Tuesday, February 27, 2024

The Pony Should Not Be Held Captive

I feel bad for Farmer H meddling in The Pony's home life. On Saturday evening, I called Farmer H to see when he'd be home. I was holding off starting his supper. He said 

"I'm on my way to Pony's house right now with a dresser."

That's a whole other story, which might be told elsewhere eventually. Just know that it's a dresser The Pony had said he could use in his second bedroom, but that Farmer H was taking it there out of the blue.

I immediately called The Pony to warn him. Farmer H has a bad habit of barging in whenever it's convenient for him, to use The Pony's bathroom while he's at work, or to drop off something on the spur of the moment. The phone rang many times, then The Pony answered.

"You must be like Dad, able to see through the phone, and call at the worst time, heh, heh! Dad just got here and we were carrying in the dresser."

"Okay. I was just warning you that he was coming."

"At least he called me this time. But yes, I do not like him coming unannounced. I want to at least make sure I have pants on. And he was here earlier this week, complaining about my boxes in the living room. AND he went in the kitchen, and he had no business there."

Let the record show that The Pony had a new laptop, and a desk chair delivered early in the week. So the boxes were still there. The trash pickup is Tuesday, but The Pony said the boxes would blow around even if he had trash pickup since then. So he was planning to burn the boxes in the back yard. (People do that around here.) And that Farmer H told him to do it THAT DAY after getting the dresser, but it was SO WINDY that even I had trouble standing when a gust hit me while walking into 10Box.

Anyhoo... The Pony got his boxes burned on Sunday afternoon. There's a flat spot up by the gravel alley behind his house that is away from homes and trees. He had a 2-liter bottle that once held soda, full of water, to put out any sparks that might have lit into the grass. It was all done by the time I stopped by (announced earlier that morning).

Anyhoo... The Pony should not have to live life wondering when Farmer H might barge in and spout criticism over his housekeeping skills. The Pony has 20 months of payments into that house already. It no longer belongs to Farmer H!

3 comments:

  1. I am with the Pony, I wouldn't like it either! My mother liked to meddle and show up unexpectedly to everyone's home and if she fond no one home she was insulted and would leave a note that said "I was here, where were you?" No need to sign it, everyone knew who it was. I would never just show up at one of my children's homes, they have lives, after all!! I think I am such a stickler about it because I go out of my way to NOT be like Mother.

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  2. I agree. You'll have to find some method of getting through to Farmer H that he needs to ask BEFORE turning up and that he shouldn't just go wandering through all the rooms as if they were his.
    We aren't allowed to burn stuff here, so when people get things like TV's delivered they try to cram the empty box into the recycle bin leaving no room for any other recycling and we only have the one bin for four flats. Others just toss the box on the ground either near the bins or out by where the rubbishe gets collected from. Guess who goes out there with her trusty little Stanley Knife (box cutter) and cuts everything into small enough squares that it will fit in the bin leaving plenty of room?

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  3. Kathy,
    I find such actions horrifying, because I DO NOT want people in my house unless I've prepared for them. Show up on my doorstep, and that's where you'll remain while I speak to you from the threshold, blocking your way! And only until I can find an excuse to get rid of you.

    ***
    River,
    That's a hard concept to teach THE KING OF THE WORLD, Farmer H!

    You are so kind! And just a little bit frightening, considering that you know how to cut thing into tiny pieces with your knife! I asked The Pony if he could break down the boxes until they were flat, and slide them into his trash can. He said that was too much trouble! That he'd rather burn them.

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