Perhaps Val is Trying to be the Wrong -illionaire

I had to change my route to town this week. Due to excessive POOP here in Outer Backroads. Pretty sure I've mentioned before that a landowner on the way to town has contracted with the state prison system to take their poop. According to Hick, the poop has been treated, but it needs a final resting place. This guy has it delivered in large tank trucks, which spray it over his land. You can't see that area from the road. Nor smell anything. But you CAN see the poop trucks. A steady stream of poop trucks...

My trips to town come late in the day now. Usually between 3:30 and 5:00. All last week, I encountered poop trucks. There's really not much room to pass on our county blacktop road. I even try to avoid the school bus time, since I have to slow down and get my tires almost off the edge of the road, which has no shoulder. The poop trucks are even wider than a school bus. At least they seem to be. Hick would probably say that all vehicles are a standard width, able to fit on the roads.

Anyhoo... I only have about two miles or less of this county road to travel. Yet I've been encountering two or more poop trucks! One evening the giant long tanker poop truck had to pull over with several tires off to let the regular size tanker poop truck pass. I swear they talk to each other on the radio.

Saturday, I met two poop trucks on my way out, and two more on my way back home. All different styles and colors. So it wasn't the same two coming and going. I was fed up with poop trucks! I told Hick I'm taking an alternate route from now on. It will cost me two extra minutes each way. But I will not be squeezing past any poop trucks. 

Hick says they won't be doing this forever, but that right now, they operate all day long. Not just in the evenings. Maybe there's a poop truck season. That landowner guy is probably becoming a poopillionaire.

Animals Gonna Animal

Hick got home from Saturday's auction after dark. Of course I had the porch light on for him. When he came through the kitchen door, he issued a warning.

"I'm not tryin' to scare you or nothin', but you might watch when you get home from town. There was snakes on the sidewalk by the garage door. They was just black snakes, and they slithered away. But they might come back."

Well. Good to know. When we built the house, we found baby copperheads along the driveway area. Haven't seen one in many years. I'd like to think my little dog Jack would warn me of snakes. He's a yippy thing. Jack usually greets me by barking his fool head off as I pull T-Hoe into the garage. Then he stands by the front bumper, waiting for me to open the people door and let him out. So he'd get to the sidewalk snakes first.

Way back when Genius was five, and The Pony was two, they were playing in the side yard while Hick and I were doing something at the basement door. Our dog then, Grizzly, a half lab/half beagle, was romping around with them. He went over past the picnic table, in the area that later became the goat pen, and started barking his fool head off. Of course we went to investigate.

Hick found a big black snake slithering into a nest of baby rabbits. He grabbed a hoe out of his original little shacky work shed. He scooped up that 6-foot snake with the handle, and flung it down into the woods. Hick won't kill a black snake. They eat rodents. And baby rabbits...

Anyhoo... Grizzly stopped his barking and started wagging his tail. With the excitement over, we started back to the backyard area. Then we heard Genius holler:

"Dad! Grizzly is eating the baby rabbits!"

Mother Nature is a harsh taskmistress. 

A Case of Holdin' Identity

As usual on errand day, I stopped by the bank to withdraw our weekly cash allowance. I always do my business at the drive-thru. Not because I like the surprise of having my hand almost guillotined-off by the closing door of the canister holder... but because I never know when my bank is going to switch up their lobby hours again.

Anyhoo... as I've mentioned before, the bank now wants you to send in your driver's license or debit card. They say it's so they can look up your account. Suuuure. My account number is not on my driver's license. But it IS on the withdrawal slip I must submit. Anyhoo... I don't mind verifying my ID. Just don't lie to me about the reason you want it.

It was actually a quick transaction this time. The canister came back with a bank envelope containing my cash. As usual, I shook it upside down to retrieve my driver's license. It's a lot easier to make sure it's in there before leaving, rather than drive off and have to come back.

I HAD A BONUS ID IN MY ENVELOPE! 

That's right. My driver's license was there. PLUS a debit card. At first I thought maybe they'd issued me a new one, but that always comes in the mail when it gets updated. I looked at the name on the debit card, and IT WASN'T MINE! Not unless my name is now Rodney SoAndSo. I promise you, it is not.

I immediately pushed the call button. 

"Yes?"

"I have a debit card in my envelope that's not mine. I got my driver's license back. But I have an extra debit card, with a man's name on it. I'm sending it back in right now."

"Oh. Uh. Thank you."

I'm pretty sure it belonged to the guy who had pulled up at the drive-thru beside me. We were the only two vehicles there. 

Imagine if I drove off with it, and didn't find it until I got home. The bank would have been closed by then. That guy would have no idea where his debit card went. Only that he sent it into the bank, and they didn't have it. It's not like I could have scammed him for money. Unless I sent Hick there to put in the debit card and ask for a withdrawal. Though I doubt they would do it without THE ACCOUNT NUMBER on a written withdrawal slip.

However... I'm pretty sure I could use that tap-tap-tappy feature to buy something like, oh, I don't know, perhaps SCRATCHERS at assorted convenience stores, before Rodney noticed money was coming out of his account.

You're welcome, Rodney SoAndSo. Val is not a thief.

Val Has Been De-CENTed

Before you stop pinching your nostrils shut, and rejoice at the news that Val has been de-CENTed... be forewarned that there's something rotten in Backroads. Something stinks like roadkill stewed in sewage, sprinkled with diced durian, and left to simmer on hot asphalt in August.

VAL DID NOT FIND A SINGLE COIN THIS WEEK!

Oh, the disappointment. The agony. The unfairness that was accentuated by Hick declaring:

"I found a penny at my storage locker on Thursday!"

This is a travesty. It's the first of the month. People should have coins jangling in their pockets. Hick did! In fact, I discovered a dime in the bottom of the washer after he did his laundry. I was smarting with the knowledge that it was HICK's dime. 

Maybe something big is coming down the pike for Val. Right, Even Steven???

________________________________________________________________

That's 0 COINS this week, for 0 CENTS towards Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune!

______________________________________________________

2023 RUNNING TOTAL

Penny           still at 46.

Dime             still at 8

Nickel           still at 1

Quarter        still at 1

2022 FINAL TOTALS

Penny           124
Dime              21
Nickel              7
Quarter             9

2021 FINAL TOTALS

Penny        124
Dime           14
Nickel           7
Quarter         6

_______________________________________________________ 

A Surprising Find

While I was having my groceries rung up in Country Mart on Wednesday, an old lady came into the store, pushing a cart with bagged items. She continued up the unmanned register behind my checker, into the store.

My Checker: "Oh, is something wrong?"

Old Lady: "I lost $15. It was in my change purse."

The Other Checker behind me, over at the short conveyor, said: "She was just in here, and we couldn't find it." She did not say it pleasantly, but with kind of an edge. She's usually very friendly. Not having been there at the time, I can only surmise that maybe Old Lady was insistent and time-consuming. Surely Other Checker wasn't suggesting that Old Lady was a scammer...

We all looked down at the floor, around our feet and the register, from me to the other two people behind me in line. Nothing there. By this time, Old Lady had circled back through the front of the store, and was going by Other Checker's line. That's when the Service Desk Lady spoke up.

Service Desk Lady: "You said you lost a change purse?"

Old Lady: "Yes. I can't find it. I know I had it when I got here. It was in my purse, and now it's gone."

Service Desk Lady: "Did it look like THIS?" She held up a change purse.

Old Lady: "Yes! That's it! Oh, bless you."

Service Desk Lady: "A woman found it on the parking lot, and brought it in."

I'm guessing that the $15 was still inside, because who steals the contents, and then goes to the trouble to turn in a change purse?

That was the excitement for Wednesday: I found out there's an honest person in Backroads.

Potato Salad Genius

A couple Fridays ago, Genius sent me a text. It was at 7:14 a.m. Good thing I hadn't gone to bed yet. 

"I know you've sent it to me before, but I can't seem to find it. Can you send me your potato salad recipe?"

"How soon do you need it, and do you need exact amounts?"

"Have a cookout tonight, so ideally within the next couple hours so I have time to go to the store and make it. If it's too much trouble, don't worry about it, I can find one online!"

Well! No way was any child of MINE going to make potato salad off the innernets!

"Not exact amounts, but hopefully ballpark."

"Potatoes, dill pickles (I use baby dills because there's less mushiness and juice), onions, yellow mustard, Kraft mayo, ground black pepper. Depends if you want it smooth (baking potatoes) or with chunks of potato (Yukon Gold or other waxy variety). 

Boil potatoes until fork pokes through. Drain and let them steam off their moisture for a few minutes. Then refrigerate so you will be working with cold potatoes. I've made them with microwaved potatoes. It comes out like a paste, rather than having chunks of potato.

Cut potatoes into 1-inch cubes. Squirt in mustard and a couple tablespoons of mayo. Grind some black pepper. Add diced pickles and diced onions."

"Heh this is why I needed estimated amounts. I would've guessed half a cup of mayo."

"Stir and taste. I usually have to keep adding pepper. My worst problem is TOO MUCH MAYO! It always needs more mustard than mayo. I never measure. Just start with mustard, and add mayo sparingly. Sometimes I add more mustard if it isn't tangy enough. Too much mayo makes it too wet without enough tang. Sometimes I have to keep adding pickles for the crunch."

"Thanks for taking the time to type all this out."

"OH! I forgot! A couple or 4 diced boiled eggs!"

"Just the yolks or the whole egg?"

"Whole eggs. Small dice. Just from memory. Hope it works out. You know I use my big brown bowl full. 4 to 6 eggs. You might only need a couple."

"How much potato do you usually do?"

"In my big bowl, I have about 6 or 7 medium potatoes. I usually don't add salt, because the mustard and pickles have enough. Potatoes I peel with the back of a knife, by scraping when they're cold. I boil with the skin on. Don't want them waterlogged. You can add more mayo a little at a time if the mustard seems too overwhelming. Let me know how they turn out."

"Will do."

All that took me a half hour. I'm not a fast texter. I heard back from Genius at 11:17.

"I also like it mustard-y, but will adjust them to taste! Thanks again. Boiling my potatoes now."

Darn that Genius! He didn't take a picture! I didn't even know how it went until a couple days ago.

"Just saw these messages, forgot to follow up. The potato salad turned out great and was a big hit. Anyway, RIP Gordon Lightfoot."

"I saw that last night. No more Carefree Highway for him!"

"The big carefree highway in the sky."

"At least he's not in Davy Jones's Locker with The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald!"

Not that Genius is a big fan of Gordon Lightfoot, but it's music I used to play on our way to school, before Genius was old enough to escape T-Hoe and drive himself. While not happy that ol' Gordon kicked the bucket, I guess without his recent demise, I might never have learned about the potato salad. 

You know the old adage: "Give a man potato salad and he eats for a day. Teach a man to make potato salad, and he gets invited to BBQs for life."

We Now Join Our Regular Do-Gooder In Progress

Hick got home from the auction around 9:00 on Tuesday night. He was empty-handed.

"Did you buy anything?" 

"Yeah, I bought five little tackle boxes for $9.50 apiece. I'll sell them for $12-$15 each."

"Is there something in them?"

"Yeah. They have hooks, a stringer, some bobbers, and a couple spinner-baits. I also bought two trials."

"Trials? What in the Not-Heaven for?"

"Trials. To put on drywall mud at the flip house."

"Oh, you mean TROWELS."

"Yeah. Trials."

"Whatever..."

"I paid $2 for the table drawing, and I won. I could have taken a $100 impact wrench, but I changed my mind and got a bubble gun."

"Why would you do that? Would you sell the impact wrench?"

"No. I would have kept it around here in case I needed one. But the lady sitting by me had been talking during the auction. She said, 'If I win the table drawing, I'm getting that bubble gun for my little boy.' He was about 5 or 6. They sold some of the bubble guns for $20. They look like a cannon. Like a speed gun thing. They make big bubbles. So I got it for my prize and gave it to the lady. She made the boy come over and thank me. He was grinning from ear to ear."

Do-Gooders gonna do good. As long as they're not taking a big loss on their merchandise.