The VALedictorian Outsmarts Herself

Oh, have I ever mentioned that I was high school valedictorian? Not that I'm trying to brag about my geniusness. Just stating a fact. Proclaiming, full-throated, through the rarefied air, nose tilted snootily, from atop my high-horse.

I filled my cart at 10Box on Tuesday, having gone 10 days without a store visit. I found everything on my list but the Puffs With Lotion, which continue to elude me. There were a few moments of panic when I kept seeing the same woman on a motorized cart, and the adult son following her. It's not like she was behind me, or in my way. Nor I in hers. She just turned up everywhere I went.

Back at the produce section, picking bananas, I was between mother and son. Both were staring at me. Oh, well. Maybe they'd never seen a valedictorian before, although I stop short of having a face tattoo of my accomplishment, and wear neither armband nor jacket to proclaim the honor. I moved off to the side, to the large bin of canned green beans, and consulted my shopping list. Here came that woman, motoring around the green beans.

"Excuse me, didn't you used to work at Newmentia..."

I looked up. No rest for the wicked world-renowned Chex-Mix-making brainiac. 

"Yes, I'm Val Thevictorian."

"I knew it! That's it! THEVICTORIAN! Mrs. Thevictorian!" shouted the son, as if a prize was coming his way.

"I used to be a custodian."

"Oh, I remember you! And you drove a bus too, right?"

"Sure did. It's nice to see you again."

We chatted few moments. I remembered her name, first and last. And which buildings (not mine) that she worked in, though I fell short on which bus route. She'd had back surgery at one time, which may or may not have been the reason for her motorized cart. Such is the life of a small-town celebrity, getting recognized when you least expect it. At least there was nothing embarrassing in my cart.

When I was ready to check out, only two lines were open. The first had only one cart ahead of me, though it was fairly full. I put my cart in line, and looked to my right, at the other line. I could see three carts waiting, the last being a man with only four items.

"Would you like to go ahead of me?"

"No. I think I'll stay in this one."

"You know, I think I might join you."

I had gotten a look at the checker, who is the one I had when my debit card wouldn't work. When she'd called a manager over twice, and let me bag up my groceries, and STILL that register wouldn't take my card. I had ended up writing a check, which would have been easier to do at the beginning if I had any inkling that this gal wouldn't be able to get my card to work. She gave me a mini panic attack when she mentioned, upon taking my check, "Now I get to do one of these." It had gone through just fine.

Anyhoo... as that guy moved forward, I pushed over to his line. Except down the aisle, out of sight, was a woman behind him! I waited for her to move ahead, but she said, "I'll switch places with you!" and got in my line.

I put my two heads of cabbage on the conveyor first, because they were awkward, not wrapped in plastic or in a bag. I kept setting out my other stuff, except the 4-pack of paper towels, and the 12-pack of toilet paper, which she could scan with a handheld thingy, since I had set them with their bar codes accessible.

"Oh, I'll do that in just a minute. These scanned wrong, so I have to get it voided. Well. I scanned them wrong. For some reason, I put in broccoli. Then I thought, 'Something is wrong here.' I KNOW they're not broccoli!"

So much for trying to take the register without problems. This gal was no inexperienced young 'un like the kid who didn't know what limes and lemons are. Plus, she had so many tattoos, I'm surprised she didn't have a labeled cabbage somewhere in her arm graphics. A manager came to void the broccoli, and then the rest went smoothly. 

If only I had a crystal ball to tell me which line would be faster, then I could stop overtaxing my valedictorian noggin.

The Poop Trucks Are Running!

That's what I discovered on my first trip to town in 10 days. No, I was not hallucinating. I came up over a hill, and there was one of the tanker trucks headed right at me. Not a long semi tanker truck, the type which hauls gasoline, or a shiny kind that transports milk. This is the shorter version, a one-piece tanker truck, with a big fat green hose haphazardly wrapped across the back. The kind that sucks out septic tanks.

We have several different colors of poop trucks here in Outer Backroads. I'm guessing they are private contractors. They suck up the prison poop, and spew it out on the property of a guy down by the low water bridge. Not that section of his property, but up over a ridge, where you can't see it. I've never smelled it, either, though I couldn't right now if I tried. I used to think it was just our local prison, on the way to town, that sent their poop out here. Hick says the trucks come from several counties that have prisons, and not just ours.

Anyhoo... this poop truck driver was taking his half out of the middle. I had to skate T-Hoe's two right-side tires along the edge of the blacktop county road to avoid sideswiping this poop-wagon. Not only is there no shoulder on this road... but I think there's a negative shoulder! There's barely enough room for two normal vehicles to pass, and some portions of the road are narrower than others.

Tragedy narrowly avoided (nobody puts Val in a poop pile!), I continued over the next hill, where I was nearly seizured by the flashing hazard lights of a FedEx van!

Let the record show that there was bright clear sunshine. No need in any stretch of the imagination for this small white FedEx van to have flashing lights. UNLESS the driver was pretending to be some kind of emergency FedEx van, on its way to pick up a freshly harvested kidney. Which would truly be disturbing, since this is only a rural residential area, and people should not be cutting out kidneys all willy-nilly to send off in a red Igloo cooler with FedEx.

At least the FedEx van didn't take up as much road-room as a poop truck. I made it to town without incident. Got my scratchers at the Gas Station Chicken Store, then headed to 10Box for some grocery shopping. 

So smooth was my first town trip post-cold that I was virtually singing, "Me, and my plaaaaacard, rolling down the avenue." Except I'm still a little hoarse. Not to be confused with The Pony. Who had his own adventure first day back in civilization. 

Looks like I've got a little catching-up for you this week. 

Val Might Be Ready to Rejoin the World

I've been feeling a little better every day. Still hoarse, and with a sometimes cough, but able to get around with minimal dizziness, and stand to wash sink after sink of dishes freed from their Christmas leftovers. The dogs probably think Hick has finally succeeded in trying to kill me. I haven't stepped foot outside since last Tuesday night. 

The weather has forsaken me, now in the 30s rather than 60s like it was on Christmas Day. There has been some accumulated snow on the porch rail. Which does not make me yearn to get out.

I missed Mo Money Monday Tuesday on the day after Christmas. Now those brand new scratchers are not new any more. Surely there are some winners out there waiting to come home with Val. I was planning to go yesterday, but didn't feel like rushing around to shower. I was working on the finances concerning our flip house, the Double Hovel. Hick had two people contact him on New Year's Eve. One guy is trying to get approval for a higher loan, and the lady never showed up to tour the property on New Year's Day.

The Pony had a harsher bout of sickness, and is going back to work today for the first time. Hope he does okay. Hick is still miraculously sickness-free. He's a tough old buzzard!

With nothing else to discuss, I suppose I NEED to get back to town. Some weirdos might be missing their magnet.

A Delicious Time Was Had By All

Hick's birthday was a couple weeks ago. The Pony wanted to take him out for dinner. We waited until The Pony's day off, and headed to the local catfish restaurant. The only other option was going after The Pony got off work, which would not have been time enough before closing for us to do justice to the ALL YOU CAN EAT option that we so enjoy.

Being elderlies, we preferred to go a bit earlier in the day. Not as crowded, and a few dollars off before dinner prices!

We were so engrossed in our feeding frenzy that I FORGOT TO GET A PICTURE! A picture of the piled-high platter of fried catfish, chicken breasts, shrimp, potato wedges and hush puppies!

This is after we had already ravaged that platter! I love the fried chicken breasts. Now they are cutting them into smaller pieces, but that doesn't fool me! I am shocked to see so many shrimp still on the platter. That's usually what Hick and The Pony go for, thought I don't eat them, since I feel like I could get the same thing out of the freezer case in a box.

Hick's plate is in the background, with his un-sweet tea, and a bowl of fried okra that he picked as a side dish instead of his usual baked beans. I'm not a fan of fried okra. Nor their beans. You can get as many sides as you like, but we only ask for our favorites, because we don't want to be wasteful, and want room for the main meats.

This is my plate. As you can see, Val likes her sauces. Half my plate is taken! Of course I had to put my generous portion of slaw with the sauces. I've got ketchup up top, and tartar sauce to the left of it, and the delicious sweet tangy chicken sauce at the bottom. I've got a piece of the cornmeal-battered catfish ripped in half, and chicken, and a potato wedge that now has a groove-y kind of cut. Oh, and if you look closely at the center, there's a single strand of fried onion, a new appetizer that The Pony wanted to try. There's my jar of water, and a shrimp escaped from the platter, trying to make its way to my plate.

That's our bowl of slaw, and tartar sauce behind it. I thought we might need a refill on the slaw, but the other stuff filled me up too fast. You can glimpse Hick feeding in the background.

The onions were $5.99, but The Pony and Hick and I all declared them worth it! So crispy and FRIED to go with the rest of our feast!

The Pony was ready for some refills on his plate. He was already on his second jar of Sprite. The white stuff on the right is one of two containers of ranch dressing that came with the fried onions. Hick and I liked ours plain.

The waitress came by to see if we wanted more of anything. We asked for some catfish, which was particularly good that day. She was a good waitress, friendly and attentive, yet not intrusive. Brought us a wooden wedge when Hick complained at the beginning because our table had a wobble. That fixed the situation.

As you might imagine, we left there stuffed! I have a feeling we shall return for my birthday, and The Pony's as well. Dang it! I just realized that I forgot to eat a hush puppy!

A Hick, a Jug, and a Vibrator Walk Into a War

In the throes of my sickness on Friday morning, I got the urge for some yellow Gatorade. I could set it on the table next to the short couch, and sip intermittently, alternating with water. I sent Hick a text, asking if he could bring me a bottle when he came home around 5:00.

Hick came home early, right after his Senior Center lunch, bearing my yellow Gatorade, plus blueberry pie and lemon cake. I had really only wanted one bottle of Gatorade, like from a convenience store when Hick stopped for a soda. But he went to Dollar General and bought me six giant bottles. Good for him, he's trying to heal me, though throwing out my back and shoulders from lifting those behemoth bottles.

Hick wasn't home to tend to me, just to drop off the Gatorade (and mainly his desserts!) before going back out for his weekly shot, and his Friday afternoon bull session with his cronies.

Later that night, I also asked Hick, once he was done with his leftovers supper, to look for my vibrator next time he was in the basement. Here now! It's a G-rated vibrator that I found at Walmart many years ago, and is great for loosening up my clogged sinuses during a cold. Hick made a special trip down those 13 rail-less basement stairs, and returned with my vibrator. Such a loving husband.

The atmosphere took a turn about a half-hour later, when I had to cough. Most of my coughs are of the dry hacking variety, but this one had a bit of phlegm. It took several coughs, with considerable gurgling, to clear that material.

HICK GAVE ME HIS JUDGMENTAL FROWNY FACE!

Like I could help it! It was either get that stuff coughed up, or choke to death. This smug and hateful gaze from the tilt of Hick's recliner really rubbed me the wrong way. How could he appear so caring of my health at first, and then flip to his King of the House persona, begrudging me oxygen for life?

I was livid as he gave me a short lecture on how I should and shouldn't cough! 

Hick then denied that he had given me any kind of look. Which is as good as an apology when you're feeling poorly, since it meant Hick at least felt guilty enough to lie about his hateful look. Plus he had the good karma of toting home a tanker truck worth of Gatorade, and hiking to the basement to fetch my vibrator.

Not sure which of us will be happier when this cold runs its course.

The End of the Trail For Val's Future Pennyillionaire Fortune

Hey! Looks like I'm not going to reach Pennyillionaire status. I have not been to town in a week, being busy with Christmas cooking and activities, then coming down with a cold on Tuesday night. So my coffers have not gained a single cent. Who knows, maybe there was a collision with a Brinks truck, and coins were strewn all willy-nilly for Val to find! Or not.

My heart is just not in this quest any more. So I'm calling it quits. It has been a pleasant journey, but my heart tells me that my destination has been reached. 

If I was feeling better, I would look back and find the grand total. Alas, my watery eyes are not currently up to the task. Perhaps some day in the future. 

I will leave you with the 2023 numbers.

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

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2023 FINAL TOTALS

Penny           91

Dime            18

Nickel             1

Quarter          4

2022 FINAL TOTALS

Penny           124
Dime              21
Nickel              7
Quarter             9

2021 FINAL TOTALS

Penny        124
Dime           14
Nickel           7
Quarter         6

Christmas Dinner, the Afterthought

Poor pitiful Val, the much-put-upon chef of Christmas recent-past. 

We didn't get home from the house of my sister the ex-mayor's wife on Christmas Eve until 11:00. Then I had to have OUR Christmas dinner ready to serve at 11:00 a.m. the next day, because of Genius's plans. 

Here's my plate of Christmas dinner:

Let's start at 12:00 and go around. Delicious spiral honey-baked ham, roasted carrots/onions/potatoes, a blob of mayo, because I didn't have a squeeze bottle, and I spooned out a bit too much, Sister Schubert's Rolls, and a slice of Nutty Oat Bread with cheddar cheese, for making a ham sandwich, and potato salad, and a deviled egg. 

There's my large bowl of 7-Layer Salad, the layers all akimbo. In the background, some round slices of Oberle Cheese, a local product that is creamy with a garlic flavor, some Ritz crackers for cheesing, a bowl of black olives I haven't raided yet, and a slab of Kerrygold Butter that was intact when I started filling my plate. Needless to say, but I'll say it anyway, the feeders didn't wait for the cook before digging in!

Here's the deal. The Pony was working the next day, and didn't want to take any leftovers home. Hick ate his lunch at the Senior Center the next day. I ate some leftovers on Tuesday, before going to the casino that night. Then Hick had Senior Center lunch and played bar bingo Wednesday, and I was too sick to eat anything. Here it is Thursday now, and we're nearing the end of safe leftovers. 

All that work for naught! Except for the feeding frenzy for 15 minutes on Christmas day.