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!

Hick Brings Hot Water Upon Himself

Hick is a schemer and a redeemer. It's tough to sneak a bargain past him. 

A year or two ago, Hick signed up for a Lowe's Pro account. It's for contractors, I think. Or anyone who plans to buy a lot of stuff at once, like a contractor would. I was against it, because the bill comes separately from the regular Lowe's credit card bill. And the itemization is very confusing, because apparently you can pay off a purchase separately, and wait to pay the rest. I don't need that kind of headache. One bill a month, paid in full. That's my routine to pay Lowe's and Menards for the flip house expenses. 

Anyhoo... in questioning one such itemized Lowe's Pro bill, Hick discovered that he can pay right there at the store. No need to wait on a confusing statement in the mail. Also, Hick gets points on his account that can be redeemed for future purchases. In fact, he cashed in $86 just before Christmas, he says, buying stuff for Bargain House.

Now comes the scheming. Two events that Hick could gleefully join together.

Hick has been upgrading one of the senior apartments. With approval from his boss, of course. It's getting new laminate flooring to replace the old carpet. Plus a new refrigerator, stove, and air conditioner.

Last week, while fiddling around in his basement workshop, Hick discovered that our water heater has a leak. He got it fixed up, but we need a new water heater. This doesn't surprise me. We've had this one since the boys were living here. A couple times, Hick hauled it out the basement door, and made them help him drain it and remove the lime deposits that had formed. So we've definitely gotten our use out of this water heater.

The scheme? To add our water heater to the Lowe's order for the apartments. It's a win-win, because there weren't enough apartment purchases to make the bill over $2000, which is required to get the discount prices. The cost of our water heater would put the total above $2000.

I'm not sure if Hick got his scheme approved ahead of time. But here's how it worked out. There was no specific percentage of discount like I had assumed. "They just had contractor discount prices on certain items. So you get whatever it is. They're all different amounts."

According to Hick, the total savings was $550. So the apartments saved $430 on their items, and we saved $120 on our water heater. Hick says the apartment savings is like them getting the flooring for free. Also, Hick got points worth $21 on his account for the order. 

The bookkeeper for Hick's apartment job gave him a check to pay when he picked up the order. I asked if he needed a check for $360.05 to give the bookkeeper for the cost of our water heater. He said no, she wanted it in cash. Which seems odd because she doesn't want Hick giving her the elderlies' rent in cash, but who am I to question an agency that helps old people?

Anyhoo... our water heater is paid for, the apartment appliances are paid for, the apartments saved money, we saved money, and Hick got $21 worth of points to redeem, plus a message that he can get 25% off a future order of $2000 or more.

That was a pretty good scheme.

Hick is a Mess, Thanks to The Universe

Now The Universe is getting physical! Poor Hick. He came home with a bloody lip!

"I fell. I was going in the Senior Center."

"Did you trip? Did anybody see you?"

"Nobody saw me. I was just walking across the floor, and lost my balance. Sometimes that happens, like I can't move my feet fast enough to recover."

"There's no money in THAT!"

"Heh, heh. Yeah. I had been out to the lumberyard to get a light cover for the gal who runs the kitchen. She's got an inspector comin', and her four-foot fluorescent don't have no cover on it. I just fell while I was walkin' through."

"You dropped a glove."

"That ain't no glove. That's my paper towel for my lip." Hick picked it up from the kitchen floor and dabbed at his lower right lip.

"Hey! That was on the floor! Where Pepper runs around!"

"It ain't gonna hurt me. Here's another one my toenail girl give me. She seen it when I was at the counter payin'."

"For supper, you're having boneless chicken wings. And I can make you mashed potatoes."

"I don't want nothing hard to chew."

"Boneless wings aren't hard to chew! OR mashed potatoes!"

"Yeah. I guess that'll be fine. I don't want nothin' salty. I was thinkin' about chips."

Hick grabbed a Diet Mountain Dew out of FRIG II. 

"What are you doing now, going to have some Chex Mix?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Um. Salty?"

"I can fit it in the other side of my mouth."

Good thing Hick can adapt to live with his injury.

The Universe Messes With Hick

Gotta say, I'm glad to be off The Universe's hook. It's Hick's turn to be messed with. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.

Saturday evening, I was ready for Hick to be home at his usual time, around 5:00. With the recent time change, I thought he might show up later. An extra hour of daylight is nothing to sneeze at for a flea market business. I held off on starting his supper. It was going to be quite simple, anyway. Just a couple of hot dogs cooked in the oven, Ruffles potato chips, and baby carrots with dip. Ten minutes, tops, for preparation.

When Hick wasn't home by 5:25, I called. Just to get an idea of his ETA. Was it worth sitting down with my scratchers, or was his arrival imminent? His phone rang several times, but didn't go to voice mail. I thought maybe he was nearly here, and in the dead zone down by Mailbox Row. I usually get voice mail if he's at his SUS2.5, because he doesn't get good reception inside. From my phone, anyway, though he calls in to the FFL people to verify if customers can legally purchase his highly-regulated items.

I didn't send a text. I went to change into my scratcher-scratching clothes. Of course my phone rang. It was Hick, saying he had a customer, but would be leaving soon. I told him no big deal. I wouldn't be starting his supper until after 6:30. It takes Hick 30 minutes to drive home. And at least 15 minutes to put his wares inside, and lock up his units.

This timing would work out fine. I'd have Hick's supper ready for him to take to his recliner and watch the new season of Storage Wars that came on at 7:00. Hick loves that show! It's what got him started with his flea market business(s). And now it's back.

At 6:30, Hick arrived. I finished my current scratcher, and put his hot dogs in the oven while he went outside with little puppy Pepper, who has been LET LOOSE from his back-porch pen to live like a regular dog on the grounds of our hillbilly mansion. I got Hick's plate ready with the baby carrots. Set out the hot dog buns and chips and mustard. I was getting ready to spoon the dip onto the plate at 6:48 when Hick came in the kitchen door.

"I cain't remember nothin'! A guy from the storage units just called, and said I didn't close the door on my shop! I'm glad he called. I've got to go lock it up!"

"Well. Your supper will just sit here until you get back. You're going to miss your show."

"Yeah. There ain't nothin' I can do about that. I have to go."

Poor Hick. I had everything timed just right for his Saturday evening. The Universe thought otherwise. Hick got back home at 7:43.   

"Were you speeding? That's a pretty fast trip there and back!"

"No. I wasn't speeding. I just got to thinking, I have a buddy who lives five minutes from the flea market. I bet he would have drove over there and locked up for me. But it's done now. I'd been moving my stuff in, closing up, when a kid (actually a young adult, which Hick calls 'kids') come up wanting to buy somethin'. I went in with him, and a couple of my buddies carried my stuff in for me. That threw off my routine, and I didn't lock up like I usually do."

It was the big door, the outside pull-down garage type door that he'd left up. The regular front door in the wall of his storefront was locked. So nobody was going to walk in and help themselves. But you don't want your metal security door left open on a Saturday night. 

That's for sure!

Lucky for Hick, there were TWO episodes of the new season of Storage Wars. He got to see the end of the first, and all of the second. And all his wares were safe and secure.

Nothing Quite So Pleasant as SilverRedO with a Pheasant

Hick has been at it again, out rounding up bargains (and FREEbies) for his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). This time they came from one of his favorite hangouts, a pawn shop on Main Street. One of his buddies runs it. Hick has been saying for a while that it's going out of business. Yet he was over there playing the fake slot machines when I met him in October for our yearly meeting with our financial advisor across the street.

Friday, I suppose it really WAS going out of business. Hick said he had to get over there to see what was left. Is it a bad sign or a good sign for the economy when a pawn shop goes out of business? Are people no longer needing to pawn things? Or have they run out of things to pawn?

Anyhoo... Hick had previously picked up some bargain merchandise that will be good for re-sale. While there, he had seen a pheasant. He really wanted that pheasant, but the buddy said it was not for sale. Who has a going-out-business sale at a pawn shop and then won't sell a pheasant? I really need a lot of questions answered about this experience!

Anyhoo... the buddy had apparently called Hick and told him there was good news and bad news. The bad being that he had another item he knew Hick would really want for his SUS2.5, thus costing Hick more money, so soon after he had made a trip to another pawn shop down in Casino Town, and traded a bunch of silver for the same kind of merchandise. But the good news was that the buddy was going to GIVE Hick the pheasant! For being such a good customer. A little bonus.

There it is, proudly posed on SilverRedO, under the carport. I asked Hick his plans for it.

"I'm going to put it in my shop!"

"Will you sell it?"

"I don't plan to. But if somebody offers me the right price, I will."

"What's your price?"

"At least $100."

"Where did it come from?"

"Somebody shot it, and had it stuffed."

"I KNOW that! But I wondered if there was a story with it. I don't know anybody hunting pheasants around here. It's quail."

"I don't know. Probably from out west somewhere. Maybe the Dakotas."

Hick's concept of "west" is a little different from mine. But technically, the Dakotas ARE west of Missouri.

We'll see how long Hick can hold onto his pheasant...

Val Is Thrust Kicking and Screaming into the 2026 Tax Season

I hate progress!!! Especially the electronical kind of progress. 

It's tax season, you know. I've always done our taxes. Even back in the dark ages when you got a packet of forms in the mail, and had to order (by mail!) any extra forms you couldn't find stocked at a post office or library. Then those forms stopped! You could still order them. But they were not delivered, nor readily available in town.

That's when I started using TurboTax. The disc you could buy at Walmart and slide into the tower of your desktop. It walked me through the items I needed. Then made a file of them in proper order. All I had to do was print them on my laser printer that sat beside my trusty desktop computer. I had adapted to progress!

But wait. My laser printer quit working. So I had to save my file on a thumb drive for Hick to take to town and get printed at the UPS store. The gals there really liked him for some reason. I swore I would get a new printer. By the time I did that, I was not going to the basement to my desktop. It was after my unfortunate HospitVALzation, and I wasn't making trips up and down those 13 rail-less basement stairs.

My new printer worked for one month. I might have used it twice. Even then, it didn't work well. It took The Pony a while to set it up and make it go. Because everything these days wants to run on those magical invisible signals floating around. My laptop HIPPIE was having none of that. Or perhaps it was the printer. HIPPIE would say he sent out the signals, but the printer in the living room didn't get them. 

Hick wasn't going to the UPS store any more. I figured I'd take a chance, and just save my tax forms on HIPPIE. He has several years worth. Luckily I didn't need to look up anything. Until NOW.

My tax life became a whole lot more difficult over the past few years. Walmart quit selling TurboTax in favor of H&R Block. But I could still get my TurboTax from Amazon. Until TurboTax quit making the CD version. So it had to be downloaded and somehow made usable on HIPPIE. The Pony did that for me. 

The second year, we couldn't remember my password, which was required to use my own laptop to utilize the software that I had already paid for. INTUIT was holding my account hostage! There was no way to say I forgot my password and reset it! After trying every imaginable version of my go-to password, with me in tears, and The Pony apologizing for not being able to find a way around that password... I suggested one little tweak to that password family, and it WORKED!

Well. This year, equipped with The Pony and a password, a new monkey wrench was tossed into my tax life. Like Adam Sandler in Big Daddy, tossing sticks into the path of roller-bladers in the park! TurboTax geniuses decided that this year's version could no longer run on Windows 10. Only Windows 11 or higher. Which meant I had to use a whole new laptop, as HIPPIE was not compatible. Too old and slow to run Windows 11. No simple upgrade.

Luckily I had a "new" laptop The Pony got me a couple Christmases ago. I call him LENNY, because he's a Lenovo. He works just fine. But he's NEW to me. The keys are a different spacing from very wide HIPPIE. So I have to look down and make a lot of corrections.

Oh, did I mention that I'm not good at using that little finger pad thingy instead of a mouse? And I only have one mouse. It works fine with LENNY. All I have to do is unplug a little thingy on the side of HIPPIE, and insert it in the (opposite of course) side of LENNY.

Here's the deal. With HIPPIE slowly dying, shutting down randomly from overheating, I had transferred my previous few tax year files from HIPPIE to LENNY. Just in case I might need them. Which I did, because of a dang lump-sum payment of SS when teachers were allowed to draw it on their spouses like every other profession or non-workers.

Yep. I had everything done. From the sale of three properties in 2025, to Hick's business, and his new non-employee contractor status due to his less (now more) than $300 a month job with the senior apartments. He got a 1099-NEC. But I got it figured out. Yet now it was my own income that tripped me up.

I needed to find the taxable amount of Hick's SS in 2024, because that's what my lump-sum payment was for: a few months in 2024, because they backdated the teacher claims for when the law was changed.

Anyhoo... the point of all this confusing stuff I forced you to read is that I HAD those 2024 tax forms for reference. I only needed two items. Hick's full amount of SS for that year, and the taxable amount. 

LENNY could not open my 2024 tax return! He needs some program to open it in. I will have to consult The Pony for that. But wait! I still have the file on HIPPIE. Sitting right there behind LENNY on the kitchen table. So all I needed was to open the file on HIPPIE to read the info to type into LENNY where I had TurboTax open.

Well. Did you forget that I have one mouse? So I had to unplug and replug and shuffle the guys around to get into HIPPIE and open that 2024 file. Then switch the mouse back to LENNY to type it in. Oh, I got it done. It took way longer than should have been necessary.

Back in the olden days, it was SO EASY to open last year's manilla folder and look at any tax forms you needed for reference.

That was my point...

Living in the Sticks

We were cautious on Thursday when Hick took me to my orthopedist appointment. He took an alternate route to avoid the low water bridge on the county blacktop road. We can tell by the height of our creek if that bridge will be underwater. We also took the alternate route on Monday when I had a follow-up appointment with my regular NP. The creek was probably down from the second batch of rain, but we figured there might be logs on the bridge.

Coming home, Hick took a chance, just to see if the bridge was clear for his trip back to town. We can always turn around at the top of the hill and take the alternate. It's just more time-consuming.

Anyhoo... the bridge itself was clear.

The creek had gone down. The county road crew had not yet been out to scrape all the dirt off the edge of the bridge. The other side has been cleaned off. Hick thinks the guy who lives at the first house over there sometimes does the dozing of debris. He's a contractor with heavy equipment.

You can see that traffic has been crossing. Most likely the first few were in pickup trucks anyway, with 4WD, in case they got stuck. This smashed ruts in the sandy soil for others to pass.

A-Cad has AWD, and had no problems easing through the dirt. I took the alternate later. T-Hoe would have no problems, but I prefer a less bumpy ride.

That dirt must have been pretty deep for the first couple of vehicles to pass.

Tuesday, Hick reported that the dirt had been cleared. Indeed, it was piled on the side, and a guy with a truck and trailer was shoveling some for personal use. The road had been skinned of the last two layers of blacktop. Flood water is a powerful force! T-Hoe climbed the "steps" from the bridge to road just fine.

We have a blacktop patch now that makes it pretty smooth. Until the next big rain.

Hick Goes Up on the Roof

Hick was up on the roof of the senior apartments Monday morning, looking for the source of a leak during our three inches of rain last week. It had caused a light to fall from the ceiling inside. He found it. The rubber coating on the roof had collapsed in one corner. It's not something Hick is qualified to fix, so he called a contractor.

 

There's a view across town at sunrise. Not very impressive. It's a small town that sprung up during the lead mining era. Hick's apartment building sits on Main Street. In the distance, you can see the store where I shop every Thursday. It will always be Country Mart to me, even though another chain has taken over. The brick building to the left of Hick's roof is the former Southwestern Bell Telephone building that my dad worked out of for many years. In the days before Bell was de-regulated into AT&T.

There's not much to see of Main Street from this view. That white building used to be a Western Auto store when I was a kid, but is now a Subway. The sandwich shop, not underground transit. The only thing underground in this town it the lead mine, now closed.

If you zoom in, you can see the back of the post office, the loading dock with all the vehicles parked. To the left of it, there's a brick building with two green awnings. That is now the city library, but it used to be the unemployment office, where I worked when Genius was born.

Getting back to the roof business... I asked Hick how much it would cost to replace the roof.

"It's like replacing a roof on a house. It will cost about $16,000."

"Does the association have enough money to do that?"

"Oh, yeah. Since I took over a year ago, it went from having a negative balance to over $60,000 in the bank."

"Will it be the same kind of roof? That tarpaper stuff? Or metal, like a house?"

"It's not tarpaper. It's EDPM. It will be the same kind of roof."

Good to know that Hick has filled the coffers of the association for the elderlies, what with getting all those apartments ready and rented. So they can afford to replace the roof. They're sure not wasting that money on Hick's salary!