Saturday, August 10, 2019

Third Time's NOT a Charm, Nor Charming, Nor Even Borderline Acceptable

The saga will not end! Farmer H cannot let it go! Oh, how I rue the day I found an odd piece of metal in the road down by the mailboxes!

For the THIRD time, Farmer H is telling me what I found, even though it's NOT TRUE, and I've PROVED that it's not true! Time ONE. And Time TWO.

Saturday evening, Farmer H started jawing about another gun that he bought. Of course I don't know what kind it was, even though he told me, as if I was remotely interested, and as if I know anything about guns.

"I seen that somebody must have busted the barrel. One side of it has a notch out of it. It may have been cracked, and they tried to fix it. I need to look closer. But I know how I can fix it. Lead is really soft, and easy to melt. I could take that tire weight you found--"

"WAIT A MINUTE! First of all, I found it, and it's mine, to do with what I want. Who says I want to give it to you to melt it down? And anyway, it's NOT LEAD! I've told you that twice!"

"Yes it is. Lead. That's what they make those tire weights out of."

"You told me it wasn't a car weight, because 1/2 OZ would be too heavy! But now you say they make them out of lead, which is HEAVY!"

"They've always made them out of lead."

"Nooo... it's iron. Remember? It has FE on it. Which is the symbol for iron. And when I LOOKED THEM UP, the description for online buyers clearly said they were IRON, treated with something."

"Oh. Well. FE. Yeah. It could be iron. I haven't used the stick-on kind. So it might be iron."

I'm pretty sure Farmer H planted that little piece of metal down there for me to find it. So he could use it to drive me crazy. He might even have taken a piece of lead and embossed it with FE to make me think it was iron.

I'll probably lay awake at night, wondering when Farmer H is going to deny my valid information again. My brain will be all muddled from lack of sleep. My appearance will grow unkempt. I will sit on the short couch, rocking back and forth, stroking my tiny piece of metal which is supposed to be 1/2 OZ of iron. I'll lose interest in my little Jack and Sweet, Sweet Juno. I'll forego the daily 44 oz Diet Coke trip in favor of polishing my precious tire weight. I'll forget to eat, and waste away...

I'm pretty sure Farmer H is trying to kill me.


5 comments:

Sioux Roslawski said...

Your precious. Your precious...

River said...

I think you should hide it somewhere really safe and tell him you've lost it. He might decide one day to melt it down and make sinkers for his fishing poles.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Sioux,
I was going to use that reference, but I'm not a LOTR fan, and only know it because of The Pony. So I didn't know if anyone would catch it.

***
River,
It's in my lair. Good luck to him trying to find it there! It's almost as hoardy as his BARn!

In fact, Farmer H said he's going to melt down his sinkers to fix his damaged gun barrel. Since my tire weight is actually IRON, not lead...

River said...

Can gun barrels BE fixed with lead? Isn't it too soft, too malleable? Wouldn't the heat of firing the gun have a detrimental effect on the fixed portion?

Hillbilly Mom said...

River,
I think (because I wasn't really listening) that maybe the barrel got split at the end, and was repaired with a metal band, and Farmer H plans to fill in the cracks around it and paint over it. Maybe.

I said he'd have to tell the buyer, and he said a buyer would notice, and that some buyers might actually want it AS IS, without the repair.