Yes. I'm Pretty Sure.

The fact that Mrs. HM is still here whining blogging after 35 years with Farmer H must surely be a miracle. You'd think a handy man such as Farmer H would not be such a failure at one simple task, that being to TRY AND KILL ME in assorted, untraceable ways! You never know what form that attempted extinguishment of the bright light that is Mrs. HM might take...

Farmer H, as with Genius when he lived here, has always wanted things OTHER PEOPLE HAVE. Mainly, snacks and treats designated for others in the household. No matter how many times they might have been asked what they wanted from the store, nor how many of their own requests were filled... they just had to dip into the treats of The Pony and Mrs. HM. Without asking. Without telling. Sometimes to the point of taking the last item and leaving the empty box. Genius has moved into his own household. But Farmer H is still here!

I came home Saturday, carried in my own groceries, and greeted Farmer H as he strolled in while I was putting them away. Such timing! I offered to make Farmer H a Wild Turkey and Shasta Zero Sugar Cola, and he said yes. I asked if he wanted a snack with it. Yes.

"Do you want a little bag of chips?"

"No."

"There's a big bag of Ruffles I got for you a couple BBQs with Pony ago. You never did open them."

"No."

"Do you want some of this stuff I got myself?"

"Yes."

"How much do you want?"

"I don't know. What is it?"

"You don't even know what it IS, but you want it! Because it's mine..."

"Well, what is it?"

"This Gardetto Snack Mix."

"Okay."

Farmer H got a bowl, and picked up the bag of snack mix. He plunged his hand into the bag. I could hear clawing and scraping as he dredged up a big fistful. Then more rooting around, and another.

"Do you HAVE TO DO THAT? You couldn't just pour it into a bowl? When is the last time you washed your hands?"

"Around noon."

"At your store? You don't even have running water. And I know the Port-A-Potty doesn't."

"I used a wet wipe."

"At noon. And you didn't get anything on your hands again all day?"

"Nope."

I took a chance. I ate some of my snack mix. Which I had bought for myself. Since Farmer H couldn't think of ANYTHING he wanted from any of my 2-3 trips to the store that week. And every week.

So far, I'm still kickin'...