Monday night, Farmer H went to an auction with This Guy, the one we bought the $5000 house from. Still no deed! Not This Guy's fault. It's being transferred to a trust for the children of HOS (Farmer H's Oldest Son).
Anyhoo... Farmer H left the Mansion at 4:00. At 8:55, he called me. Sometimes he does this on his way home, because he's bored.
"I need to come home and change my underwear!"
"Oh. Uh. Okay."
Seriously! Who calls to say something like this? It's like publishing a blog post about finding a turd in a rest area handicap stall! Nobody wants to hear that!
"I was almost to the bridge, and a car almost hit me head-on. It was less than 10 feet from me when it finally got over."
"On the lettered highway? Was he passing someone?"
"Yeah, he was passing. I come around the curve there by the big metal building. By the road to the big houses, with the horse pasture. And there he was, coming right at me. He barely got over. I was already starting off the road, by the gravel one that turns in to those other houses."
"I'm glad you're all right."
"I'm glad I'm all right, too! I'd rather stay alive."
"Yeah. They do that all the time there. Try to pass."
"Well, he was about to never do it again!"
"Did he hit the car?" [A-CAD!]
"Nah. I got over."
Thank the Gummi Mary, Farmer H is such a Master Sweaver. I'm sure he felt right at home with two wheels off the road...