Farmer H, In The Living Room, With A Grindstone

Farmer H has attempted yet ANOTHER method of doing away with me! Can losing your nose to the friction of a grindstone be fatal?

Tuesday, we checked into getting Farmer H off my health insurance and onto medicare. His critical birthday is a few months off, and now is the time to set up the process. I have an insurance rep that can assist. Don't get me started on THAT interaction!

Anyhoo... to make an informed choice of a supplement, we need to submit Farmer H's regular meds, and doctors, for a comparison of insurance benefits from different providers.

Let the record show that Farmer H takes a PLETHORA of prescriptions. I asked if he could get a printout from his pharmacy, to be accurate. SWEET GUMMI MARY! He came home with four pages! The listing is totally random. Some of the most recent refill dates, and some back into 2018. No rhyme nor reason.

Of course it's my job to sort this out. That's not the issue. I sure wouldn't want to take a chance on HIM doing it! The issue is with Farmer H's attitude! I know, right? I'm sure you're picking your jaw up off the floor. NOT.

"I don't see what the big deal is. Just send her a copy of that list. Scan it and attach it."

"Do you know how long it takes me to scan something? And what if she can't open attachments? I'm going to go through those four pages, marking out the duplicates that are outdated, and type up a coherent list. I might attach it. Or type it into the email itself."

"I don't know why you'd go to all that trouble. I can send her a picture right now. Get me the list, and I'll take a picture, and email it!"

This is why Farmer H is not the one in charge of this process.

Oh, but BEFORE I even brought up how it was going to take me a while to get that list ready, Farmer H had plopped himself down on the long couch, and said,

"Can you do something for me?"

"What NOW? What else do you want me to do for you?"

"It's not a big deal. It's easy. I need a sign. 30 of them. Saying 'Trunk of Treat at the Backroads Flea Market." With the date and time. Oh, and a picture."

"Is black and white okay? I don't know if the color printer is working. I have to walk into the workshop to check on it every time I try to print to it."

"Yeah. In color. I'll even take it to town to make the copies. So you don't have to."

"That's a good thing, because I don't think we have that much colored ink."

Here's the thing. Farmer H thinks I'm his personal secretary. If these tasks are so easy, then he should do them himself. If not, then he should shut up about the way I plan to do them.

Here's the MAJOR thing. It's not like Farmer H does anything for ME! I still have a leaky tire on T-Hoe. My side mirror still doesn't work. The garage door opener still needs a battery. And FRIG II's ice-maker is still on the fritz.

This goose is going on strike if that gander doesn't start making an effort.