Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is in the double-dark.
Perhaps you haven't heard how Farmer H replaced the recessed floodlight in the living room ceiling with a bathroom floodlight half its size. There's a reason for that. You can't handle the truth. If you knew the hardship this puts on Mrs. Hillbilly Mom when she sits down in the La-Z-Boy to write bills, balance the checkbook, or read her tabloids...you would weep in commiseration.
Today I arrived home from work without my pack-mule Pony. He is spending the night with his grandma. I had to haul in assorted school bags and lunch bags and bubba cup o' ice water and prescription refills and the mail and my purse. I really miss that little fellow.
I paused mid-pack to parcel out some cat kibble for my sweet, sweet Juno. The unworthy Ann also enjoyed a token few nuggets. Once I had dumped everything on the kitchen counter, I reached to turn on the under-cabinet fluorescent lights. Snap crackle pop. The lengthy light bulb nearest the kitchen door commenced to fightin'. He blinked like a fiend, and emitted buzzy noises like a bug zapper. The flashes of light were virtually seizure-inducing.
When Farmer H got home, he took that over-excited light bulb out. He carried it down the basement steps. Not to torture it in his workshop chamber, but to compare it with spare light bulbs he has on a shelf in his shop.
Apparently, Farmer H has spares of the kinds of bulbs we don't need. He will be hunting for the necessities at The Devil's Playground tomorrow.
I am not holding my breath.
2 comments:
Years ago, Jeff Smith (I think that was his name) was the "Frugal Gourmet" and had his own PBS show.
What kind of things would the "Frugal Farmer H" talk about if he had his own show?
Sioux,
Farmer H could do a whole show on the repurposing of cast iron. How you can get great deals on cast iron cooking implements at an auction, then hang them on your garage between the doors. Or on your creekside cabin walls. But wait! You can take one off the nail and cook with it whenever you get the urge. Like when you are using Gassy-G, the gas grill you got for a steal at another auction, to plump up some sausages for supper, and decide on a side dish of potatoes and onions.
Don't forget to season that cast iron skillet with oil. A lot of oil. Apparently, the elements are not cast iron's friend.
Post a Comment