Nothing Is Certain But Death and Taxes. And Jury Duty. (PART 1)

I can't begin to describe my despair last Friday when Hick brought in the mail, and handed me an envelope from The Clerk of the Circuit Court.

"Oh, no! What could THIS be???"

"I'm guessing it's for jury duty. I kept looking for an envelope for ME, too."

"I can't do jury duty! Why do I always get a notice? You've NEVER done jury duty!"

"Yes I did. In St. Louis, U.S. District Court. Possession of a firearm by a convicted felon."

"That was before I even met you! And we've been married for 33 years!"

"I'd love to do jury duty. I think it's interesting."

"My last time wasn't. Just that stupid Eminent Domain stuff, about a property that was a gas station, being taken by the state as highway right-of-way."

"I wouldn't mind it."

"I CAN'T do jury duty! I can't walk from the parking lot behind the annex. I don't know if the courthouse ever got the elevator fixed. I can't climb to the 3rd or 4th floor. I can't stand around and wait with 199 other prospective jurors, to be let into the courtroom and shuffled 10 to a pew to sit and listen to instructions and questions. I won't be able to get up and go to the bathroom every 90 minutes! Besides, the bathroom is in the back hallway by the judge's chambers. It's up a big step, and there are NO handles to help me abdicate the throne! It's IMPOSSIBLE for me to do jury duty now!"

"Well. Maybe you can get a doctor's note."

I read through the letter. The ONLY excuse would have to be a doctor's excuse. I only had 10 days from receipt of the letter to respond through an online questionnaire. Of course I got it on a Friday. So there were two days gone already, waiting for the weekend to pass.

Monday morning, I called my doctor's (Nurse Practitioner's) office. You have to go through the switchboard, and ask for your specific office. At least I got a real person. Who was the RUDEST WOMAN EVER TO ANSWER A PHONE!

She kind of "uh-huh-ed" and "mmm-hmm-ed" me with one vocal cord while listening with one ear. Made me feel like I was asking for refills too soon on a Schedule 4 narcotic. In the end, she said, "Well, I guess I can ask him."

"How will I know? Should I call back?"

"You can."

"How long should I wait?"

"Well, since it's not for a prescription, it will probably be 2-3 days before he looks at it."

"So I should call back in about 3 days?"

"You can..."

What in the NOT-HEAVEN? Did she not listen when I said I needed the info in 10 days so I could fill out my questionnaire and NOT HAVE A SUMMONS ISSUED FOR MY ARREST?

TO BE CONTINUED...

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Jury duty is not like a trip to the casino, where I can get dropped off at the door, walk a bit with a cane, then sit down to rest on a cushy stool until I'm ready to walk some more. Nor can I go to a (handicap) bathroom whenever I need to. I am differently-abled than I was when I last served on a jury in 2005. If those conditions could be met, then I would have no problem showing up and hanging around every time I got a notice, to see if I might be picked. I just can't do it now.

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Another COINucopia For Val This Week

The Liquor Store is keeping Val in business.

SUNDAY, June 5, I stopped at the Liquor Store for scratchers. There was a line when I entered, so I had to find room to stand on the first aisle. Good thing I did!

 

Even Steven had provided me with a penny! How fitting that is was waiting next to a big box of lottery draw-ticket forms!

 

It was a face-down 2013 penny, shown here on the nicely-focused tile floor.

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TUESDAY, June 7, I was back at the Liquor Store. I was meant to be there! Waiting outside the front door was another penny. I'm surprised there wasn't a cardboard sign out by the road with a message: VAL, We Have Your Penny!

 

It was almost jumping up and down, waving its non-existent arms to get my attention!

 

This was a shiny, though dirty, face-down 2021 penny.

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Forget about the Liquor Store! The best source for Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune is the School-Turn Casey's!

THURSDAY, June 9, it was my second stop on Errand Day. For scratchers, of course! Some yayhoo was parked cattywompus in my favorite spot, so I had to park parallel to him at the end of the store. Coming out, I made a fantastic discovery:

 

It was a QUARTER! Whoop-ti-do!

It was a face-down 1999 Connecticut quarter. I nabbed it for my shirt pocket.

 

But wait! As I continued to T-Hoe, I made ANOTHER discovery!

 

 

THREE MORE PIECES OF SILVER!!!

 

It was a heads-up 1987 nickel, a face-down 2014 Florida quarter, and a heads-up old-style 1993 quarter! I hope that wonky parker thought I was taking a picture of his bad parking! Of course I was over-the-moon with my treasures. Little did I know...

That I was in for another treat when I got back to the Backroads Casey's!

 

Faithfully awaiting my arrival, which was a last-minute decision based on available parking...

 

... was a heads-up 2021 penny shining to get my attention. I was running out of pockets, so Abe got to ride with that first quarter in my shirt pocket.

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That's 7 COINS this week, for 83 CENTS towards Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune!

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2022 RUNNING TOTAL

Penny          # 47, 48, 49.
Dime            still at 8.
Nickel          # 3.
Quarter       # 3, 4, 5.

 

2021 FINAL TOTALS

Penny        124
Dime           14
Nickel           7
Quarter         6
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Money For Nothin' and They B!tch For Free

Hick has been doing work on a new (used) house bought by Back-Creek Neighbor Bev. It's quite some distance away from here, in a different middle of nowhere. He's getting paid by the hour, and he takes his old-man helper with him, paying him a portion of the wages. The guy is getting a free ride to work, after all, plus an hourly wage, same as Hick paid him to work on Pony House.

Anyhoo... there was a lot to be done to this property. Hick was there when the gas man came. He found out Wednesday that the gas man didn't do something right when he hooked something up. Bev heard hissing, and smelled gas, and went to a neighbor's house to call Hick and tell him. He drove all the way back out there and found the problem. And fixed it.

Wednesday, Bev had a new septic tank put in. But then she complained to Hick on Thursday that her toilet still didn't flush. Hick and his buddy dug it up, and saw that roots were blocking the pipe coming out of the house. So they chopped up the roots, added a piece of PVC pipe to that cast-iron pipe, and will pour in some concrete to hold everything in place.

"That stupid septic tank guy told her the tank wasn't filling up, but he just got the garden hose and filled it. He should have known something else was wrong."

"Oh, well. At least you got paid by the hour to fix his mistake."

"Yeah. But he got paid $6,900 to not even finish his job!"

Hick needs to start a new business, traveling around in a truck like Mr. Haney from Green Acres, with all kinds of supplies and equipment, selling his services instead of junk, to fix jobs that tradesmen have just done wrong!

Spare The Pony, Spoil the Internet

We've had intermittent thunderstorms Tuesday and Wednesday. They're not very intermittent when one hits. With a vengeance! Just my luck on Tuesday.

Hick was off in the middle of another nowhere, working on Back-Creek Neighbor Bev's new house. I don't know what his weather was like, but mine was not pleasant. I didn't get to bed until 5:30 a.m., trying to avoid the spraying of Hick's breather with his head-cold cooties. Around 9:30, I was awakened by thunder and lightning and pouring rain. We have a metal roof now, you know...

It slacked off after about an hour. By the time I got up at 11:30, the sun was shining! I sat down on the short couch for a few minutes, and noticed a black cloud hanging over the neighbors' horse field. It crept closer. And closer. Then all NOT-HEAVEN broke loose! Lightning, thunder, wind, sideways rain! It was pelting the front door, coming in under the four-foot span of roof.

Of course that killed the TV DISH reception. And I knew my internet would also be out, even though it has its own special satellite. At least I still had ELECTRICITY! I went to HIPPIE, my laptop, at the kitchen table, and played old-fashioned solitaire. Well. I guess truly old-fashioned solitaire would be with actual cards. Anyhoo... I was able to pass the time for 40 minutes until the services came back.

I was quite worried about The Pony being out in the elements, especially after his photos of fallen trees and sinkholes. His workplace is a dangerous gauntlet of hazards, even after surviving the bent stair rail descending from the loading dock, and the assorted inadequacies of the LLVs (Long Life Vehicles). We won't even talk about ankle-breaking sidewalks...

Anyhoo... I didn't want to bother The Pony in case he was driving, or trying to lie low and avoid being struck by lightning. So I didn't try to communicate until later in the evening. Just to make sure he had survived.

"Are you okay? We had some bad wind and rain here today."

"Yeah. I clocked out at 5:00, and I'm just finishing eating at Steak N Shake. Saw some thunder in your direction, but it never really went above a sprinkle while I was delivering."

I stopped myself from asking how he saw thunder.

"It was bright and sunny here. Saw this around 1:00 in your direction."

 

Looks like The Pony was in his LLV when he took this picture. I first thought it was a piece of gum on his windshield wiper, but upon zooming in, it looks like more of a berry. I hope The Pony wasn't off-roading in his LLV! That might be frowned upon.

 

"Lightning flashed a few times, and about twenty minutes later it started drizzling for a few hours. Was nice, it cooled the air down a lot."

I was relieved the weather was not a hardship for The Pony. I would gladly give up my internet to keep The Pony safe and dry during work!

She Shows Sad Sheds by the Creek Shore

No good deed goes unvandalized. 

Remember back in 2018, when HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) was living out here, and built a bus-waiting shack for some kids who lived about 1.5 miles up the gravel road from the bus stop? Used his own materials and paint. Nothing fancy. But a place for those kids to sit in and wait for the bus, out of the wind and rain and snow. Their parents left for work before they even started the walk to the bus stop.

 

 

That family has since moved. The kids here now are either driving age, or little tykes whose parents sit in the car and wait with them. So nobody has use for the Bus Shack. Then somebody shot out the end window, and Hick boarded it up.

 

 

Hick also put on a door, with a padlock, but then somebody bashed that off and left the door hanging.

 

 

Of course ne'er-do-wells have to find someplace to never do well. Over the past few months, somebody has broken off the door of the Bus Shack. And pretty much kicked the Not-Heaven out of it, one wall at a time. 

Sunday, I found THIS:

 

Hick had said, after the destruction escalated, that when he has his tractor back home, he was going to pick up that Bus Shack and bring it up to our place and do something with it. But mainly just get it off the side of the road, where it was a plaything for somebody's idle feet. Unfortunately, Hick is still using his tractor over at Pony House, to smooth gravel and move wood.

 

By now, Hick's best option might be to shove the Bus Shack out into the creek, set it on fire, and let it burn down to the water line. The creek is only a few inches deep. Then when the next big rain comes, it will wash the remains on down the creek, and out into the river. Way bigger tree trunks than those little planks have gone over the other low-water bridge.

I have my suspicions about who is doing this damage. I don't think it's somebody who's driving out from town on a regular basis for this destruction. I suspect it's somebody who lives up here, and has done a couple devious things in the past. Which is probably why the squeaky wheels out here who complain about the roads have not uttered one word about his eyesore down by the creek.

Sometimes NOT saying something says a lot.

Second Impressions

On the way to town Sunday afternoon, I passed a roadwalker. She was coming towards me on the county blacktop road, about a half-mile off the lettered county highway, heading towards the middle of nowhere. 

 

I had never seen her before, but I assumed she was out for an evening walk. She was carrying her cell phone, perhaps listening to music, or checking the time she had been walking. Curiously enough, her exercise attire was a tube-top sundress with wide horizontal pastel stripes. Not an outfit I would have chosen for a walk on a country road. I did not notice her shoes, since T-Hoe was past her by that time.

On to town I went. Did my business. Came back about an hour later. I crested the hill that leads down to Mailbox Row, in the area where Hick ran SilverRedO off in the snow on the day I was being sprung from my Unfortunate HospitVALzation, and saw Roadie headed down that hill, on the side facing traffic. She had traveled about a mile in the hour I was gone.

I briefly entertained the thought of asking if she needed a ride. Such unusual workout clothing, you know. My mind was working quickly. I hadn't seen a car off the road, as if she might have run out of gas. But she wouldn't be walking AWAY from town if that was the case, now would she? She had passed 11 occupied houses in that time. Just in case she didn't have cell reception, and might have wanted to make a call.

Then my eye landed on the back of her right shoulder. Which showcased a giant dragon tattoo. Nope. Vroom-vroom went T-Hoe as I sped on by.

Not trying to judge a book by its cover, but I don't think her situation was something I wanted to involve myself in. I think it might have gone a little deeper than needing a dollar for whiskey or a vape.

The Nerve of People Being Nice

How DARE they! What is up with people bending over backward, twisting themselves into a pretzel, to pat themselves in the back for their NICENESS?

 

Okay. Maybe a few of them have the purest of intentions. Like myself, heh, heh, when I give a dollar to a 10:30 a.m. alcoholic without enough money for the smallest bottle of whiskey at the Gas Station Chicken Store, or a gal who was a few cents short for the cheapest vape at the Liquor Store. 

 

My problem yesterday was with a motorist who stopped dead in the drive lane of Save A Lot, to motion me across the road.

 

Here's the thing. I stepped out of T-Hoe, and was waiting for my knees to get their circulation going to minimize the stiffness from riding to town. Leaning against the side of T-Hoe, as I always do, until I felt safe to take some steps. BUT NO! Some Do-Goody-Four-Wheels had to hold up traffic until he caught my eye, and motion me across!

 

I was perfectly content to wait until the coast was clear, disrupting nobody's time. It was a sunny 83 degrees. It's not like rain was sluicing down, or an Alberta Clipper dropping the temperature like in that movie The Day After Tomorrow. 

 

Thanks to Do-Goody-Four-Wheels, I felt like I MUST cross the road right then. Hurriedly for me, because at my regular pace, I could imagine all the backed-up autos having their windows implode from the excessive intake of drivers' breath in order to sigh heavily. When I rush, I am not sure-footed. I fear that I may stub a toe and fall.

 

I do not like to be coerced into action to inflate someone else's sense of righteousness.

 

Yeah. I'm sure that driver was just being nice. He was probably a Boy Scout who helped old ladies across the road, whether they wanted to go or not.