Vally Put the Cauldron On

For those of you who wanted to see what kind of cauldron cast iron pot Hick had a chance to buy in a lot of farmhouse auction stuff for $800...

Here's Hick's own personal pot. He hasn't tended his rock garden in a while. I think he used to have a ceramic bunny sitting inside that cauldron many years ago. The neighbor's dog at that time, Penny, a yellow lab, had a habit of helping herself to Hick's outdoor gewgaws. She'd take them home and put them on her own porch, then her human mom would bring them back on the 4-wheeler and leave them on the corner of our porch. It was an almost daily occurrence. Looks like Penny won. I'm pretty sure Penny has gone to live on a special farm in the country by now.

There's the view from the other side. My grandma (Dad's side) had a huge rock collection. She made her own jewelry, too. Not from rocks this big! She gave Hick a lot of rocks that were just sitting on homemade racks along the back of her house. He's got a good piece of petrified wood, too, but I think it's across the brick sidewalk. That stump is real wood. I think it used to have a ceramic turtle perched on it. Alas, this is what happens when Hick doesn't tend his rock garden.

Anyhoo...Hick ran into the Farmhouse Collection seller the other day, and he said, "I got rid of my farmhouse cast iron stuff. Sold it to a guy for $550!"

Hick was just a little bit put-out by that statement. "Huh. I would have given you that! I wish I'd known."

"I offered it to you, but you didn't want to spend that much."

"No. You offered it to me for $800. I didn't have that kind of money. But I had $550!"

"Oh. I thought I told you $550. I have to make a little money off of it, you know."

"Yeah. Next time let me know if you're gonna lower your price!"

Hick was feeling betrayed, but he wasn't gonna burn any bridges. You never know when the next batch of cast iron cauldrons will come along.

Antipennyites Will Be Turned Away at the Gate

No. There's not an actual gate. Antipennyites are free to browse here. But none of those protest signs, or chants like, "Two, four, six, eight. Reading about pennies is what we hate!"

I have one of my own for you, "On November 6 and 8, Val found pennies, mark the date!"

Monday was November 6. I've been scouring the countryside (more like blacktop parking lot-side) for pennies. They have not been forthcoming! I might as well be panning for gold, for all the luck I've had. Maybe I'm trying to hard. They tend to hit when you least expect it. Unless these are pity pennies. Like when Hick put a golf ball in the old broody hen's nest so she'd have something to sit on.

Monday, November 6, I stopped by Orb K. I parked way around at the end, in the next-to farthest parking spot. That's because the farthest one was occupied. I surveyed to empty space on my left as I got out. Checked the sidewalk, and grassy area, and even under the cars as far as I could see. No, I didn't bend over. What do you think I am, some kind of weirdo? I didn't want to attract attention to my quest.

I came out after trading winning scratchers for fresh ones, thinking, "I can't believe I haven't found a penny in so long!" October 26th, to be exact. I walked to the end of the sidewalk where it makes a 90-degree left turn. Turned. Walked past the three cars parked there, and SAW A PENNY on the sidewalk by the last car before T-Hoe!

I swear it wasn't there when I went in! I would have seen it. That penny was right at the beginning of my search.

At least I saw it on the way back. I scooped it up and dropped it in my shirt pocket, then went over to T-Hoe and pulled the door open. WAIT A MINUTE!

Was that...could it be...another penny? Yep! If I'd stood behind T-Hoe's door to open it as usual, I never would have seen this one. But since I pulled it open as if to allow somebody else to enter, my stance was open to glancing at this car beside me again.

I really don't know how I could have missed them on the way in. It's not like the sun was shining and the glint tipped me off. They were BOTH from 1975. In November 1975, I was a senior in high school.

I was careful not to look too creeperish as I moved in to take the closeup. People don't cotton to weirdos taking pictures of their cars, you know. Or bending over and reaching for something. Like a penny. That I put in my pants pocket, to distinguish it from the other penny, until I got a magnifying glass to check the dates. Maybe I need to update my glasses.

Let the record show that the trash under T-Hoe does not belong to Val! I often pick up trash and carry it to dispose of on the way in. I do draw the line at semi-crawling under a car to do so. To rescue a found penny, yes! But not to pick up trash that's not mine.

On Wednesday, November 8, I was back at Orb K. Of course my penny-senses were tingling. Orb K has been a good hunting ground (better yet, a good FINDING ground) for pennies. I parked in the very last space this time. I walked down that sidewalk, practically inspecting that field of penny dreams with a magnifying glass taped to a fine-tooth comb, but not yet to the point of a metal detector. NOTHING!

I was pleasantly surprised to find a Young Gen-Xer holding the door open for me! And even more pleasantly surprised to find...

This penny on the floor by the snack cake rack!

I took a picture and nabbed this little copper gem for my own. It was a 2002. No meaning in that year for me.
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These were pennies #54, 55, and 56 for my collection.
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Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday #84 "Awtum was Her Name-O"

Blog buddy Sioux is hosting Back-of-the-Book-Blurb Friday. I have 150 words to convince you to fake-buy my fake book. This week, Val brings you the biography of a youngster who surely has several more books in her. That's fake-book longevity for Val! Fake-read about this living doll and her skyrocketing career in song-and-dance. She's wise beyond her years, and has already offered Val some marketing tips for her next fake book. You can get the next one (title as yet unknown) for half price if you fake-buy this week's fake book!

Awtum was Her Name-O

Awtum Leeves is AWESOME! She's a tap-dancing dynamo in high demand at fall festivals. From the day she was born, to a solid round of  "Aw..." from those in attendance, Awtum's mother knew she was destined for greatness. Awtum's tiny feet tapped out a rhythm before she even left the womb. Now she's on the road to stardom.

Awtum is sweeter than a Sugar Maple, and more colorful than a Rainbow Eucalyptus. She thrives in the spotlight, and has taken up deforestation as her cause. Will Awtum's campaign to save the forests attract the ire of loggers and construction contractors? Has her high profile put her safety out on a limb? (110 words)

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Fake Reviews for Val’s Fake Book

A Tree, falling in the forest with no one there..."Listen! Listen to me! Can anybody hear me? Thevictorian must be whacked before she wastes any more trees for these blighted fake books of hers!" 

Bonsai Tree..."This author is stunted, with little writing talent. No amount of editing can shape her work into anything resembling beauty."

Quaking Aspen..."Shiver me timbers! This fake book makes me pale at the though of this fake author producing another such atrocity."

A Tannenbaum..."My lovely branches are certainly not green with envy over this fake author's fake book. Her editor didn't do enough chopping, I fear."

Hemlock Tree..."A tea made from my leaves is perfectly safe. Just ask Wikipedia! You'll certainly find better quality writing there than on the fake pages of Thevictorian's fake book. Anybody want a few of my leaves to make that tea for Thevictorian? As a goodwill gesture, of course. Even a hack needs to hydrate. I bear her no ill will for poisoning the pool of fake book writers."

Weeping Willow..."Alas, if only I could shed real tears of sympathy for anyone who fake-read this fake book!"

Oak Tree..."I'd give my left acorn to never hear of Thevictorian again!"

Sycamore Tree..."Too many reviewers try to sound as if this fake author is actually readable. I, for one, have the balls to throw shade, to be the hatchet man, and announce that Thevictorian needs to make like a tree and leaf the literary world!"

Hick Probably Sees the Glass as Half FULL, Too

When I opened up the shades Tuesday morning, I found a surprise.

Monday night, I heard the dogs going crazy. They do that a lot. I'm pretty sure they sleep all day, then go looking for trouble at night. I used to fear that somebody was breaking into the garage to steal my loose change out of T-Hoe. Or walking around on the porch trying to look in the house. Or stealing Hick's tools out of the BARn.

After many restless nights of getting out of bed to look outside, I gave up on my wolf-crying mutts. They rarely bark when strangers come up the driveway. So it seems odd that they would be so protective once the sun goes down. I figured maybe there was some kind of animal roaming around that got them stirred up.

When I saw this out front beside the driveway, I thought Hick had something to do with it.

Last week, Hick had mentioned taking a bunch of stuff up to the auction to sell. I thought he took his trailer, and had unhitched it along the driveway sometime on Monday. There's never any rhyme nor reason to Hick's junking timetable. For all I knew, he had been gathering other stuff, or had taken it to his storage shed, and had just decided to unhook that trailer. Sure, it's usually in the BAR field. But maybe it was getting late, and he didn't want to go over there with it being pretty dark.

Hick sent me a text mid-morning to say that his trailer was along the driveway. I meant to take a picture of it sitting there, but by the time I left home, Hick had already hitched it up to the tractor and driven it back over to the BARn. He said HE didn't put it there, and didn't even know it was there until he got up and went outside Tuesday morning.

Further questioning revealed that Hick had loaned his trailer to a relative of a relative. The guy had been there and hooked it up, over by the BARn, so he knew where it came from and how to get there. He had brought it back without warning, and left it by the driveway after dark. I don't know if I was more surprised by that "loaning" situation, or the fact that Hick had moved the trailer back to the field in such a timely manner that I didn't even get my picture.

Hick didn't see anything wrong with that scenario. I probably would have asked for some collateral if I was loaning MY trailer. Which I don't have. Hick is more lax in his standards. More trusting.

Heck. I even asked for a shoe when I loaned a student a pencil.

Desk Mask and a Bitter Pill to Swallow

We'll get to yesterday's mystery photo at the end. But first, let's give Hick the spotlight again with his "collector's items" that he brought home yesterday. I'm not quite sure where they came from. I could swear Hick told me he was going to Ceilingred's to pick up his new old school desk.

I didn't even know they sold school desks there!

There it is, in the back of Hick's truck, parked along Shackytown Main Street. He's going to try to sell it at his storage shed store, but of course he said, "If it don't sell, I can always put it in my schoolhouse shed if I ever finish it."

Hick, such a selfless fellow. Not only was he thinking of sharing this prime specimen of student seating with his fellow marketers...he was also thinking of The Pony. Here's what he got for The Pony's Knife Shack.

Yeah, it's kind of out-of-focus, but I can only work with what Hick gives me. Let the record show that The Pony does not collect these masks, but that Hick already had a couple of them, and put them in that shack. I asked if he'd informed The Pony of these recent additions, and Hick assured me that he had. And that The Pony replied:

"That's kind of creepy."

It's hard to out-creep The Pony, shown here several years ago.

Yes. The Pony doesn't collect masks, but is not averse to modeling them.

Okay. Now we come to the burning question, "What IS that mystery photo item from yesterday?"

Here's another view:

It's a FLOOR PILL!

Yes. More specifically, a fish oil pill found under Val's heel after her morning shower, as she walked across the green tile floor of the master bathroom. My Genius hand-me-down phone does funny things with light when I attempt an indoor photo. This one is the same pill, laying on the cream-colored counter around the sink. The white spots are the reflection of part of the row of 8 lights above the sink, like those found around a Vegas showgirl's makeup mirror. Not that I've ever been in the dressing room of a Vegas showgirl, of course.

You can bet that I laid that fish oil pill right there and left it for Hick to find. Surely he won't mind swallowing a pill that was almost stuck to Val's heel! It was a clean heel, right out of the shower, you know...

Mystery Photo, November 7, 2017

Here's a little challenge for you. I like to think that I'm doing a good deed, stimulating your mind, to keep it active through your dotage. Don't worry about running out to buy Sudoku books, or the New York Times crossword puzzle. You can still play along with Jeopardy, though.

I'm branching out from the parking lot pennies (another one's coming up!) to provide a new image for you to decipher. Again, I apologize for that time the penny was nowhere in the photo. That was not intentional!

Are you ready? Get your glasses if you use them. Make sure you have proper lighting. Put on your thinking cap. Here it comes...

What do you make of THIS?

I don't mean to plant suggestions. Do you have one in your house? Does this call for an exterminator? Is it animal, vegetable, or mineral? Do you wish you had one? Can Hick sell it at his storage shed store? Would those Antiques Roadshow twins come a-runnin' to examine it? Should Jack and my Sweet, Sweet Juno be vaccinated against it? Does it thrive in my dark basement lair? Would people cut line in a convenience store to get the last one? Would kids be sent home from school if caught with it, and not allowed to return until they used a special shampoo? Is it looking back at you? Is it undergoing mitosis? Would it implant itself in Sigourney Weaver to be transported to another planet?

Maybe I'm not fooling anyone. Maybe you'll all know exactly what it is. You can guess in the comments, or declare for a fact. Be specific, in case there's a tie for the non-prize.

NO PRIZES!

I'll reveal the answer tomorrow.

Is Hick a Shady Businessman?

As you recall, Hick has become a flea market marketer, and now an auction seller as well as a buyer. Most of the stuff he's selling are things that he has picked up over the years. Some of it belongs to me and my sister the ex-mayor's wife, having been cleaned out of my mom's house, and not donated to the local ministerial alliance thrift store. We were pretty sure Mom would have wanted her stuff to actually help people and not become profits for Goodwill. As far as profits for Hick...I think she wouldn't have begrudged him making a buck (or 20% of each buck) for himself, on the items not suited for a crowded thrift store.

That's the deal we have. Hick does all the work, and takes 20% of the profit as a sellers fee. I'm fine with that. Today he was going through stuff from Mom's house, and said he found two bags of clothes.

"I thought we donated all the clothes. Your dad's suits, and your mom's coats and skirts and dresses and some shoes. But this was stuff that didn't look like your mom's. I found a pair of Wrangler jeans shorts. SHORT shorts! I doubt your mom would have been the one wearing them!"

"Wait a minute! Did they have fringe?"

"Yeah. They were all frayed. And they were THIS short!" Hick motioned a cut like a bikini.

"Oh, come on! They weren't THAT short!"

"I don't know WHO would have worn them...unless you and The Pony carried them home when you were cleaning out your old room."

"Yeah. We brought home some bags of stuff. I guess you put all of that in the same place."

"I found a bag of sweaters, too. I don't think I could sell them. I might take them up to the auction and sell them in a lot with some other stuff."

"That's fine. But Sis doesn't need to get a cut of THAT action! Those were MY clothes. She cleaned out her own room." Hick was agreeable with that. He would never let Sis get even one cent more than I got, and especially not give her part of my proceeds. Hick and Sis are kind of the same about money, when it comes to how much Sis and I are entitled to.

"I don't wanna screw you guys. But the auction charges 20%, and I'm going to take my 20%, and that means 40% is coming off, so you won't make much."

"I don't care if you take 20% of the profit."

See? Val is reasonable about the proceeds of her old junk. But Hick will pull a fast one if she lets him.

He took some other clothes to sell at his flea market storage shed. Clothes that do not fit Val any more. Clothes that were purchased, but were TOO BIG when the season rolled around to wear them. Clothes still in the packaging, but with no receipt.

When that storage shed store was still just a glimmer in Hick's eye, I told him he could sell those clothes. And he did, the first day he put them out, for $185. Let the record show that I was not expecting the whole $185. Hick gets his cut, after all. But Hick wanted THE ENTIRE PROFIT! Claiming that they were purchased with OUR money, so he should get all of it. How does THAT work? Bought with OUR money, yet I get NOTHING!

Just to be a contrarian about it, with him trying to pull a fast one on me, I insisted that those were MY clothes, and all he should get was the 20% seller's fee. Thing is, my mom used to give me and Sis some new-clothes money every fall, when it was back-to-school time. Sometimes I spent it right then, sometimes I waited for a sale, or sometimes I waited to get more seasonal outfits, depending on what was in my wardrobe. So chances are that these clothes were purchased with that money, and not household money. Hick and I rarely buy new clothes for ourselves, most of that allowance going to drape the boys in gladrags for school and college.

Anyhoo...Hick was okay with that. Because my argument made sense to him.

Here is where Hick completely lost his senses. He has junk buddies who also sell online. Hick is computer literate, but now that he's not at work, he has no computer, and uses his phone. Even though I offered to let him use my laptop, Shiba.

Hick had other ideas. He already has an eBay account, but that's from buying. It shouldn't be a problem to set up a seller's account. Which he thinks I can do for him. And run things from the online end. I figure it's probably not that hard, since he plans to only do the BUY IT NOW sales, so that I don't have to watch it constantly. He even said he would take the items to the post office and ship them. All I'd have to do would be list his merchandise, and give him the info on the buyers.

"Okay. I'm pretty sure I can do that for you. And I'll take 20%."

"Ha, ha! Yeah, right!" Hick was really serious about this being a joke.

"I don't know why you're laughing. That's only fair, right? If I'm doing the work of listing your items online, then I should get a 20% seller's fee."

"Oh...well...yeah, I guess I can do that."

See how he is? That old gander better realize that this goose is taking 20% if she does any of the work. Fair is fair. I haven't even asked him for a cut (and don't plan to) of the household items he's probably showcasing with his wares, without telling me, even though they were bought with OUR money...