The Universe Throws Us a Bone

Wednesday morning at 8:30, I got a phone call from Hick. That's unusual. He rarely contacts me unless he's had a change of plans.

"Val. I just got a call from Realtor. We have a full-price offer on our land. I'm going by at 10:00 to sign the papers."

!!!!!

There was still an hour-and-a-half for The Universe to monkey around with a big wrench. But everything was fine. SilverRedO didn't break down, and Realtor didn't break any more bones. The closing is set for the end of August, at the title company I prefer.

"Huh. Maybe we should have asked more!"

"I thought it was a fair price. It was more than my buddy offered me. The well alone is worth the difference."

"Yeah, especially where it is up on the hill. That would be an expensive well to drill."

"I think I read on the inside that it was about 150 feet deep."

"Was it the guy who called you? The one who's been looking at it?"

"Surprisingly no! It's a couple. A man and his wife. They'll have to send an appraiser, but they have already been approved for a loan. The good thing is, if something falls through between now and the closing, there will probably be another buyer ready to take it."

The Pony was thrilled with the news, and Genius was pleasantly surprised. The property listing is now coded as CONTINGENT on one site, and UNDER CONTRACT on another. 

Two days from listing to contract is fine with us! At the full asking price, too. Can't get much better than that. Well. Realtor might beg to differ. The buyer had gone through another realtor, and she will have to split the commission.

The Universe Humors Thevictorians

When Hick came home Tuesday afternoon, he said he had received a phone call.

"Some guy called me and said he had been talking to Realtor about our land. He wanted to know about the well, and I told him where it was. I figure people didn't notice it, because that neighbor had mowed partway onto our land, and they probably thought that was not our property. I mentioned that to him, and that those neighbors had a bunch of rocks and junk along the edge. That the well was only about 10 feet from the property line. The guy said that didn't bother him. That he was coming back out to take another look at the property. 

He asked me why I was selling it, and I said we just don't need it. That I don't HAVE to sell it. And that I want the asking price, not any back-and-forth. He seems really interested."

Well. That's certainly good news. Seems like The Universe has thrown us a bone, heh, heh. 

I don't think Realtor would find that reference very humorous at this time!

Oh, and when Hick was texting me on Monday, he accidentally sent one to Realtor instead of me! I hope it wasn't the text saying it might take her arm a while to heal "at her age!" She is only slightly older than Hick. She called him after that, apologizing that she missed their meeting and hadn't notified him, and gave a few more details.

It's good that Realtor didn't have a bone to pick with Hick...

The Universe Found This Humerus...

We recently listed our other 10 acres for sale. It's on another road in our enclave, and was purchased when Genius was a toddler, and The Pony was a baby. It was for investment purposes. The original plan was to have it for the boys when they grew up, to divide and build homes. With neither of them having a desire to do that now that they are adults, the plan is to sell the property and give the proceeds to them. It's the property where HOS (Hick's Oldest Son) lived for a couple years in a trailer before he moved to town.

This property has a well, and septic tank, and access to electricity with a pole ready to plug into and activate. There's a flat section suitable for home-building, and a lot of woods that slope down to a creek. A metal building on the property can be used as a workshop, or for storage.

Anyhoo... for a couple years, a friend of Hick had been planning to buy it, with a firm offer and some money down. Then last summer, he said his wife changed her mind. No hard feelings. Hick gave him his money back, even though he didn't expect it. Another crony had been awaiting a chance to buy it. The Pony periodically asked about the progress of this sale, but Hick was not following through with getting a firm commitment, or listing it.

Last week, Hick called Realtor, and took her a map showing the plot of land. As with most real estate ventures Thevictorians have attempted lately, something went awry! The address we have always used for this property was actually for a different plot of land, only five acres, behind the neighboring property.

I was in a panic, but Hick said that Realtor told him it was nothing to worry about. That our records showed we clearly owned a 10-acre plot of land, and it could be cleared up by contacting the title company from our original purchase. She was right. There's no problem with the ownership or property lines. It's just that there's no numbered street address.

Anyhoo... on Monday, Realtor listed that property on her site. She told Hick that she had three people interested, and it had only been on there one day. One of the men had called her, asking where the well was located. Which means he had physically driven to the property and walked around. Hick went up to take a picture, and scheduled a meeting with Realtor the next morning, to explain it to her and sign papers.

Hear that? It's our old friend, The Universe, laughing its fool head off!

I got a text from Hick at 10:34 Tuesday morning:

"Val. Realtor fell and is at emergency room so she won't be in office today."

"Oh no!"

"She says that they are saying she broke her humorous bone"

"Humerus. That's the upper arm."

"She said that she fell and landed on her shoulder. That could take a while to heal at her age."

So now we have a property with several prospective buyers wanting to see it, and Realtor is in no shape to drive out here and give a tour. Hick says she can drive with one arm, because he does it all the time!

I feel bad for Realtor. I hope she can heal with just a sling, and not need surgery, and that they give her painkillers as needed. She may want to sit in her office and take phone calls and attend closings, but I don't see her showing properties for a while. Hick says she has another guy working with her in her office, so I guess he could help out with that stuff.

It's always something...

Val Almost Gave Hick One Less Thing To Do

T-Hoe is still waiting for an oil change. Hick is just SO BUSY. So busy that he asked me to search eBay for a display device for some wares at his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5). Then he had to approve which one, and decided I should order two. He will reimburse our household coffers with his business money, but I will never get that hour of my life back, nor a thank-you.

See how helpful Val is to Hick? In fact, I even took a day-to-day duty away from him. Almost. You may recall that I'm pretty sure he's trying to kill me. Every attempt is different. Sunday night, I almost took that chore away.

Hick had already gone to bed. It was around 9:00, and I was sitting at the kitchen table with HIPPIE, skimming the innernets, and having a snack. That snack was a little bowl of COMBOS, the Pizza Flavor Pretzel version. They're little hollow pretzel tubes, filled with not-quite-cheese in a powdery form. I prefer the versions that have a hollow cracker rather than the pretzels, but they are hard to find, and the pizza flavor is okay.

Anyhoo... when I eat this snack, I bite them in half. Not because they're too big, but because if you leave them regular size, they need more chewing, and get soggy faster. So I bite them in half to eat them. Here is a re-creation, to show what my snack looks like:

I was near the last of my treat when I felt a sharp pain in my gums. The area behind my two front teeth. Huh! That smarted. But I thought nothing of it. Just a shard of pretzel. The pain went away quickly. Then I noticed that my mouth and lips felt really dry. I just had my metal water bottle there, having finished my Shasta Zero Sugar Cola, to which I add a fresh squeezed lemon, earlier in the evening. I took a sip of water, and then used half a select-a-size paper towel to blot my lips.

BLOOD!!!!

That paper towel looked like I had applied a whole tube of lipstick before blotting. I blotted again and again, with the same result. It was like the never-ending lipstick, only my lipstick was BLOOD! I went to the bathroom mirror, and saw that indeed, my lips were covered, and my tongue was coated with blood! That's not good!

Back to the kitchen, where I used a red SOLO cup for cold water to rinse my mouth. The spit came out bloody. Over and over! AND two raggedy hunks of gum-skin slipped down the drain! Again, there was no pain. Just a waterfall of blood that would not stop. In fact, as I sat at the table again, I could feel dripping from my gum to my bottom lip. 

All I could do was let it flow. It's not like you can put a bandaid on a cut behind your two front teeth. Holding a folded paper towel there with pressure did nothing. I had to keep swallowing, and blotting. It went on for two hours! You know any little wound on your face or scalp bleeds a lot. Same with the gums, I suppose. I take an aspirin a day, so I know my blood flows more, and more easily, than most people. But I was starting to get worried.

Good thing I'm no longer on that demon drug Xarelto! I literally could have exsanguinated! And poor Hick. Not only would he have been without my cheerful companionship, but he might have been blamed! The house would have looked like a crime scene! And that luminol stuff would have made the places I cleaned up glow with the evidence. Two drains would show that somebody had tried to wash off blood!

I should probably stop watching those how-to-murder-your-wife shows. And stop eating COMBOS, the pretzel version.

Hick and The Universe Have a Regular Last-Laugh-Fest

I mentioned yesterday how Hick's luck seems to have changed. It's like the Bizarro World episode of Seinfeld. But wait, I'm getting ahead of myself.

What I DIDN'T tell you was that something else happened before Hick's uncharacteristic scratcher win. I got a text at 1:30.

"Val my truck broke. I'm at Mick's shop."

Of course I called Hick, who seemed out of breath. Not sure why. It's not like he pushed SilverRedO several miles. Or DID he? Nope. Turns out something went wrong and SilverRedO would not go more than 15 miles per hour. 

Hick had been at The Pony's house mowing. Then partway home, SilverRedO developed that acceleration problem. Hick said he just kept going (SLOWLY) the six or seven miles to Mick's shop. I offered to get dressed and come to town early to get him, but Hick said he would call The Pony, who picked him up and brought him the five miles home.

Hick hung out here for an hour, then took A-Cad to town to meet with his buddies for their Friday afternoon bull-shooting session. On the way home he picked up that single winning lottery ticket. Hick and The Universe were even-steven, having traded last laughs. The ball was in The Universe's court.

Saturday, Hick went to the gas station down by his SUS2.5 (Storage Unit Store 2.5) for a soda, and stopped to play one of those fake slot machines that are so plentiful around here. I asked if he spent his scratcher winnings, but he said no, it was still on the coffee table. 

"I put in a twenty, and played a little bit. Then I won $200! I cashed that out, and figured I could put a twenty back in. Then I won $60! So I cashed out and left!"

I fear what The Universe has in store for Hick next...

So back to the Bizarro World... The Universe has allowed me to have a working T-Hoe now, but my scratcher winnings have suffered. And now Hick has a SilverRedO problem, but is raking in money hand over fist.

I am ready for things to get back to normal, though not at the expense of T-Hoe's health.

Hick Fights, for His Right, to FORRRTY!

Hick was incensed Friday afternoon, waving a lottery ticket. He rarely buys scratchers, because he's just not lucky with them. Maybe because he only buys one at a time, so the odds are not with him.

"I stopped to buy a five-dollar lottery ticket, and the gal gave me the wrong one! She gave me a ten-dollar ticket!"

"She can't do that! Lottery is highly regulated!"

"I only gave her five dollars. I said, 'That's not what I wanted! I asked for the Number 16. Not THAT one!' And she said, 'But I gave you a ten-dollar ticket!' And I told her I didn't want it, to give me what I asked for."

"OH! So you didn't TAKE the ten-dollar ticket."

"No. I made her take it back."

Then I saw the ticket Hick was waving around in his fit of pique was a five-dollar ticket, red, the newest release. It's the kind he bought from the guy at his SUS2.5, the thousand-dollar winner.

I was headed to town, and walked past Hick into the kitchen. He was scratching in the living room. Then I heard him holler.

"I got a 5X!"

"Oh. That's good. Especially for YOU!"

"Yeah. It's five times eight!"

"That's $40! Congratulations!"

"It looks like that's my only winner."

"Usually that's it, when you get a multiplier. That's great, on a five-dollar ticket."

I'm happy for Hick. He got it at the School-Turn Casey's. I haven't been there in over a month, because of road construction along that route. It's near the place where Hick goes for his Friday afternoon bull-shooting session with his cronies.

I probably would have forked over five more dollars, and taken the ten-dollar ticket. I hate to make a clerk shove an already-torn-off ticket back into their display, and I don't like to slow down the line. I figure it happens for a reason. But Hick is not a regular player, and does the opposite of what I do. This time it paid off for him, because he would have missed his $40 winner that he asked for.

Excuses, Excuses

Friday morning, I began my quest to be excused from jury duty. I was afraid it wouldn't get done, what with it being Friday at 11:30. First of all, people don't like to do work on Fridays! Some offices even close at noon on Fridays. I was too busy to deal with it on Thursday, when Hick brought in the mail at 4:30 as I was on my way to town. 

Anyhoo, I went online to fill out my juror information. Then I called my doctor's nurse practitioner's office. After I pushed '7' to talk to a real person about 'other' on their automated system, I got a very nice lady who took about 10 minutes getting all my info.

Nice Lady asked how long I had to get this done. I told her 10 days from receipt of my letter, which was the previous day. I told her the reason I needed the excuse, that the NP had done it for me previously, and that this letter said it could be mailed or emailed to the court by the NP, rather than sending it to me. Nice Lady said they didn't do emails, so they would mail it or try to fax it. But my letter didn't have a fax number. Nice Lady said to call their office back in three business days, to check the status. That she had detailed information written down, so anybody there should be able to tell me.

Around 12:00, I got a call from Another Lady at the NP's office. She said my NP was ON VACATION, but that Other NP would be sending a letter for me. I have never heard of Other NP, but figured it was better than not having a letter! Another Lady said she was faxing it over to the circuit clerk right then.

Well! That's good service. But you know Val. If anything can go wrong... Now I would be worried if that fax got to the right place. I still had nine days left. I had given my phone number and email in the juror questionnaire, which normally I wouldn't do, but I figured they would notify me.

At 12:20, I got both a text and an email!

_________________________________________________________________

TEXT: 

Your jury disqualification request has been granted. You are not required to report.

_________________________________________________________________

eMAIL: 

Your jury service at COUNTY NAME CIRCUIT COURT.

You are disqualified from jury service for Mental or Physical Illness or Infirmity and do not have to appear. No further action is required on your part.

__________________________________________________________________

Take THAT, The Universe! Who's guffawing now?

I'm pretty sure my excuse is for Infirmity. Surely nobody would think it's Mental Illness...