Sometimes A Sung Hero

You might think I do a lot of complaining about Farmer H. That's because I DO! You might also think that a fraction of these complaints are valid. THEY ARE! But there are also times when Farmer H is an unsung hero to his buddies he helps for free (and seemingly donates entire trailers to, heh, heh). And to the elderlies in the senior apartments when he answers his phone 24/7/365 to go let them in when they lock themselves out.

Thursday night, Farmer H became my sung hero. I'm singing his praises here now.

You know I've told Farmer H for years that my garage door opener doesn't work. It takes up to 10 squeezes to make that door open sometimes! He always brushed me off with "It might have a bad battery." Yet would make no effort to get me one. Or even pry that thing open so I could see what it needed.

This week, T-Hoe's clicker has been cantankerous. I figure some of it might be the weather. I've been bringing the garage door opener in the house, rather than let it linger in the below-freezing temperatures in T-Hoe's garage lair at night. But my key clicker is always with me. Inside. Warm.

I told Farmer H on Wednesday night about it. Along with several other things that were vitally important then, which I can't remember now. How I was going to get locked out of T-Hoe and freeze to death! He kind of chuckled. But said he thought they both took the flat watch-style batteries, and he had a bunch of them at his SUS2.5. He was going to Illinois for business on Thursday, but said he'd bring batteries home when he passed by his store on the way back.

Thursday was so cold that I put off errand day until Friday. I didn't want to get stranded if Farmer H was in another state. I DID go to town, just for my scratchers. T-Hoe's clicker took several tries, but worked.

Farmer H came home with the batteries. I said he didn't have to put them in right that moment, because I was starting my tickets. He said he was going to run a hot bath. Temps were dropping from the low 20s into single digits overnight.

Farmer H made his own supper after the bath. A generic Hot Pocket filled with pepperoni and cheese. Because he ate a big restaurant lunch on his trip, and wasn't very hungry. He came to the kitchen for three desserts. Good thing he wasn't hungry! He had a marshmallow cookie, a Drumstick, and a handful of Payday mix that I keep refilling until the candy corn runs out. He was just in his tighty-whities after the bath. Meanwhile, I was sitting at the kitchen table in my regular sweatpants, shirt, sweatshirt, socks, and Crocs, with my under-table heater going, freezing to death.

Shortly after 8:00, Farmer H returned to get the batteries and my clicker and garage door opener from the kitchen table. He took them to the living room, where I heard prying, and the plastic of the battery package. About 20 minutes later, Farmer H was back in the kitchen, 

PUTTING ON HIS SWEATSHIRT!

"Wait! What are you doing?"

"I'm goin' out to make sure these work with the new batteries."

"LIKE THAT??? You'll freeze to death! The temperature is about 14 right now! If you fall down, I can't rescue you! You'll die!"

"I'll be fine."

Off he went. Bare legs and camouflage Crocs and a non-hooded sweatshirt! The arctic blast as he shut the door set me to shivering.

About five minutes later, Farmer H was back. "The garage door works. But your clicker don't. I'll take it apart again and see if there was a back on the battery."

There was not. But he hadn't pushed the battery all the way down, so it wasn't making a connection. Farmer H WENT BACK TO THE GARAGE to test T-Hoe's clicker again. This time it worked.

Good thing he tried them out. Otherwise I would have been fumbling around with freezing hands, using a key to lock and unlock T-Hoe.

Farmer H is my hero. Albeit a not very smart one when it comes to possible hypothermia.

Farmer H Can't Feed Himself

Farmer H has had no problem with eating some form of ham for supper every night since Thanksgiving. He loves ham. Now it's almost the weekend again, and I have put off the weekly errand day because of the frigid temperatures. I asked Farmer H if there is anything he wants from the store.

"No. Not really. Nothing I can think of."

"You never think of anything. Until the day after I do the shopping. You're out of the little sandwiches you take to your store for lunch. Do you want the cheeseburgers, or the chicken, or the Buffalo chicken, or the sausage patties?"

"I like them all. It don't really matter. But I wonder if you could find some Hot Pockets."

"I'm sure I can find them. But they're not on the 5-for-$25 deal."

"They can't be THAT expensive."

"Everything I buy at Country Mart is about $2 more than what I could get it for at 10Box. I'm pretty sure 10Box and Save A Lot also have Hot Pockets. But I'll get you some tomorrow at Country Mart. Just this once! What kind do you want?"

"I think they have pepperoni. Or ham. I like both."

"Okay. I'll look."

"I have trouble eating my lunch. I'll warm it in the microwave, but then a customer comes in, and I don't get to eat it. And I always forget the chips, because there are people coming in. My buddy said I need to go out to the truck for 30 minutes, just to get a lunch break. Or lock the door."

"Yeah. You could lock the door, with a sign that says what time you'll be back."

"I could do that. Or I won't get a chance to eat some days."

We all know that Farmer H is not a logical thinker. At least he has people telling him how to eat lunch.

Bringing Home The Bacon

Roles were reversed here at the Mansion on Tuesday evening, and I ain't talkin' about Sister Schubert's! 

When temps were not rising on Tuesday to melt the snow, I stayed home. Farmer H said he'd bring me lottery tickets. YAY! I was happy to relinquish that daily duty to him! I was also happy when Farmer H declared that he would just cook himself some eggs for supper Tuesday evening!

After all, I had brought home the bacon (before Thanksgiving, when I got two smaller packs, but then found the thick-cut kind I use for the roasted vegetables). And also, I had bought another dozen eggs on Monday, and some biscuits, thinking Farmer H might like them with some ham for a supper this week.

Here's the thing. I don't fry eggs. I don't like them that way. I will scramble or boil, but if you want a fried egg around here (or three), you have to do that for yourself. I offered to make the (canned) biscuits for Farmer H, but he said no, he didn't need them. He couldn't decide on ham or bacon. When I said I had two extra packs, he picked bacon.

While I lay down for a late nap, Farmer H fried himself bacon and eggs, and added three Hawaiian rolls to the meal. He was happy. I was happy. 

All I had to do was clean up the bacon grease left in the pan before washing it and the egg-encrusted plate and fork. Baby steps...

Trapped Again

I made it to town just fine yesterday. The snow was light, and had just started adhering to bridges. The roads were okay. I got a wet head because I don't have a jacket with a hood. I had to drive through the Gas Station Chicken Store parking lot, because a handicap car was in my rightful space, and a FREE AIR guzzler was in the other space. I'm not walking across the lot from the moat in freezing wind and snowfall!

First I went over to Casey's, where my space was available. I should have saved myself the trouble, because none of their tickets won. The GSCS paid back $10. And the Liquor Store gave me $25. I'm glad I didn't walk out. I waited 15 minutes for those winners!

Two women had entered as I was hobbling along the front of the Liquor Store. They had driven onto the lot, parked, and made it inside just ahead of me. I hoped they were shopping the aisles, or playing the fake slot machines. But no. They had just bellied up to the checkout. Fair and square, but I was not happy to cool my knees in line while the snow was coming down harder.

First Gal wanted smokes. The guy clerk had to go look for them. They were making small talk about her Thanksgiving. She had some kind of drink that was really good. It was in orange juice, but she couldn't taste the liquor. Which seems that she must really like orange juice, since she raved about how good that drink was. She had her customer number memorized. I think there's some kind of bonus benefits for that. She took her stuff and left.

Second Gal wanted cigarettes. A large Sprite with 3/4 ice. They have some special kind of soda here, that people are always coming in for. Since the fake slot machines now take up the wall where the soda fountain was, the clerks have to go make the soda from the one by the drive-thru window. THEN she wanted some little whiskey shooters. The clerk told her it would be cheaper to just buy a bottle.

"Oh, I'm not that kind of drinker."

Second Gal wanted five of them. I'm pretty sure she was going to share with First Gal, saying that she just THOUGHT she didn't want any after her Thanksgiving bender. I think they were headed for some kind of party/get-together, from what I heard on their way in. 

Anyhoo... then she paid with her card, but it was rejected for not being inserted fully. I was glad she FINALLY left, even though she was friendly and telling me about the weather while the clerk was getting her soda. I'm pretty sure a couple of those shooters got poured right in the minute she got to the car.

I made it home fine. More snow/ice came later. All the schools called off for Tuesday. So I didn't get out. The high temperature was 26 degrees. With clouds all day. The main roads were probably fine, but I can't stand the cold. 

Farmer H got scratchers for me. We'll see how they turn out.

Dang Forecasters

Such a career! These news "meteorologists" dress up nice and go on camera and tell us based on their scientific knowledge and unlimited electronical gewgaws WHEN we are getting snow, and HOW MUCH there will be in our area. POPPYCOCK! The Farmer's Almanac could probably forecast just as well!

How in the NOT-HEAVEN is Mrs. HM supposed to plan her day?

I checked the news Monday morning, because I'd seen online that snow was in our forecast again. I watched at 5:48 AM, and again at 7:00. Hillmomba would be okay until around 8:00 PM. I was a little worried about Farmer H coming home from an auction. But it would just be starting, and we were only in the trace/1 inch band.

At 11:00, I looked again, to be sure. I was planning my town trip for 2:30. Nothing to worry about, said the meteorologist. Some schools in the county above us were dismissing early. The radar showed that we were getting snow. She even showed the radar. "It looks like we're getting snow, but we're not. It's still to the northwest. The air is so dry that this is not reaching the ground. I just stuck my head out, and there's nothing." 

I went to the kitchen to wash some of the leftover dishes. I had cut the turkey off the thighs and wings earlier, to freeze with the white meat, for a future turkey pot pie. The night before, I had frozen some "vinchtables," and the green beans. Farmer H finished off the deviled eggs, and the hash brown potatoes. He didn't want the rest of the stuffing. So I had those containers as well.

WHAT'S THIS???

I glanced out the window, and saw SNOW! I'm pretty sure it was reaching the ground. That would explain the white coating.

It's 12:30 now. I'm trying to decide if I'm going to town. I can put off my shower and innernetting until I get back home. None of the schools around here have called off early. 

Whoopsie! Farmer H just called and said the auction is cancelled. He SAID the schools are calling off, but I find no evidence of that on the closings list. 

GOTTA GO!

Suddenly, I'm More Persuasive Than Usual

During the frigid weather and windy snow on Saturday, I looked out the laundry room door window, and saw ICE covering my little Jack's water bowl! It wasn't solid yet. A cracked layer on top. The thing is, it's a HEATED water bowl! And it was plugged in.

There had been two heated water bowls. Unplugged, for summer. When we got Lucky (the still missing rescue dog), I told Farmer H to take one of the water bowls out to his house. That's because Farmer H said that on one day, Lucky had stepped in his water bowl and turned it over. These have sloped sides. Not easy to tip over. Even when Pupsie (the still missing dog Scarlett [the happily re-adopted Australian Shepherd] had stolen and brought home) used to dig all the water out with her paws.

Anyhoo... I told Farmer H in a text. He replied that he'd have to take a look at it and see why it wasn't working! Well. That would do my little Jack no good when he was thirsty! The fake fish pond has had ice on it for a few days, never thawing during the day in the shade. So he couldn't drink there.

Also, I'd been telling Farmer H to put more cedar shavings in the doghouse outside the kitchen door. It used to belong to my Sweet, Sweet Juno. But both The Pony and Farmer H said they'd seen Jack come out of it. He used to prefer sleeping in the haybales over on Shackytown Boulevard during cold weather. Maybe he wants to stay closer to us, now that his companions are gone.

Anyhoo... Farmer H had been putting me off. Saying, "I'm pretty sure I have part of a bag in the garage." Yet he never brought any out.

I told him by text:

"Please get cedar shavings and a water bowl! I'm worried about Jack in the cold."

AND HE DID!!!

On the way home Saturday, Farmer H stopped by Rural King, and indeed came home with a bag of cedar shavings, and a new heated water bowl.

I wish I knew how to be that persuasive all the time! I think Farmer H might feel a bit of guilt for not yet getting me another dog.

The Never-Ending Day

Sweet Gummi Mary! This day seems 72 hours long! It's Saturday. As forecast (for once), our snow showed up in the wee hours this morning. It took Farmer H 45 minutes to get to his SUS2.5. Surely you didn't think he'd stay home! On his way out the door, he said,

"I probably won't do much business, but my people will be there!"

We were supposed to get two inches. I could see that when daybreak came shortly after 7:00, being delayed by the gloominess. By 9:00, I could see where the squirrels had scampered away part of the snow on the porch rail. At 11:00, a melt was in progress. Now it's 1:21, and there's still a bit of snow on the grass, and on the porch deck.

Even worse, it's now RAINING! Not a lot. Just enough to be sloppy. The temperature is up to 38. But I'm NOT GOING TO TOWN! The wind is gusting to 33 mph. I'm cold just sitting here with my undertable heater. I had planned for this scenario. I got some extra scratchers yesterday, and asked Farmer H to pick me up some crosswords and Christmas Lights tickets before he comes home.

I would survive a trip to town. I'm pretty sure the snow is melted off the pavement. T-Hoe has been refurbished. I regret missing one of Fave's days at the Gas Station Chicken Store, since they were also closed on Thanksgiving. But I don't want to get wet. I don't need a chill.

I've done a load of laundry. Washed the dishes. Added a can of green beans to the leftovers so they'll last longer. Built and ate a delicious bacon/turkey/salad wrap. Wrote out checks to pay the Lowe's bill, and our personal credit card bill. Typed up two blog posts on still-kickin' HIPPIE with his cantankerous space bar. I'm thinking about filling out Farmer H's business tax form, to get his business license for next year. Nothing good is on TV. I conquered Wordle.

There's only about 4 hours left until Farmer H is home with my scratchers...