to buy a $15,000 house, because the main office of our bank is right across the street from the Savings & Loan. We've always used a cashier's check to buy our real estate. I wouldn't want to accept a personal check from any buyer.

You'd think Hick would be walking on daisies, in a jolly mood, pampering Val for allowing him to make this unwanted (to her) purchase, (even though Val was outvoted by Hick and The Pony). But no. Hick is being his usual cantankerous self! I swear, I might have to ask his harem to intervene.

As of Tuesday morning, Hick still hadn't looked up the two local websites that rent industrial dumpsters.

"I talked to my buddy who's doing the cleanout. He said he rented a dumpster once, and it was $450. We're gonna need at least a 20-yard dumpster--"

"I gave you those websites! There's the list right in front of you. Each one of them has a picture of the sizes, and the EXACT COST they charge, for how long!"

Hick picked up the list and fiddled with his phone. I don't know what he was looking at, but when he turned his phone to show me, there were NO pictures. Just a yellow box saying the size and price.

"I don't know what you're on, but it's NOT the company website!"

"It is too, Val! See here? There's the name, and their address. It says to call them for a quote."

Hick had googled the name of the company, and clicked on the first result. Which I assume was a paid advertisement for local trash companies, and not the specific website. I swear, you CAIN'T TELL HICK NOTHIN'!

"That's not their website. I'll show you tonight on my laptop. Besides, I told you to get an estimate if HE gets the dumpster, and one if WE get the dumpster. So we can see what's cheapest for us."

"Val. The guys I get cain't afford to get a dumpster. WE are paying for the dumpster!"

"That's not what we talked about. Besides, if WE are paying, what keeps them from taking too much time, and getting us charged for another week? AND, you just said that your buddy had rented one before! So obviously he had the money."

"WE are getting the dumpster. He'll give me a quote when I walk him through the house."

"Make sure you write down what the deal is! About how much time they have, the total price, and when you will pay them!"

Hick is being extra dodgy about his hired help, and I don't like it.

More Ominous on a Cloudy Day

Here's your first picture of Cheap House. The exterior is kind of cute when you drive by on a sunny day. However... this is the Glamour Shot of this lipstick-needy pigsty. 

Hick has already made a trip to Lowe's for padlocks and plywood. He's boarding up broken windows, to keep the city off his back. This is NOT the city which seems to persecute Hick. That's where Lap House lives. This is the city we've had reasonable relations with, despite them not granting a variance for the Double Hovel, nor fixing the city sidewalk at Bargain House. They don't go out of their way to nitpick, just follow their regular protocol as they would for any other property owner.

Despite the lack of tender loving care, Cheap House is not all that unappealing from the street. We've seen many run-down houses that seem to smell from the listing photo. AND for much more than $15,000. 

There's no plan to make this one into a safe, livable home. Just put in windows, patch up structural problems, tear the interior down to the studs, then offer it to a flipper.

I actually have a few pictures of the interior. I don't know if you're ready for such squalor. I may not post them, unless you promise to sit down, smelling salts handy, ready to close your browser.

________________________________________________________________

Welp! Hick has already broken one promise. I just got an email from the electric company that a new account  has been opened. So much for not turning on the utilities. I weep for Lap House. Hick has a new baby.

________________________________________________________________

Hick Is On a Buyer's High

Without yet having put pens to paper, and taken legal possession of Cheap House, Hick is already making plans to pour money into his newest acquisition. He had his verbal agreement to purchase Cheap House on Friday afternoon. Saturday morning, Hick was already shopping it out at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5).

"I was tellin' of my buddies about gettin' the house, and he said he had looked at it. He thought about buyin' it. He said he passed on it, because he didn't want to do all the clean-out. When I told him my plan was to tear it down to the studs, and get rid of that back porch, and fix the hole in the floor, then sell it to a flipper... he said he might be interested! That when I get it ready, to let him know what I want for it."

"Is he a flipper?"

"No. Him and a partner buy houses, then fix them up and rent them. They don't sell them. So not really a flipper."

"So they DO buy old run-down houses and fix them?"

"Yeah. To rent. I talked to my buddy I was gonna hire to tear it out. I'm gonna take him by and show him, and get an estimate."

"Can you do that now? We don't legally own it yet. Do you have keys?"

"No. Nobody had any keys, Val. Even the Savings & Loan don't have any keys. I'll just cut off the padlocks that the lady put on there, and then put my own padlocks on."

"Will your buddy haul away all the junk? Or will you do that part? I know you said it would be cheaper to rent a dumpster than make all those trips to the landfill, and pay to dump."

"I don't know. I'll have to see what he says."

"Make sure you get an estimate for HIM clearing out the trash, and one if YOU dump the trash. So we'll know what's the best plan."

"Yeah, I will. I'm takin' my old weedeater on wheels to get it fixed. That'll be the easiest way to mow the lawn there. There's already weeds knee-high, so I'll have to get on it. It might cost $100 to fix my weedeater, but that's cheaper than $300-$400 for a new one."

While I was cooking Hick's supper (chicken, stuffing, baked beans, rolls), I looked up two businesses that rent the big dumpsters. I wrote down the URLs and the business names, and gave them to Hick.

"You can look these up. The first one is here in town. They charge $5/mile extra if you're more than 20 miles away, which Cheap House isn't. And the other one is over in Sis-Town. They have the sizes and what they cost on their websites."

"We'll probably need at least 20 cubic yards. Maybe 40."

I went back to the kitchen. In true Hick fashion, he completely ignored the info I had given him. And started searching for the price of dumpsters.

"It says here the average price of renting an industrial dumpster in our county is--"

"WHY are you doing that??? Go to those websites I gave you! They have the ACTUAL  PRICE for EACH SIZE of dumpster! An average isn't going to tell you what you need to know."

Poor Lap House. It's going to be the neglected step-house for a while.

The Auction That Wasn't

The auction on the courthouse steps for the sale of foreclosed Cheap House was scheduled for 1:00. I had a leg/knee therapy appointment at 1:00. I told Hick that I would not be available for a phone call until 2:00. But that he could text me with any news, and I could call later. Well. You know Hick...

I had just sat down on the end of the hydraulic table/bed. Legs dangling over the end, I was being hoisted ceilingward when by phone started ringing at 1:04.

"Oh, that will be my husband. He was going to an auction to buy a flip house at 1:00. I TOLD him I couldn't talk to him until after 2:00."

My occupational therapist didn't mind. "I can let you down. I don't mind if you take a call. I'm just going to do some measurements after I unwrap your legs."

"No. I'll call him later. No big deal."

My phone was zipped up in my purse, on the floor against the wall, by my shoes and socks. By the time I got to it, Hick would have lost patience and hung up. It wasn't exactly an emergency. But then I worried. What if Hick was going to bid MORE than we agreed on??? What if he'd already called The Pony and gotten an agreement? Oh, well. If that was the case, I was outvoted anyway. My phone kept interrupting. At 1:07. Then 1:27. Just texts this time. Does Hick not understand the meaning of an APPOINTMENT?

By 2:04, I had been unwrapped, measured, massaged, re-wrapped, and was back outside in T-Hoe. I read the texts:

1:07 "We own the house. Nobody else came to bid. Loan Officer said we'll do the paperwork next week. He would let me know."

1:27 "No one else even showed up"

I could tell Hick wanted to talk. To revel in his newest acquisition. I called.

"Did you write him a check?"

"No. We'll have a closing at the same place we went to sell the other house. I guess they'll take a personal check. Our bank is right across the street from them, if they want to verify it! I don't see no need to get a cashier's check and pay $10 for it."

"Did you find close parking by the courthouse?"

"Yeah. Right in front. Loan Officer and a gal from the Savings & Loan got there about 12:45. Then a gal from the title company showed up. [She actually owns the title company, but is a trustee of the Savings & Loan that foreclosed on Cheap House, and was there representing the Savings & Loan.] I got out and walked over. It was just me. At 1:00, the Title Co Gal asked if I was there to bid on the house. I said, 'Not for the price they're starting with, no.' Loan Officer said they were starting the bid at $18,400.'"

"Wait! Yesterday he told you $18,300! So it went up $100 overnight?"

"Yeah, I guess. Anyway, she handed me these papers, saying she was required by law to disclose that the house had been used for meth production. It's a legal thing. I'm not worried about that. When I said I wasn't bidding for that price, Loan Officer said he would still sell me the house at our previous agreed-on price of $15,000. Title Co Gal said, 'You'll have to make your arrangements with him (Loan Officer), then we will schedule the closing.' So I'll talk to him Monday. Oh, and it will be "$15,500, because nobody paid the taxes on it last year, and that's $500."

"So we, as the buyer, have to pay SOMEBODY ELSE'S DEBT? That doesn't sound right."

"I know. I'm gonna ask that on Monday. He said all debts were dead once the foreclosure happened. That nobody can come back on us for any judgments. I'm gonna ask why that doesn't apply to taxes, too."

"Well. It's not THAT much. We're getting a really cheap house."

Anyhoo... it's a done deal, except for the official closing and money transfer, which will be soon, I'm sure. They're desperate to unload this house! Hick is already calling his "guys" who will do the demolition. He's using one who's a contractor, which means the contractor will be responsible if anything happens to his workers on our property.

Hick is not worried about the meth thing. I don't think it will affect the resale to another flipper, which is what we're planning for Cheap House after structural cleanup. Hick says we're tearing it down to the studs, so there won't be anything meth-y in the walls or hidden. And that he'll get somebody to inspect it and verify nothing is there.

How do you do THAT? I can't imagine there are inspectors to certify buildings as meth-free! Only police with a drug dog, who aren't going to do private inspections. The notice Hick got was Missouri Statute 442.606, which is a disclosure concerning a property used for meth production, OR as a residence for a person convicted of meth crimes. It's not something that would dissuade me from buying a house. It's not like it's infested with black mold or eaten up by termites. I suppose we'll just have to give the same notice to a prospective buyer.

Anyhoo... once again, Thevictorians have TWO flip houses at the same time. 

A pain for bookkeeper Val.

Last Minute Info Before the Cheap House Auction

Thursday morning at Thevictorian Central...

Hick is in a tizzy over this Cheap House auction. He keeps reminding me he'll need a check Friday, in case he wins the bidding. 

"I guess they'll take a personal check. I don't know why they wouldn't. I haven't been to one of these foreclosure auctions. Just the delinquent tax sale auction. But that's run by the county, and not a bank."

Hick has also decided he won't have time for lunch Friday. Well. For a packed lunch that he usually takes on Friday to his SUS2.5. 

"Yeah, don't pack me no lunch. I won't have time."

"The auction is at 1:00. How will you not have time? When you go to the Senior Center, you eat at 11:00. I don't know why you couldn't eat lunch and then drive over to the courthouse. It's not even 10 minutes away."

"Well... I'll have to take time to close up my shop. I'll get a burger or something."

Heh, heh. Sounds like Hick would just rather have a burger. Which I think would take more time than microwaving a Pizza Pocket and opening a mini bag of chips. But I'm not one to interfere with Hick's auction prep juju.

Hick called me at 10:10.

"I got a call from Loan Officer about that foreclosure. He said they will start the bidding at $18,300. I told him we weren't going to bid over $18,000. He said to show up anyway. That if nobody bids on it, they will sell it to us for the $15,000 we originally agreed on. I told him okay, but that I wasn't bidding at $18,300. So we'll see what happens."

"I imagine somebody will be there, and bid on it. That won't break my heart, heh, heh. We only need one flippin' house at a time. You have enough work at Lap House to let people work there."

"We're on the way home with a load of junk from the basement right now."

"Why do WE need more junk?"

"It's lumber, Val. I'm putting it under the lean-to at the barn."

"I guess that's okay. Did you know your furnace guys showed up at The Pony's house?"

"Yeah. I gave them the wrong address."

"That doesn't surprise me!"

"Me either. One of the furnace guys didn't show up, and my buddy said he really had another job he needed to get done today. So they're coming back tomorrow. They got a little done while they was there."

"Hopefully they go to the right house tomorrow!"

"They will. They've been there now."

It's a dangerous situation for the next 24 hours! Hick is walking around with two blank checks! One for the furnace guy, and one for the foreclosure auction. I hope there's not more than one house being auctioned!

If I Was The Pony, I Might be Cursing My Flippin' Life, and My Heritage

Thursday morning, I got a text shortly after 8:00, from The Pony, questioning our Errand Day plans. Rather than texting back, I decided on a quick call.

"No, I don't really need any groceries. We'll just do the bank and gas and lottery."

"Guess who just knocked on my door right before 8:00."

"Oh, no! Your dad?"

"No. It was a furnace company. They asked if this was Thevictorian residence. I said yes, and they said, 'We're here to put in your furnace.' I told them I didn't NEED a furnace. That I already had one, but I could believe my dad sent them here. The guy pulled out his phone, and said, 'Well, this is the address, and it even says on the corner.' I told him, 'You need the OTHER corner, at the end of this block.' So they went down there to the flip house."

"Of course. That's your dad!"

"Yep. I saw the guy's phone. Dad had given them MY address!"

"What a pleasant way to wake up. I hate it when people knock on my door!"

"I had just gone to lie down in my second bedroom. You know how it is. Sometimes you just like a change when you're laying around the house doing nothing."

"I figured there would be things like this, knowing your dad, with Lap House so close to your house."

Anyhoo... I knew Lap House was getting the furnace on Thursday. I sent a check with Hick for payment. Renovations are underway. Maybe The Pony should be prepared for tradesmen traffic.

Declarations May Vary

I feel like an overstuffed horse's rumpus! Hick keeps baiting and switching me! It's all about Cheap House. Hick tells me what he thinks that property is worth, and what he'd do to it. I gobble up that info, trusting Hick's judgment. He's done pretty well, you know, flipping houses and putting money in our socks buried in the backyard...pockets...bank account...investment CDs. But then when I least expect it, SWITCH SWITCH SWITCH! Ouch! That smarts!

Tuesday, The Pony came out to celebrate Mother's Day. We picked up Chinese food. I didn't have to do anything. But then Hick said we would have a talk about Cheap House over the meal. The auction is FRIDAY. The Pony already flipped on me, and said it's okay to buy Cheap House, as long as Hick doesn't pay more than our original offer (of $15,000) to the Savings & Loan doing the repossession. And Hick had declared, only a week ago, that on second inspection, he felt like we should only pay $10,000.

Oh, but on Tuesday, Hick was pushing for paying $18,000, upon which he would put about $12,000 to $15,000 into it, just tearing it down to the studs and fixing a hole in the floor and putting in windows where they were broken and boarded.

"WAIT! That means we'll have over $30,000 in it! That's what I thought we could sell it for, really quick. To another flipper. Now you're doing flipper work, when THEY should have to be the ones to put in windows and get it livable. AND we'll be paying insurance on it, and utilities. There's no reason to have TWO flip houses at the same time, when you barely have time to work on ONE. We've had Lap House for TWO MONTHS, and all you've done is turn on gas and electric and water and get insurance and clean a little junk out of the basement. IN TWO MONTHS."

"Val. I can't do it all myself. I'd hire somebody to tear it out."

"That's MORE money. And that's my point. YOU don't have time to do it. You're saying what I just said, like that's some kind of excuse for putting more money into this house."

"Val. We could still sell it for about $40,000. We'd still be making money. I won't turn on the utilities. But we'll have to get insurance, yeah."

"That doesn't seem to me to be a good deal. It will take more of your time away from Lap House, which is where we'll make the money, selling a finished house. I don't think dragging it out, putting time and money into Cheap House, just to make $5000 each (probably less with commissions), is worth all the trouble."

"Mom. Five thousand dollars is a lot of money!"

"Not for everything he'll have to do. He's got too much going on."

"Val. You can't make that kind of money on interest these days."

"You don't have to DO anything to make interest! It takes up none of your time to keep you from your store or the apartments or your side jobs or LAP HOUSE."

"Mom. Really. I'm fine with spending $18,000 and gutting the house. It will still make money."

So here we go again. Val is the odd gal out. I can only hope that there are bidders who want to pay more for this unadvertised house on the courthouse steps. I doubt that Hick is the only flipper that Loan Office notifies of these things.

Perhaps Being Right is Not Sufficient

Val was a victim of road rage on Monday. Or perhaps she was the perpetrator! Here's what went down...

I was over on the back side of Sis-Town, at a 4-way intersection. It has four stop signs, no light. Each direction has a straight lane, and a left turn lane. It can sometimes be hectic if there are eight cars waiting their turns. But Monday, there were only TWO cars. A white sedan on my left, coming from the highway, or a convenience store thereby. And T-Hoe.

We were both going straight across the intersection. White Sedan was headed towards the industrial park. I was continuing along an outer route that would eventually bring me to my bank and an intersection with a light. The time was around 12:10. So not really a rush hour.

We both arrived at the same time. I didn't see White Sedan rolling on, as people will do when they're in a hurry. Nor was I rolling. I just decided to make my move. Vaguely remembering way back when I was studying for my driver's license test, how at such an intersection, with no clear idea of whose turn it was, that the car on the right has the right of way. Did I imagine that? I think it's a thing. And I was the car on the right. So I went.

Well! White Sedan must never had read that instruction manual! White Sedan came at me, and HONKED really loud and long. It seems to me that was a bit uncalled-for, what with White Sedan being in a position that would T-bone T-Hoe if he hadn't braked. Meaning I was already in the middle of the intersection by the time White Sedan came at me. Otherwise, White Sedan would have been slamming into my front bumper if he had been there first and I intruded.

I had nothing to prove. I was in no particular hurry. Had White Sedan already been rolling, or had squealed to a stop as if in a rush, I would have waited for White Sedan to go first.

Anyhoo... I got an earful of horn, and I'm not exactly sure why.

An Ugly Reared Head Worms Its Way In

Hick had a tale when he got home from his SUS2.5 Saturday evening.

"You'll never guess who come in my store this afternoon. BEV! She brought a gallon of paint, and said, 'Should I give this to you, or Old Buddy?' I was busy and didn't pay much attention to her. I said, 'Old Buddy, I guess.'"

"So you wouldn't even take the paint?"

"She said, 'I thought you might want to use it for one of your houses. Then said, 'Nick wants to know if you buy shotguns.' I said, 'Yeah. I buy shotguns.' I walked off. I had customers. She left, and Nick never come in."

"I KNEW you'd take them back! What's Old Buddy gonna do with it? You'll use that paint."

"Maybe."

"What color is it?"

"It's kills paint. To cover stains and stuff. So probably white."

"Dang it! You're letting them come crawling back, after how they treated you!"

"Well, I didn't pay her no attention. I was busy."

Hick was happy, though, despite the return of Bev. He had a good sales day.

"I got a good compliment from an old man today. He come in to buy some ammunition. He said he came to me because of my customer service. He could have gone somewhere else and got it cheaper, but he likes the way I treat people."

"Oh, no! God wouldn't like that! You're charging more for it than it's worth!"

"Heh, heh! That's what I should have told Bev: 'Yeah, I buy shotguns, but I won't buy one from you because I might charge too much when I sell it.' I didn't think of it at the time."

A Typical Mother's Day for Val

The day started like any other, with Hick sitting on the long couch before leaving around 6:00 a.m. I was on the short couch. But this day, Hick said, "Happy Mother's Day."

"Thank you."

"I seen you got a nice card yesterday from Genius."

"Yes. Right on time. Pony is bringing one on Tuesday, when we have our 'celebration' with Chinese food."

"When I cook them pork steaks?"

"No! I am NOT doing any cooking on Tuesday! It's my Mother's Day! You are cooking the pork steaks tonight. I'll bake the beans, and I've thawed out the hash brown casserole to have with it, too. So this will be three meals worth, for Sunday, Monday, and Wednesday. Tuesday is Chinese. I'm not doing anything but eating."

"Oh. Okay."

Of course we rescheduled Mother's Day for Hick to have his day of business Sunday at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). That was fine with me. All my days are pretty much the same.

Then started a discussion of the tests Hick had on Friday, to prepare for the surgery he had to postpone until August due to his x-rays of not-pneumonia and uncollapsed lung. It was a Transthoracic Echocardiogram Test. Which Hick referred to as a stress test. All I know is that he had three tests scheduled that day, spread out over three hours, to determine if he is sound for surgery.

"I couldn't believe the cost of that test! It was $17,000-something!"

"No, Val. It was $13,400."

"I don't know where you get that! I just looked at it yesterday when you gave me the receipt for the $150 copay. It was $17,000-something."

"Nooo. I looked at it when they handed it to me. It's $13,400."

"I'm so tired of you doing this to me! I looked right at it. Then I threw it in the trash. I don't really want to get up right now, but later I'm going to dig it out to prove it to you."

"I can go get it right now. On my way out. Where is it?"

"You'll never find it. You can't find anything! It's in the wastebasket. Come back over here and stand in front of me."

"I don't need to do that. I know where the wastebasket is."

"That's surprising! But you won't look in the right spot unless you're lined up like you're looking right at it. It's HERE! At about the 4:00 area. Folded in quarters like when you handed it to me."

"What are you gonna say when you see it's $13,400?"

"Nothing. Because I know it was $17,000-something."

Surprisingly enough, Hick found the discarded receipt. Even more surprising, he actually brought it to show me:

"Let me see!"

"Huh. I guess I read it wrong."

"Reading it wrong is not a big deal. It's how you always treat me like I DON'T KNOW NOTHIN', when I'm actually right, and you are just figuring I won't bother to check on your 'facts' that you use to prove me wrong. Maybe next time, you'll listen to me."

At 7:22, Hick must have been feeling guilty. He sent me a text.

"I'm sorry o didn't get you a card but I do love you happy mothers day." With a big emoji kind of picture with flowers that said Happy Mother's Day.

Never mind that Hick still has time to get me a real card by Tuesday. I'm pretty sure that's not gonna happen. It's no big deal to me if I get a card or gift. 

The best part about this Mother's Day is that I got VALidation.

There's a Pole and the Bucket

A few weeks ago, I parked in my rightful handicap space beside the Gas Station Chicken Store, and noticed something new. Some type of maintenance paraphernalia was in my path to the door. 

This is unlike Man Owner, to leave equipment lying around. I've often seen him sweeping up, or tossing out salt for a snow forecast, or taking trash to the dumpster. I can't imagine anything that would cause him to leave tools outside where a customer could trip and take a tumble and get an irreputable injury attorney to sue for his livelihood.

Of course I did not plan to lie down beside those items and holler, "I've fallen, and I can't get up!" That would be silly. Because I really CAN'T get up! I just took a picture, because I want to know what this is.

I walk by that post all the time, sometimes putting a hand on top to steady myself, like it's a complementary industrial cane put there just for my ambulatory needs. The top is sealed with concrete. I've never noticed any openings down the sides. Yet it looks like that hose might be attached.

Is this some kind of a hand-held pump? Does it pull something out of the pipe, and pump it into the bucket? Eww! Is is sewer? Is it a way to get water outside? Does it pull a sample from the gas tanks? 

I took the picture so I could ask Hick what's the purpose of this contraption. Yet I keep forgetting to ask Hick. He will not like being disturbed while he's at his SUS2.5. So I'll ask when he gets home.

____________________________________________________________________

Hick was stumped! Said he didn't know what this thing was. He's never seen anything like it. His best guess was that maybe Man Owner was using it to flush out the downspout on the corner of the building. Like the contraption might blow air up in the downspout to dislodge something blocking it. But it still doesn't explain the bucket. Unless he could suck water up in it, to blast out into the downspout. The bucket was empty when I walked by.

_____________________________________________________________________

Hick Rescues Another Elderly

Hick had another phone call this week. It was the daughter who had just moved her mother in. She had been paying for the apartment for two months, but just now moved. Daughter said the toilet was leaking. She had already left, but wanted Hick to know. 

Hick drove to town, and I delayed his supper. He got there, and the door was unlocked. He figured the Daughter had taken her mom somewhere. He knocked and nobody answered, so he went in. And saw a purse sitting there. He hollered, "I'm coming in." And the old lady said, "Just a minute. I'm getting out of the shower."

Hick went back out, startled, and waited for her to come to the door. He checked out the bathroom. Said the rubber seal between the tank and the toilet must have deteriorated with the toilet not being used for a while. It didn't leak continuously, but only when flushed. He went back the next day and replaced it.

Hick noticed that the woman didn't have any kitchen furniture.

"I have that table I used at the flip houses, for running my saw. And I have four chairs I got when the dentist office closed. So I got them and put them in. I called the Daughter, and said, 'If you don't want them, I'll take them out. But she has a table and chairs to eat at now.' The Daughter thanked me and said that was nice.

I feel so bad for some of these old people. It's like their family shoves them off and doesn't want to do anything. This one old lady was worried that her cashier's check wouldn't be good. She's been there a couple months, and has always paid on time. But she said that she called her bank, and the money wasn't in her account. I told her it's a cashier's check! They wouldn't have given it to her if she didn't have the money. It will be fine. She said she had called her daughter, worried about it, and the daughter said, 'You'll have to deal with it, Mom. I didn't have anything to do with it.' Which seems kind of mean. The lady was really worried."

Sometimes, I think you can't actually pay Hick what he's worth.

A Nice Gesture is Good for Business

The mail contained a strange tiny envelope on Monday. I saw a last name on the return address, which seemed familiar, though I couldn't place it. I figured it must be one of Hick's acquaintances. I knew I'd heard him say that name. Hick leaves all the mail for me to open. HEH, HEH! I am delirious with power! Of course HE trusts ME. It's not like I have MY OWN MONEY or anything...

Inside was a little card with a handwritten note:

_____________________________________________________________

Dear Hick, Val, & Pony,

I'm glad we finally got this one wrapped up! I appreciate your patience & the opportunity to help get it sold.

Please let me know if I can be of help again down the road. Enjoy a little shopping trip on me when Target opens!

Realtor Guy

______________________________________________________________

Inside the note was a gift card for Target, which is in the process of building a store over in Bill-Paying Town. I'm sure it would work for online ordering as well.

Wasn't that nice? A $50 gift card! (He wrote the amount on the back.) Even Hick was impressed. I'm pretty sure we'll be using Realtor Guy for our future flips, even without the paper forms ultimatum Hick had planned. Realtor Guy had honored the commission percentage given to us by our dear departed Realtor, and was always available for Hick's questions. We don't blame him for the Bargain House marathon. He was quick to get back to us as soon as he heard anything from the Buyer. Even late at night, and on Sundays.

Realtor Guy has good marketing sense.

A Burned Bridge and a Hicksplanation

Hick drove me to a leg appointment Tuesday afternoon. I'm not sure it will lead to an eventual knee replacement, but it's worth a try. I'd never been to this facility before. It's a 45-minute drive, and I didn't know how the parking would be. I hate to take Hick away from his busy unscheduled schedule, but he's handy for dropping me off at the door.

The good news was that there's parking right up against the building, so next time I can drive myself. The bad news is that my appointment took 90 minutes! Anyhoo... that's not the topic here today.

Hick was driving A-Cad, which has his phone in sync with the radio. We just got on the highway to home around 2:30 when a call came in. Hick can't see the tiny radio screen very well. He relies on me to tell him while he's driving, so he knows if he wants to answer, in which case I tap the screen.

"It's says 'Nick and Bev neighbors.' NOPE!"

"Yeah. No. I'm not answering that."

What goes around comes around, and now Nick and Bev can reap the harvest of their burned bridge. Hick did not get any further communication from them later. No text or other missed call. When it comes to their former loyal handyman Hick, they shall remain forever unhelped.

It was a rainy, dreary day. (As opposed to a rainy cheery day, or a sunny dreary day!) I had worn a hoodie, but I was still cold. The ride there wasn't bad. I had my heat control turned up to 75, and the warmth was blowing comfortably. The whole way home, I was freezing. I didn't look at the temperature dial until we were already at Mailbox Row.

"No wonder I'm freezing! You turned off the fan while I was inside! That 75 is just a number. There's no heat flowing in here!" I turned the dial about 1/4 of the way up. "NOW it can blow 75-degree air!"

Hick got out to go around for the mail. "No, Val." He gave one of his Hicksplaining chuckles. "It's just blowing regular air."

What in the NOT-HEAVEN is THAT supposed to mean??? There was most definitely warm air shooting out my vent now. Not "regular" 53-degree air from outside.

After that incident, I wasn't really sorry that Hick had to waste 90 minutes of my appointment time, plus the trips there and back.