Move Over, Jack! Farmer H Is On HIs Way To The Dog House!

One step forward and two steps back today, in the training of Farmer H. At first I was elated! I thought I had been getting through to him, making my message clear...

Farmer H sent me a text at 8:57.

"When you go outside you will see a Christmas wreath on your hood I forgot to bring it in with me."

Okay. That's good! Farmer H was notifying me so I wouldn't freak out about yet another unexplainable object appearing on my way to T-Hoe for my town trip. But probably he just didn't want me to drive off with the wreath balanced on the hood of the car.

Indeed, there it was, by the windshield where the passenger would be looking out. I grabbed the edge of it, my purse arm braced against T-Hoe to steady myself. My plan was to set it over on A-Cad. That quickly changed. It was a HEAVY wreath! The pine needle fronds (fake) were wound around a circular wreath (that seems redundant) of overlapping wires. Something made a screeching noise. Nope! I couldn't just pull it off the edge. I had to LIFT that awkward wreath. It was about two feet in diameter. I put it in a plastic bin that was on the garage floor. I couldn't tell what else was in there, and didn't particularly care. It was better than scratching A-Cad with the wreath.

I figured that Farmer H meant well. In the past, he would have just let me discover that wreath for myself. Which would probably have been as I was going up the driveway.

I had already made Farmer H's supper. It was the store-brand Hamburger Helper that is cheesy macaroni noodles in a sauce that makes it taste like a cheeseburger. I had put it into three Chinese containers, the round ones, so they could just be microwaved later, and I wouldn't have to dirty a pan.

When Farmer H was ready for supper, I made him some biscuits to go with it. I set out a paper plate, figuring he could set the round container on it, with his biscuits around one side of the plate. I set out the tub of margarine, Country Crock brand, because we only use real butter (Kerrygold) for holiday meals. I laid out a paper towel for his buttery (margarine-y) biscuit hands, and a fork. He always uses the fork to get the margarine out of the tub, even when I lay out a knife for him.

Anyhoo... I called Farmer H to the kitchen. I reminded him that he likes to grind black pepper over the top of it. I was headed back to HIPPIE on the kitchen table when I saw

FARMER H USING MY ICE KNIFE TO DIG INTO THE MARGARINE!

"Oh. Well. You always use your fork, but now... oh, never mind."

"Did I use your knife? I didn't even think about it."

"Well, it's in your hand with butter all over it. So I'd say you're using it. Can I not have ONE THING that's my own around here? Is it too much to ask that I have a knife to jab at the ice when it sticks together? Not a single thing to call my own!"

"Huh. I'm sorry. I just didn't think."

Nor did he think when he picked up his food to take to the living room. His buttered biscuits on the plate, and the hot Chinese container of cheeseburger mac on his other hand. He defies logic, that Farmer H!

To be fair, it WAS a butter knife that he commandeered. I've never seen an ice knife, heh, heh. But Farmer H and The Pony and even Genius KNOW that the knife on the cutting block is for ice emergencies.