The Universe is Such a Trickster

Bargain House is a done deal. Sold. Money in the bank. Utilities disconnected. Just a couple of final bills and refunds remaining. Lap House is bought and paid for, in our full possession, just waiting for Hick to decide to start working on it. So of course The Universe needs a chuckle.

Remember Cheap House? The foreclosure in a really nice location, that we'd (at least two of us) been hoping to acquire since September 2025? Our firm offer of $15,000 was approved by the Savings & Loan that repossessed it. But the transaction kept dragging out. Turns out during the title search there were additional judgments against that house for over $17,000! At the end of January, Loan Officer told Hick, after much waiting and several inquiries, that the Savings & Loan was required to auction that property on the courthouse steps.

The Pony and I were not really on board with still getting it. So many problems made us feel like this was not the house for us. Two-thirds rule in this flipping partnership, you know.

Hick got a call last week. The courthouse auction will be next week. Hick still wants to go and bid. The Pony is okay with this now, as long as Hick does not go over our original offer. Dang that two-thirds rule!

Hick went back to look at Cheap House.

"Everything is gone out of it! The lock me and that lady put on the shed is gone, and the shed is empty."

"Well. Then that $2000 you promised her off the books for the contents is not a thing anymore."

"That's for sure. Who knows if it was her who took it. I doubt it. Probably the bank. Now that I looked at the house again, I think I wouldn't offer no more than $10,000 for it. I'd fix the hole in the floor, and stuff like that. Then we sell it to a flipper."

"Yeah. There's nothing to flip under $50,000 lately. You're lucky to find THAT! And it's usually a hoarder house, falling apart."

"We wouldn't turn on the utilities or nothin'. Just get it cleaned up and list it as a flip."

"Somebody else might bid more at the auction. But they probably won't have seen inside, since it's locked up, and you only got in because that lady was there when you went by the first time."

"Yeah. Somebody might bid more. But I won't go over."

This is not exactly what I wanted right now. Hick has too many other distractions, with his business and his harem of elderlies and Lap House. At least he won't be doing side work for Nick and Bev anymore! Since Hick and The Pony are in agreement, my one-third opinion doesn't matter. Hick will go to the auction.

We need Cheap House like a hole in the floor...

The Discontinuing Adventures of Nick and Bev

Every now and then, I share a tale of Nick and Bev, our former Backcreek Neighbors. We've known them for at least 10 years, though I probably wouldn't recognize them on sight. About five years ago, they moved to the middler of nowhere. 

Hick has always been the one who communicates with them, as they use him as their personal handyman. They pay for his services. Hick usually puts them ahead of other jobs, and is willing to wait for payment if they ask to delay it until payday. I think the last time I wrote about them, Hick was on his way to do work on their house, but turned around to pick up Nick and give him a ride, since he had left his car in the shop, and said he was walking 26 miles home along hilly curvy blacktop county roads.

Anyhoo... the latest news is that Nick and Bev are moving to Israel. It seemed kind of an odd decision to me, but considering it's Nick and Bev, it really wasn't surprising. I don't know their reason. It's not my business. As The Pony replied when I told him this tale, "Huh. That's not really a safe area right now." My thoughts exactly. 

I don't know if it's religious, or business, or just a whim. They are Seventh Day Adventists, which I know because early on, Hick would say, "I won't have time until Sunday." And Bev would say, "No. That's my Sabbath. Can you do it on Sunday?" Which for some reason gives me a chuckle, though more of an insight into Bev's manner of thinking. As for it being a job opportunity, they are both retired military. Rick has been doing some kind of government work, which is in the technical field. Again, not my business. I'm just curious about why they chose that area to relocate.

Anyhoo... I came home last Sunday, and Hick was sitting at the cutting block counting his money from the SUS2.5. He didn't seem like his usual jovial, overbearing self.

"What's wrong with you?"

"I got called a USURY today! By Bev!" [Turns out it was Nick.]

"I'm somewhat familiar with the term. I don't think it's a NAME you call people. It's biblical. Like you're cheating somebody."

"I had to look it up on my phone! They was textin' me."

I could tell Hick had hurt feelings. That's MY job! Nobody else better be saying anything mean to my Hick! What in the Not-Heaven was going on? Of course Hick is not one to hold things in.

"You know Rick and Bev are moving to Israel. They're selling all their stuff to get money for the move. They asked if I could sell a log-splitter and air conditioner and tiller for them at my store. I said yeah, and they said they'd pay me 10% of what I sold.

Bev wanted $750 for the log-splitter. I told her a brand new one would go for that in a store, but hers is used and don't even work. So we agreed on $300. I bought it from them right there, because I have a small-engine guy who I think can fix it, and I can still make money on it.

They wanted $400 for the air conditioner. I called an old guy at the apartments, and he bought it for $400.

The tiller works. Bev said she'd take $350 for it. Her and Nick went walkin' around, lookin' at other stuff at the flea market. I thought that tiller would bring more, so I put $500 on it. A while later, Nick and Bev was talkin' to one of my buddies and mentioned they had me selling their tiller. He said something about he saw it, for $500.

Bev started texting me that she only wanted $350 for the tiller. That I was trying to make a 40% profit, when we had agreed on 10%. I texted back that even if I sold all three things, including the tiller at $500, that I would only be making a 14.2% profit. [No idea how either of them arrived at these figures, so no need for innernet mathies to correct me!] 

I was only trying to get them more money for their move. If the tiller didn't sell, I would have bought it from them myself. I knew I could sell it, even if not by the end of the day.

Then Nick starts textin' me. He said, "That's usury! God wouldn't want that." I told him I was just trying to get them more money, but if he didn't want me to sell his tiller, he could come get it. So he did. Just picked it up and left."

"Did they pay you the 10% for the wood-splitter and air conditioner?"

"NO! They didn't give me a penny!"

Heh, heh. I guess God would have been fine with THAT, reneging on a deal that was already made.

"Well. That's sad. But if I was you, I don't think I'd be answering any of their calls or texts. They can find somebody else to help them out before they move."

"Yep. I ain't answerin' nothin' from either one of 'em."

It's not the little bit of money from that 10% Hick didn't get. That's nothing to him. His feelings are hurt. He doesn't cheat people. He thought Nick and Bev were his friends. He's bent over backwards to help them, and they in turn have given him stuff over the years. Like their old flooring that he used in one of the flip houses, and wood from their deck. Hick didn't understand their anger towards him, over what he thought was doing them a favor. In the very least, Bev could have just said, "Put the tiller back at $350."

I bear Nick and Bev no ill will. I wish them safe travels and an uneventful life as they settle in Israel. But that's it. Nothing extravagant. My heart has hardened a bit. They should have treated Hick better.

Friday Night. You Know What THAT Means.

I was a bit late getting to town, and arrived home at 5:10 on Friday. Standing at the kitchen door, doling out a slice of bacon to Pepper and Jack, I heard Hick's phone ring. I was lecturing the dogs on manners. Specifically Pepper, who has an off-putting habit of dropping his own treat to the porch, and lunging to try and steal Jack's from his jaws. 

I could hear the tone of Hick's voice, but not the actual half of his conversation. It sounded like he was a bit stand-offish. Polite, yet distant. Like when he gets calls for his business, to confirm or deny a buyer's application. The call didn't last long.

"What was that all about?"

"Just one of my gals from the apartments. She told me she came to my store today, but I wasn't there. I told her I'm only there a half day on Fridays. Then she said she put her check in the box at my office. I told her that's what she's supposed to do."

"Of course she called! It's FRIDAY NIGHT! Is that the one who likes to drink? Who always calls you on Friday nights? The one who got arrested and called you from jail?"

"No. This was another one."

I really need to start learning the names of Hick's Harem.

Reuben Is Not Himself

This not-pneumonia is living rent-free in my nasal cavities! As I type this, it's the 9th day of my Hick-credited malady, and I still have not regained smell or taste. My estranged BFF Google says it might take up to two weeks! That's due to inflammation and swelling in the sinuses, preventing the molecules from lodging on the little patch where they are recognized by the brain. I might as well start chomping on onions and pretending they're apples.

Even though I didn't have Hick bring me a Reuben Sandwich from the Senior Center on Thursday, I DID have the pleasure of re-warming his. That's when I noticed that Reuben was not himself. He seemed different. Not as different as Becky on the Roseanne show, who seemed to turn into a different person during the middle few seasons. But not the old Reuben I had been accustomed to month after month.

I take the bread off the Reubens and put the slices in the oven to crisp them up again. I set the meat with the cheese, sauerkraut, and orange dressing aside, then add it to the foiled pizza pan holding the bread at the last minute. I don't know if they use Russian or Thousand Island Dressing on the Reubens, but it's always just pale orange. The bread was the same, that delicious marble rye. The beef was the wafered kind that comes in a packet, perhaps Buddig brand, at the store. Sauerkraut is sauerkraut, shredded.

WHAT was I noticing? Maybe too much dressing? The top looked extra gooey. Wait! What was THAT? I have a sneaking suspicion that some recycling was done with the Reubens. It looked like maybe a bit of NACHO CHEESE had been added! The white cheese slice was still next to the meat. But on top, with the dressing and sauerkraut, was extra gooey orangeness. With flecks of red and green! About the size of a large-grade glitter. To me, it looked like a fine dice of red and green peppers that might be in liquid nacho cheese. I pointed it out to Hick, who had no idea, and didn't care, having already eaten an entire Reuben at lunch without noticing.

Unable to smell or taste, I could not determine the origin of this change in Reuben. Though it did not escape my attention that two days previous, on Tuesday, the menu was "Taco-ish Tuesday," with a Chicken Tortilla Bowl as the main course. Perhaps they had some canned nacho cheese left over...

Hick actually brought home 2.5 Reubens! I thought that was so sweet, Hick knowing how much I love Reuben, and making sure there was one for me, just in case my taste suddenly returned before supper. As in Coyote Ugly, when Rachel told boss Lil, "Let's not start polishing a Grammy," in reference to Violet singing on the bar... I will advise you not to confuse Hick with Mother Teresa in his Reuben-bringing. 

"[Elderly 1] didn't want hers. And [Elderly 2] could only eat half. So I brung theirs home, too. You can have one if you want."

I would have had no shame taking one and devouring it. If only I could have tasted it. So I left them all for Hick. He had one Thursday night, planning for the 1.5 on Friday night.

I remain ever-hopeful that my smell-and-taste return is imminent. They're probably hiking along the gravel road right now, their kits-n-caboodles bound up in red handkerchiefs tied at the end of sticks, whistling a little tune, about to take a shortcut through the BARn field to be reunited with me by suppertime.

The new jar of Vicks VapoRub that I'm wafting under my nose says different.

Val Rebuffs Reuben!

In an earthshattering move of uncharacteristic behavior, Val has turned her back on Reuben! I join you in disbelief. I never saw this coming! For four weeks, I have been watching the menu from the Senior Center. I KNEW that Thursday was Reuben Day. Even though they changed the menu listing. Soup is not the headliner any more. I guess this is the summer menu.

Grilled Reuben

OR Cheeseburger Wrap

Macaroni Salad

Sweet & Sour Beets

Brownies OR Fruit

I don't know what kind of miscreant could possibly choose a Cheeseburger Wrap over a Reuben Sandwich. The rest of the menu doesn't actually call out EAT ME to Val. But that's not the reason I told Hick to NOT bring a Reuben home for me.

"I know tomorrow is Reuben Day, but I don't want one. Don't bring me a sandwich. I'm still getting over your not-pneumonia, and I can't taste anything. No need to get me a Reuben."

"It ain't no problem. I'll probably bring one home for my supper. I can get you one."

"No. It will be bad enough warming up YOUR Reuben. I'm not making that effort when I can't even taste it. I'll just have some soup."

Yes. Reuben is handled with care. His innards are separated from his outtards. The bread gets re-toasted in the oven. Then the meat with cheese and sauerkraut/dressing is slid onto the pan at the last minute, to get a little melt on the cheese again. Then I reconstruct Reuben, and slice him in half diagonally. The sides are just microwaved if needed.

I'm sure Hick will enjoy his Reuben. I will be sad about not having one. But I would be sadder if I ate a tasteless Reuben.

Scare 'Em Harem

Monday night, we had bad weather rolling through. Seems like it had been hyped by the TV meteorologists for over a week. Even though there was a less-than 10 percent chance we would get an actual tornado. The conditions were there! It could be coming! Tune in for continuous coverage.

I'm not knocking the forecasters for being there to inform people. It's just that they get viewers whipped into a frenzy. Of course people who have been through a tornado are anxious. They want to be prepared. The schools pick up on it. Lots of early dismissals that day, even though our main window for the storm to pass through was 5:00 to 7:00 p.m.

I had been listening to the TV when Hick got home. Sounded like the timing had changed to around 8:00 to 8:30. Around 8:00, the wind started howling a bit more. We both got a weather alert on our phones, saying a tornado was approaching the town we live five miles east of, and to take cover immediately. I went to the living room to watch the radar with Hick.

"It looks like it's going to slide through south of us, and north of The Pony. It's really a narrow band."

"Yeah. Pony sent me a text saying the sirens were going off, but it didn't look bad enough to go sit in the closet."

"It's definitely here now. But it doesn't seem as bad as some storms, when the chairs blow off the porch."

Just then, our satellite went down. No TV. Hick's phone rang.

"Yeah. Well. He's probably asleep. It will be okay. It's probably almost past by now. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Your harem?"

"Yeah. The sirens are going off. They'll all under the stairs. They couldn't get the one guy to come to the door. He probably already went to bed."

"Sounds like they're doing what they're supposed to do. I can't imagine what they thought YOU were going to do! Drive out in the storm to go check on him?"

"You never know."

Hick's Harem is quite attached to him. They seem to think he's Superman.

Lap House Intentions

It's been a month since we closed the purchase of Lap House. Since then, almost nothing has been done. Hick says he cleaned some stuff out of the basement, but I have a suspicion that the "stuff" was the tools he made a separate deal for with the previous owner.

Anyhoo... one evening Hick came from the shower to the kitchen, and said,

"I've got it! I know what I want to do with the house. This one has taken a while. Usually I can see a plan when I walk through it. Remember how it has that funny layout where you have to walk through a bedroom to get to the kitchen and the bathroom? I'm putting in a short hall, and moving the living room to where that bedroom is. So the two rooms on the front of the house will be bedrooms. You'll go down a short hall as you enter the front door. It leads to the living room and kitchen. The bathroom will be off the living room.

I want to get entrance to the basement from the inside of the house. I'll do that by extending the roof that's on the outside entrance to the basement now. Then I'll cut a door from inside the bathroom to get to those steps leading to the basement. There's no way to move the steps. They're concrete."

Here's the outside of Lap House. The front left is currently the living room, and the front right is a bedroom. The living room will turn into a bedroom, and the back bedroom will turn into the living room.

Here's the back, showing the basement entrance that Hick hopes to connect with a roof and a door into the bathroom.

Hick had his regular roofing buddy take a look at Lap House. A guy from his SUS2.5 said that he does roofing, and could give Hick an estimate. Hick was pretty sure Lap House needs a whole new roof, not just a patch job. It's a good selling point, too. Anyhoo... the SUS2.5 guy said he could do it for $8200. Regular Roofing Buddy said he will take $6300. I guess Hick knows his roofers! That's why we've been using the one guy all along.

Hick plans for the roof to be metal, and black. He hasn't decided on whether he will paint the red porch black, or the same color as the siding. Hick's HVAC guy also gave his estimate for heating and cooling, which Hick said was either $7600 or $6700. He can't remember (CAIN'T REMEMBER NOTHIN', heh, heh) because it was by a phone call, not a text.

I don't know when Hick will get all of this in motion. His harem is pretty needy lately, heh, heh. But at least he's taking my suggestion to get the roof and HVAC done now, while the weather is mild, so he can do inside work through the heat of summer and cold of winter.