Even though I malign Hick here on a regular basis, I'm confidant that you've figured out he's a pretty nice guy. Not pretty in the beautiful sense, but pretty as in mostly.
This morning Hick left the house after telling me that he was going to spend the day painting the concrete floor of his soon-to-be Freight Container Garage. He's painting it gray, so don't have great expectations. I guess the gray of the concrete is not appealing enough for Hick to stump his footless ankles on. As he left the boudoir, he said something over his shoulder about his Trailblazer needing gas, and that he might go to town for that.
A few hours later, when I left to transfer some money between accounts to cover Hick's trusses...I felt like something was off. Couldn't quite determine what. Until I got halfway to the mailboxes, and remembered that the Gator had been parked behind the Toronado as I backed T-Hoe out of the garage. That only happens when Hick is in the house. Or gone. He would have driven the Gator to the Freight Container Garage area. I hadn't noticed if the Trailblazer was gone. I just knew that Hick wasn't inside, and I'd assumed he was over past the BARn. I had left the kitchen door unlocked.
I called Hick and asked where he was. He sounded a little odd. Kind of quiet for him. He's not one to use or even understand an inside voice. It seemed like he was all hushed.
"I'm in Goodwill now."
"Oh. I thought you were painting your floor. I left the house unlocked. I'll go back and lock it."
"I'm getting ready to leave now. It'll be fine until I get there."
That's all he said. Kind of short-winded for Hick. Normally, he tells me all about what bargains he's seen or just missed. When I came out of our financial institution, I called Hick to see which bill denominations he wanted for paying Buddy for two loads of gravel, and for buying a car for neighbor Tommy next week. The other denominations I planned to deposit into checking for the trusses.
Huh. There I sat, on the parking lot of a savings and loan, a couple thousand dollars in my lap, and now Hick wanted to chat. I clicked the door locks and checked T-Hoe's mirrors.
"This morning I went to Casey's for gas. I was standing there pumping, watching a worker try to explain how a card works at the pumps for a little old lady, and I saw this woman come walking up over the hill by the mushroom factory. She was talking on a cell phone, and waving her arm. You could tell she was upset. She got down in front of the Nub's Pub, across from Casey's, and stood there on the phone. Anybody could have seen that she was crying. Then she came over and asked me, 'Do you think you could take me to Bill-Paying Town?' [12 miles down the highway] I told her sorry, that I was just getting gas and going right back home. It was out of my way. She said she understood. She was trying to get to the treatment center. Her hands were shaking she was so upset. Then I felt bad, and said I'd take her. When I came back out from paying, she was standing beside the car, trying to call the treatment center. I could hear the phone ringing. They didn't pick up until we were all the way to Next Town."
"Well...I guess you're lucky she didn't kill you. Or accuse you of something..."
"I thought of that. If she'd been young, I wouldn't have done it. But she was middle-aged. Late 30s or early 40s. She was saying something to the counselor about how they didn't send anybody to pick her up. And that she knew they said they wouldn't pick her up anymore, but that she was on her way now. I dropped her off at the treatment center, and she went in. She didn't really say anything on the way over. Just 'Thank you' when I let her off."
"Huh. I hope she's okay. Maybe she didn't make her appointments or something. Or violated their rules. Maybe they were trying Tough Love on her, and you helped her instead. I guess she's where she needs to be."
"Yeah. I feel like I did the right thing. I've done my good deed for the day."
Dang it, Hick! Don't you know she could have stabbed you or screamed RAPE? I swear, I don't know how to knock some sense into Hick sometimes. Why can't he just let people fend for themselves? It's one thing to give money to an 11:00 a.m. alcoholic, or to buy a car for a neighbor without any money or job...but he's going to get hurt one of these days. He's totally the kind of guy who would stop to help somebody change a tire, and then get run over by a tractor trailer truck.
This gal might have been scamming him, but she didn't ask for any money, and he DID drop her off at the treatment center, and she went inside.
I'm surprised Hick has not been arrested for indecent exposure, and that he even has a wardrobe left, after giving so many people the shirts off his back.
Hick is a regular Father Teresa.
I'm pretty sure that's what my best ol' ex-teaching buddy Mabel's mom would have said about him.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Hick Pipes Up
You may recall that Hick has been paving the gravel road. Hick and his buddy, Buddy. Buddy supplies the materials, left over from his free-lance dump truck hauling. Hick provides the labor. He's pretty much on call to smooth out the blacktop when Buddy gets a load. Let the record show that blacktop waits for no Hick. It must be spread before it cools. Or Buddy will have a truck full of hardened blacktop. HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) had been called in recently to assist, since Hick has a spare tractor just sitting around, and HOS is currently not working on the railroad.
When we last critiqued the roads that Hick (and Buddy) built, they left a little to be desired. They had paved one side of the gravel road hill, and since Ireported them told you of their progress, they have done both sides of the hill.
Yes, it's still not smooth. Very bumpy. Hick says the first time, they had to get that load out before it hardened, and Buddy drove his dump truck over it, thinking that would smooth it out, but it resulted in ruts. Permanent ruts. You can't put the genie back in the lamp, or spread blacktop once it has hardened. Hick says that on the second effort, the left side of the road here, looking at it from the downhill angle, they used a roller he's had for a while, bought from a local guy, that Hick used for flattening the ground. Like after the FedEx guy left ruts. But that this roller wasn't heavy enough. Being Hick, he decided that they need a better roller. Of course that's something he can design and construct.
The plan was to get a piece of pipe, fill it with leftover concrete from the floor of the new Freight Container Garage, make a frame for it, and VOILA! A road roller to pull behind Hick's tractor. His newest one, from that MoDOT auction, the blue New Holland. I figured that out, because he made sure to spray paint the frame and roller to match the tractor. And it ain't green like the John Deere.
For those of you interested in Hick's fiddlings, I'll document his roller construction.
That's Hick's pipe. He got if from a general contractor who had done work for him for years at his factory. It's a steel pipe, 72 inches long, 20 inch diameter, and 1/4 inch thick. Hick got it for free, due to his connections, but it would have cost somebody else $300-$400.
There's the frame, laid out in the BARn. The tongue came from his old roller, and the metal was scrap that he had laying around. He welded it together with the help of HOS.
There it is, welded, with more of Hick's treasures on display behind it.
Of course Hick couldn't be seen tooling around our enclave pulling a junky roller, so he used some paint he'd kept from when he worked at his OLD employer. The one back when we first got married. Before Genius was even on the horizon. Hick is not one to throw anything away.
Hick stood the pipe on end, and when the concrete workers were done pouring the Freight Container Garage floor, they poured the excess in the pipe.
Here's the finished product. Hick spent $40 on bearings. Not that I know what they are. Hick says that's what makes the roller roll. So that's all the money he has in this little project. Too bad it was too late to use on the hill I travel down every day. But they used it yesterday on HOS's hill when Buddy got another load of blacktop.
Here's the master craftsman, posing with his completed project. It was a happy accident that I caught Hick and HOS giving the roller a test run, across the front yard/field, as I was headed to town. HOS was riding on the frame of the roller, and stepped off to take some pictures for himself.
Hick says it worked great, but that if he had it to do over...he might have used a shorter pipe, with a greater diameter. For more weight, and less surface area. Look for a new roller, coming (hopefully not too) soon.
When we last critiqued the roads that Hick (and Buddy) built, they left a little to be desired. They had paved one side of the gravel road hill, and since I
The plan was to get a piece of pipe, fill it with leftover concrete from the floor of the new Freight Container Garage, make a frame for it, and VOILA! A road roller to pull behind Hick's tractor. His newest one, from that MoDOT auction, the blue New Holland. I figured that out, because he made sure to spray paint the frame and roller to match the tractor. And it ain't green like the John Deere.
For those of you interested in Hick's fiddlings, I'll document his roller construction.
That's Hick's pipe. He got if from a general contractor who had done work for him for years at his factory. It's a steel pipe, 72 inches long, 20 inch diameter, and 1/4 inch thick. Hick got it for free, due to his connections, but it would have cost somebody else $300-$400.
There's the frame, laid out in the BARn. The tongue came from his old roller, and the metal was scrap that he had laying around. He welded it together with the help of HOS.
There it is, welded, with more of Hick's treasures on display behind it.
Of course Hick couldn't be seen tooling around our enclave pulling a junky roller, so he used some paint he'd kept from when he worked at his OLD employer. The one back when we first got married. Before Genius was even on the horizon. Hick is not one to throw anything away.
Hick stood the pipe on end, and when the concrete workers were done pouring the Freight Container Garage floor, they poured the excess in the pipe.
Here's the finished product. Hick spent $40 on bearings. Not that I know what they are. Hick says that's what makes the roller roll. So that's all the money he has in this little project. Too bad it was too late to use on the hill I travel down every day. But they used it yesterday on HOS's hill when Buddy got another load of blacktop.
Here's the master craftsman, posing with his completed project. It was a happy accident that I caught Hick and HOS giving the roller a test run, across the front yard/field, as I was headed to town. HOS was riding on the frame of the roller, and stepped off to take some pictures for himself.
Hick says it worked great, but that if he had it to do over...he might have used a shorter pipe, with a greater diameter. For more weight, and less surface area. Look for a new roller, coming (hopefully not too) soon.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Dumpster Totin'
A couple weeks ago, I was stirring up some supper for Hick (stop envisioning a witch over her cauldron) at the time I normally go out for a walk. It was really hot that day, and I told Hick I was taking the evening off. I had barely enough time to get the dumpster out to the end of the driveway before dark. I rounded the corner of the back porch just in time to see Hick walking through the front yard/field pulling the dumpster.
You know, that's just like Hick. Not the being sweet part, doing my handed-down job for me. The short cut part. Though I'm pretty sure taking a few extra steps up the curved driveway would be less work than pulling a loaded dumpster across a bumpy yard/field. Also, I'm pretty sure Hick took the dumpster himself to speed up the arrival of his supper.
The next week, I went out as normal to tote that dumpster to the end of the driveway. Hick was gone somewhere, but I wasn't expecting him to do it for me again. Lightning doesn't strike twice in Val Thevictorian's yard/field.
The dogs get all excited on dumpster day, yipping and jumping and biting the bejeebers out of each other's lip flaps. They didn't do that when Hick took the dumpster, because there wasn't that satisfying rumble and crunch of the dumpster wheels on the gravel. There must be some special audio frequency that gets them all hyped up, because I only see them act that way when Hick drives the Gator or I pull the dumpster.
Anyhoo...I tipped it over and grabbed the side of the handle with one hand. That's how I pull the dumpster. The Pony preferred the chariot/rickshaw method, where he reached back with two hands to pull it along behind his heels. Not me. I'm no contortionist.
DANG!
The dumpster was SO HEAVY! I know that one week we filled it to the top, where the lid would hardly flap shut, because we had the remains (minus my short fork) from Hick's Retirementpartypalooza. And even THAT week, the dumpster was not this heavy. Huh. Maybe I was weaker now. A couple weeks older, losing strength exponentially as I age. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe Hick mowed the gravel in the driveway again.
I swear, it felt like I was dragging that dumpster sideways! Like the wheels weren't even turning. I looked back, but they were. SO HEAVY! Like there was a body inside. I did not inspect the contents. Don't think I'm being overly dramatic. There WAS that headless body found in a septic tank not even a half mile up the gravel road.
This was like trying to move a football blocking sled, only by pulling it instead of pushing it. By the time I got to the end of the driveway, my hand was stiffened in a claw shape.
That's the final dumpster destination. I took this picture the next morning, on the way to town. I pulled off in the yard/field to take it out T-Hoe's window. You can see a sliver of his mirror there at the bottom. This is about 3/4 of the way up the driveway. I figured it's not a very good view of the dumpster, so I drove up closer and took another picture.
Apparently my behavior was suspicious. Jack and Juno and Copper Jack all came frolicking out the driveway to look up at me through the window. The neighbor's horse came around the cedar trees, and a SQUIRREL dashed across the feet of that horse. You can see it there, that dark streak. No wonder that horse doesn't get excited when bad, bad Jack goes under the fence and yips at it.
Anyhoo...the reason I took these dumpster pictures is because of a little information Hick revealed that morning.
"That dumpster was SO hard to pull! I don't know if something's wrong with the axle, or what. I thought I'd never get to the end of the driveway. My hand just now straightened out. Did you put rocks or something in there? Or junk from the BARn?"
"No. I didn't put nothin' in it this week."
"Well, if it's this hard next time, you're going to have to oil the wheels."
"Them wheels don't need oiled. It's a new dumpster."
Huh. I was not informed! But our old one DID have a cracked lid that pinched in the handle area. When Hick called his people and complained about it, they put on a new lid! Then a couple weeks later, I noticed when I brought it back down the driveway that there was a crack in the front of the main dumpster part. I don't know what those guys do to it. They don't hook it to a winch. They just lift the lid and reach down in and grab the bags.
No wonder it's so much heavier. The plastic is stronger. The wheels aren't broken in. I'll get used to my new load soon enough, I guess. I hope this one lasts 20 years like the last one.
You know, that's just like Hick. Not the being sweet part, doing my handed-down job for me. The short cut part. Though I'm pretty sure taking a few extra steps up the curved driveway would be less work than pulling a loaded dumpster across a bumpy yard/field. Also, I'm pretty sure Hick took the dumpster himself to speed up the arrival of his supper.
The next week, I went out as normal to tote that dumpster to the end of the driveway. Hick was gone somewhere, but I wasn't expecting him to do it for me again. Lightning doesn't strike twice in Val Thevictorian's yard/field.
The dogs get all excited on dumpster day, yipping and jumping and biting the bejeebers out of each other's lip flaps. They didn't do that when Hick took the dumpster, because there wasn't that satisfying rumble and crunch of the dumpster wheels on the gravel. There must be some special audio frequency that gets them all hyped up, because I only see them act that way when Hick drives the Gator or I pull the dumpster.
Anyhoo...I tipped it over and grabbed the side of the handle with one hand. That's how I pull the dumpster. The Pony preferred the chariot/rickshaw method, where he reached back with two hands to pull it along behind his heels. Not me. I'm no contortionist.
DANG!
The dumpster was SO HEAVY! I know that one week we filled it to the top, where the lid would hardly flap shut, because we had the remains (minus my short fork) from Hick's Retirementpartypalooza. And even THAT week, the dumpster was not this heavy. Huh. Maybe I was weaker now. A couple weeks older, losing strength exponentially as I age. Maybe I was just tired. Maybe Hick mowed the gravel in the driveway again.
I swear, it felt like I was dragging that dumpster sideways! Like the wheels weren't even turning. I looked back, but they were. SO HEAVY! Like there was a body inside. I did not inspect the contents. Don't think I'm being overly dramatic. There WAS that headless body found in a septic tank not even a half mile up the gravel road.
This was like trying to move a football blocking sled, only by pulling it instead of pushing it. By the time I got to the end of the driveway, my hand was stiffened in a claw shape.
That's the final dumpster destination. I took this picture the next morning, on the way to town. I pulled off in the yard/field to take it out T-Hoe's window. You can see a sliver of his mirror there at the bottom. This is about 3/4 of the way up the driveway. I figured it's not a very good view of the dumpster, so I drove up closer and took another picture.
Apparently my behavior was suspicious. Jack and Juno and Copper Jack all came frolicking out the driveway to look up at me through the window. The neighbor's horse came around the cedar trees, and a SQUIRREL dashed across the feet of that horse. You can see it there, that dark streak. No wonder that horse doesn't get excited when bad, bad Jack goes under the fence and yips at it.
Anyhoo...the reason I took these dumpster pictures is because of a little information Hick revealed that morning.
"That dumpster was SO hard to pull! I don't know if something's wrong with the axle, or what. I thought I'd never get to the end of the driveway. My hand just now straightened out. Did you put rocks or something in there? Or junk from the BARn?"
"No. I didn't put nothin' in it this week."
"Well, if it's this hard next time, you're going to have to oil the wheels."
"Them wheels don't need oiled. It's a new dumpster."
Huh. I was not informed! But our old one DID have a cracked lid that pinched in the handle area. When Hick called his people and complained about it, they put on a new lid! Then a couple weeks later, I noticed when I brought it back down the driveway that there was a crack in the front of the main dumpster part. I don't know what those guys do to it. They don't hook it to a winch. They just lift the lid and reach down in and grab the bags.
No wonder it's so much heavier. The plastic is stronger. The wheels aren't broken in. I'll get used to my new load soon enough, I guess. I hope this one lasts 20 years like the last one.
Monday, October 9, 2017
One For Me and Two For He
After much pointed requesting, and finally flat-out commanding...Hick found a letter opener for me at a flea market Sunday morning. Now I don't have to use a kitchen paring knife to open my mail.
It's a beauty! Looks to me like a little knife! It's sharp, too, but Hick swears that it's a letter opener. Looks like he took the picture of it on the hood of his Gator. I don't know if you can see all the detail, but it has a wooden handled, which is wrapped with wire to attach the blade. Hick found it at the big flea market by the casino, and it cost him $1, which I am NOT reimbursing him!
Don't worry that Hick is spending his junking money on me. He still has plenty to lavish on himself. Like THIS treat he picked up on Saturday.
It's a parking meter that he got at a yard sale over by the dead mouse smelling post office. It cost him $1. Who could turn down a parking meter for $1? I didn't ask him if it's full of quarters. Looks like he posed this one in the back of his TrailBlazer.
Hick's also proud of his new wardrobe addition, a pair of $5 overalls from the auction Friday.
The main selling point was the fact that they are ALREADY HEMMED to an inseam of 28". And the second bonus is that they're lined. So I guess they can be his winter overalls. Of course Hick calls them his "bibs". Looks like the bibs got posed on the trunk of the Toronado.
I don't covet Hick's treasures. But there IS one thing he found yesterday that makes me green with envy.
That's TWO QUARTERS! When we got home from the casino mid-afternoon, Hick went over to the BARn to putter around. He sent me this text:
"Two quarters laying in gravel by train shed"
Yep! On Shackytown Boulevard, on the main roadway in front of the Railroad Car shed and the Fishing Lair shed...he found these two quarters. That equals the amount I've found in pennies, and Hick found it all at once! PLUS, he has that penny he found in the freight container last week. How fair is THAT? Hick is one cent ahead of me in found money!
Oh, wait! I'm not counting my dimes and the two one-dollar bills that I found earlier this year. Whew! That's a relief. I'm still in the lead.
Plus...I got a letter opener for free.
It's a beauty! Looks to me like a little knife! It's sharp, too, but Hick swears that it's a letter opener. Looks like he took the picture of it on the hood of his Gator. I don't know if you can see all the detail, but it has a wooden handled, which is wrapped with wire to attach the blade. Hick found it at the big flea market by the casino, and it cost him $1, which I am NOT reimbursing him!
Don't worry that Hick is spending his junking money on me. He still has plenty to lavish on himself. Like THIS treat he picked up on Saturday.
It's a parking meter that he got at a yard sale over by the dead mouse smelling post office. It cost him $1. Who could turn down a parking meter for $1? I didn't ask him if it's full of quarters. Looks like he posed this one in the back of his TrailBlazer.
Hick's also proud of his new wardrobe addition, a pair of $5 overalls from the auction Friday.
The main selling point was the fact that they are ALREADY HEMMED to an inseam of 28". And the second bonus is that they're lined. So I guess they can be his winter overalls. Of course Hick calls them his "bibs". Looks like the bibs got posed on the trunk of the Toronado.
I don't covet Hick's treasures. But there IS one thing he found yesterday that makes me green with envy.
That's TWO QUARTERS! When we got home from the casino mid-afternoon, Hick went over to the BARn to putter around. He sent me this text:
"Two quarters laying in gravel by train shed"
Yep! On Shackytown Boulevard, on the main roadway in front of the Railroad Car shed and the Fishing Lair shed...he found these two quarters. That equals the amount I've found in pennies, and Hick found it all at once! PLUS, he has that penny he found in the freight container last week. How fair is THAT? Hick is one cent ahead of me in found money!
Oh, wait! I'm not counting my dimes and the two one-dollar bills that I found earlier this year. Whew! That's a relief. I'm still in the lead.
Plus...I got a letter opener for free.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
Sunset, Son Rise
Last Thursday, I enjoyed a spectacular sunset during my evening driveway walk.
Good thing I had taken my phone outside, as this magnificent display was not in the forecast. I had put my phone on the corner of the Gator, which Hick has taken to parking behind his 1980 Olds Toronado, almost under the carport roof. Hick was gone to a volleyball game, and I figured if I fell and broke a hip, I could probably drag myself back to the Gator and reach that phone, easier than I could drag myself up the steps, around the porch, and into the house.
On the first lap, I could see that the sun was preparing to set. When I made my second turnaround down by the Gator, the picture was ready for taking.
This was the best one. I figured it was pretty good for an old lady who can't see without her glasses, has no knowledge of how to compose a photo, and is using a hand-me-down Nexus of questionable age that replaced my former cell phone due to a dip in the toilet. So proud was I, in fact, that I sent the picture to Genius the next night, while I was snacking the dogs on the front porch after my walk.
"Sunset last night."
Of course, being Genius, he dutifully sent a response.
"This is what I saw in College Town."
Well. What do you say to THAT? I said all I could say:
"OK. You win."
Genius is pretty good at winning, as long as it's not sports we're talking about. Friday evening, he sent me a text.
"Just got off the phone with my recruiter. Asked for more salary compared to what I'm worth, and I got bumped from $ -- k to $ -- k [an increase of $3000], plus doubled my signing bonus to $ -- k. Gonna sign my offer tonight."
Yes. Our little Genius has a job waiting for him when he graduates in December.
Hick and I, in the sunset of our lives, are excited for the dawn of Genius's career.
Good thing I had taken my phone outside, as this magnificent display was not in the forecast. I had put my phone on the corner of the Gator, which Hick has taken to parking behind his 1980 Olds Toronado, almost under the carport roof. Hick was gone to a volleyball game, and I figured if I fell and broke a hip, I could probably drag myself back to the Gator and reach that phone, easier than I could drag myself up the steps, around the porch, and into the house.
On the first lap, I could see that the sun was preparing to set. When I made my second turnaround down by the Gator, the picture was ready for taking.
This was the best one. I figured it was pretty good for an old lady who can't see without her glasses, has no knowledge of how to compose a photo, and is using a hand-me-down Nexus of questionable age that replaced my former cell phone due to a dip in the toilet. So proud was I, in fact, that I sent the picture to Genius the next night, while I was snacking the dogs on the front porch after my walk.
"Sunset last night."
Of course, being Genius, he dutifully sent a response.
"This is what I saw in College Town."
Well. What do you say to THAT? I said all I could say:
"OK. You win."
Genius is pretty good at winning, as long as it's not sports we're talking about. Friday evening, he sent me a text.
"Just got off the phone with my recruiter. Asked for more salary compared to what I'm worth, and I got bumped from $ -- k to $ -- k [an increase of $3000], plus doubled my signing bonus to $ -- k. Gonna sign my offer tonight."
Yes. Our little Genius has a job waiting for him when he graduates in December.
Hick and I, in the sunset of our lives, are excited for the dawn of Genius's career.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Val Harvested a Bumper Crop This Week
My pennyillionaire fortune continues to grow!
On Wednesday, I gave you a mid-week update, whether you wanted it or not. I had found 4 pennies so far this week!
Thursday turned out to be a bountiful day for Val the Pennyfinder.
I had to take one of my less-preferred parking spots at Country Mart, due to other people not me having the nerve to park in my other spaces when they should have known I might decide to stop by. I would have parked on the end space, but I couldn't make a turn that sharp. Besides, there was another car pulling into the space directly across from it, and I thought they might pull on through. I hopped out and crossed the lot to go in the store. You can bet I had my eyes peeled for pennies, but none were evident.
When I came back out and started across the driving part of the parking lot, I saw a penny right in my path! I swear, it was NOT there when I went in! I was looking for one, you know, and I'd walked right over that area.
I had to stand in the driving lane to take this picture to include T-Hoe. Yes, there was a person in a car watching me, as well as the man in the big refrigerated milk truck that was getting ready to plow me over. It was a 2015. The penny. Not the milk truck.
At the gas station chicken store, I DID manage to snare my preferred parking spot by the building. On the way in, I was shocked to see ANOTHER penny waiting for me just before I got to the door.
Here's a little closer view, in case you can't make it out from the wide shot. And yes, there was a car parked to the right, just out of frame, with a person in the passenger seat watching me. I have no shame.
This penny was a 1990 version. Imagine my surprise when I met up with Hick to give him the lunch sandwiches I'd picked up for him in town, and he informed me that HOS had found a penny laying on the trailer that's been hooked up to Hick's truck for a couple of weeks, loaded down with a giant metal thing that's a car lifter thingy used in auto repair garages, until they unloaded it with the tractor this day.
Hick fished it out of his pocket. A 1992. No, it could not have been confused with a common Hick-pocket penny, because Hick dumps his pennies into his giant plastic red Coke bottle bank every night. And he had not yet made any purchases that day.
Nothing fell my way on Friday, but today, SATURDAY, fortune smiled on my proposed fortune again. I had to park around the corner at Orb K because all the front parking spaces were full. I scoped out the exterior and interior for pennies, but saw none.
On my way back to T-Hoe, I perused the lot where a couple of cars had left. What's THAT?
It was a penny, by cracky! A penny I almost missed! I stepped down off the sidewalk for a better look, and held my scratchers between my teeth so as to have both hands free for taking a picture. Yes, I was making a spectacle of myself once again. On the other side of that red car was a peninsula of sidewalk, with an idling pickup truck parked on the other side of it. The lady behind the wheel was giving me the eye. I don't think it was the stinkeye, but she had tinted windows, so I can't be sure. I'm hoping she just wrote about me on her blog tonight as a common run-of-the-mill weirdo.
See it there, by the line? What you might NOT see is the SECOND penny I almost missed, at the bottom left of that long gray spot in the middle of the parking space.
The one that caught my eye, a 1992.
And the one I saw by accident, while looking to see if anybody else was watching me, and didn't zoom in on enough, after picking up the first penny. But it's at the lower left of that big gray spot. A 2016.
So...this week, from Monday to Saturday, Val has found 8 pennies! Three on Monday, one on Wednesday, two on Thursday, and two on Saturday.
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Thursday gave me pennies #47 and 48. Today (Saturday) gave me #49 and 50.
I'm not counting the freight container penny found by Hick on Monday, nor the trailer penny found by HOS on Thursday, as part of my pennyillionaire total.
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On Wednesday, I gave you a mid-week update, whether you wanted it or not. I had found 4 pennies so far this week!
Thursday turned out to be a bountiful day for Val the Pennyfinder.
I had to take one of my less-preferred parking spots at Country Mart, due to other people not me having the nerve to park in my other spaces when they should have known I might decide to stop by. I would have parked on the end space, but I couldn't make a turn that sharp. Besides, there was another car pulling into the space directly across from it, and I thought they might pull on through. I hopped out and crossed the lot to go in the store. You can bet I had my eyes peeled for pennies, but none were evident.
When I came back out and started across the driving part of the parking lot, I saw a penny right in my path! I swear, it was NOT there when I went in! I was looking for one, you know, and I'd walked right over that area.
I had to stand in the driving lane to take this picture to include T-Hoe. Yes, there was a person in a car watching me, as well as the man in the big refrigerated milk truck that was getting ready to plow me over. It was a 2015. The penny. Not the milk truck.
At the gas station chicken store, I DID manage to snare my preferred parking spot by the building. On the way in, I was shocked to see ANOTHER penny waiting for me just before I got to the door.
Here's a little closer view, in case you can't make it out from the wide shot. And yes, there was a car parked to the right, just out of frame, with a person in the passenger seat watching me. I have no shame.
This penny was a 1990 version. Imagine my surprise when I met up with Hick to give him the lunch sandwiches I'd picked up for him in town, and he informed me that HOS had found a penny laying on the trailer that's been hooked up to Hick's truck for a couple of weeks, loaded down with a giant metal thing that's a car lifter thingy used in auto repair garages, until they unloaded it with the tractor this day.
Hick fished it out of his pocket. A 1992. No, it could not have been confused with a common Hick-pocket penny, because Hick dumps his pennies into his giant plastic red Coke bottle bank every night. And he had not yet made any purchases that day.
Nothing fell my way on Friday, but today, SATURDAY, fortune smiled on my proposed fortune again. I had to park around the corner at Orb K because all the front parking spaces were full. I scoped out the exterior and interior for pennies, but saw none.
On my way back to T-Hoe, I perused the lot where a couple of cars had left. What's THAT?
It was a penny, by cracky! A penny I almost missed! I stepped down off the sidewalk for a better look, and held my scratchers between my teeth so as to have both hands free for taking a picture. Yes, I was making a spectacle of myself once again. On the other side of that red car was a peninsula of sidewalk, with an idling pickup truck parked on the other side of it. The lady behind the wheel was giving me the eye. I don't think it was the stinkeye, but she had tinted windows, so I can't be sure. I'm hoping she just wrote about me on her blog tonight as a common run-of-the-mill weirdo.
See it there, by the line? What you might NOT see is the SECOND penny I almost missed, at the bottom left of that long gray spot in the middle of the parking space.
The one that caught my eye, a 1992.
And the one I saw by accident, while looking to see if anybody else was watching me, and didn't zoom in on enough, after picking up the first penny. But it's at the lower left of that big gray spot. A 2016.
So...this week, from Monday to Saturday, Val has found 8 pennies! Three on Monday, one on Wednesday, two on Thursday, and two on Saturday.
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Thursday gave me pennies #47 and 48. Today (Saturday) gave me #49 and 50.
I'm not counting the freight container penny found by Hick on Monday, nor the trailer penny found by HOS on Thursday, as part of my pennyillionaire total.
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Friday, October 6, 2017
Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday #79 "Stinker Sailor Folgers Spy"
Blog buddy Sioux is hosting Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday.
I have 150 words to convince you to fake-buy my fake book. Do you enjoy a tale of intrigue? A story of a screw-up who becomes a hero? A good double-cross? If so, this week's fake book might be just what you're looking for. IF you think two out three ain't bad. It's no secret that Val churns out these fake books at an alarming rate. If she were the type of author who titles her books alphabetically...she would be on her third alphabet by now. Don't miss a single fake book! Pre-order Val's latest lackadaisical effort today!
Jason Jack Flint, code name "The Albatross," joined the CIA reluctantly. His father's stellar career made him a legacy. First trying his hand as a deodorant tester, then a merchant marine, then a coffee taster, JJ could not find a career that fit. Now, as an intelligence agent, JJ realizes he's in over his head.
For months JJ has posed as a homeless man in an unnamed foreign city. He sneaks into an abandoned warehouse each week, the perfect surveillance location for watching high-level operatives come and go in the building across the street. Unfortunately, the counterspies are onto JJ. Too late, he realizes they have coated the window pane with superglue. Nobody knows his identity. Nobody knows where he is. Unable to reach his predetermined data drop point three days ago, JJ waits. Will anyone miss JJ? Or will he become one of the agents who simply disappear forever? (150 words)
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La Brea Tar Pits..."Every now and then, buried under the muck, you find a shining treasure like a dragonfly encased in amber. Thevictorian's fake book is NOT one of these treasures, and should remain buried for eternity."
Catchmaster Glue Trap..."Don't be lured in by Thevictorian's book blurb! You'll regret it! Stick to your guns and avoid this fake author like the rat she it. This fake book will make you want to gnaw off your hand for shelling out the purchase price."
The Rolling Stones..."This fake book is not as sweet as brown sugar. Or any sugar at all. Thevictorian's manner of stringing together words is as shockingly inappropriate as our Sticky Fingers album cover."
Warrant..."Like everybody knows we are not actually singing about sweet cherry pie...what Thevictorian does is not actually writing. Write it in the kitchen, write it in the hall, write it in your basement lair if you have the gall. Write it like a pro, write it like a champ, you ain't foolin' no one, you no-talent scamp!"
Sugar Ray Leonard..."Thevictorian is going to take a beatin' on this one. I'll pull no punches. She writes like she has suffered one too many concussions."
Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins..."Not even a spoonful of sugar could help you stomach this fake book! In fact, I think it should have a Mr. YUK sticker on the cover as a warning."
Honey..."Thevictorian's writing just did not crystallize for me. You could leave one of her fake books in a mummy's tomb, and it would be safe to take out hundreds of years later...because STILL nobody would read it.'"
Childhood Saying..."I'm rubber, Val's a burr. Your bad reviews bounce off me and stick to her! You'd think she had no more room for anything to stick to her by now, on this, her 79th fake book."
Stinker Sailor Folgers Spy
Jason Jack Flint, code name "The Albatross," joined the CIA reluctantly. His father's stellar career made him a legacy. First trying his hand as a deodorant tester, then a merchant marine, then a coffee taster, JJ could not find a career that fit. Now, as an intelligence agent, JJ realizes he's in over his head.
For months JJ has posed as a homeless man in an unnamed foreign city. He sneaks into an abandoned warehouse each week, the perfect surveillance location for watching high-level operatives come and go in the building across the street. Unfortunately, the counterspies are onto JJ. Too late, he realizes they have coated the window pane with superglue. Nobody knows his identity. Nobody knows where he is. Unable to reach his predetermined data drop point three days ago, JJ waits. Will anyone miss JJ? Or will he become one of the agents who simply disappear forever? (150 words)
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Fake Reviews
for Val’s Fake Book
La Brea Tar Pits..."Every now and then, buried under the muck, you find a shining treasure like a dragonfly encased in amber. Thevictorian's fake book is NOT one of these treasures, and should remain buried for eternity."
Catchmaster Glue Trap..."Don't be lured in by Thevictorian's book blurb! You'll regret it! Stick to your guns and avoid this fake author like the rat she it. This fake book will make you want to gnaw off your hand for shelling out the purchase price."
The Rolling Stones..."This fake book is not as sweet as brown sugar. Or any sugar at all. Thevictorian's manner of stringing together words is as shockingly inappropriate as our Sticky Fingers album cover."
Warrant..."Like everybody knows we are not actually singing about sweet cherry pie...what Thevictorian does is not actually writing. Write it in the kitchen, write it in the hall, write it in your basement lair if you have the gall. Write it like a pro, write it like a champ, you ain't foolin' no one, you no-talent scamp!"
Sugar Ray Leonard..."Thevictorian is going to take a beatin' on this one. I'll pull no punches. She writes like she has suffered one too many concussions."
Julie Andrews as Mary Poppins..."Not even a spoonful of sugar could help you stomach this fake book! In fact, I think it should have a Mr. YUK sticker on the cover as a warning."
Honey..."Thevictorian's writing just did not crystallize for me. You could leave one of her fake books in a mummy's tomb, and it would be safe to take out hundreds of years later...because STILL nobody would read it.'"
Childhood Saying..."I'm rubber, Val's a burr. Your bad reviews bounce off me and stick to her! You'd think she had no more room for anything to stick to her by now, on this, her 79th fake book."
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