The Mysterious Case Of The Key In The Mailbox

You might recall that just before BirthdayPalooza, I was having trouble getting one of The Pony's gifts. Namely, a lava lamp.

It was coming down to the wire. Wednesday, Feb. 20, I had a bit of hope. I found a key in EmBee! Right there inside the door, on EmBee's metal bottom, in front of the stack of crammed mail. I know EmBee is not as girthy as her traditionally-shaped neighbors, but there's plenty of room inside her, if you curl the stack of mail over. Even a wide envelope fits comfortably in her diameter. I think our mailman doesn't even try. Just jams all the odd ads in with neither rhyme nor reason.

Yes, I was excited by that key, because we were leaving the very next day, and this was the next-to-last chance to acquire the long-awaited lava lamp! Funny how this key wasn't on the hard plastic see-through keyring that goes to the four lock boxes the USPS has erected at the end of Mailbox Row. In fact, all four of those lock boxes still had keys stuck in them, our mailman having not harvested them after the last use. I figured maybe there was a problem with the keys. This one was different, but those lock boxes have another key slot at the bottom, which I figure the mailman uses to open them for depositing packages.

I took my new key, and practically skipped over to the lock boxes. I tried that key in all four slots. Huh. It went in, but it wouldn't turn. Not in any of the four. Well. That was a curious turn of events. What WAS this key? It was bigger than the regular keys. Flatter. No grooves along the sides, but curvy parts that mirrored each other on both sides. Huh.

I went on to town, but I called Farmer H to explain my predicament.

"I might have a package, The Pony's lava lamp. I've been expecting it forever. But the key in the mailbox doesn't fit the lock boxes. So I'm not sure what it is. It was in OUR mailbox. I left it there. I should have brought it to town, to ask the post office."

"I'm at my Storage Unit. I'll run home and get it, and see if it works." Farmer H called me back not much later. "I tried the key, but it didn't work. It almost looks like a car key, but it's too flimsy."

"Could it be a 4-wheeler key? Maybe HOS (Farmer H's Oldest Son) found the key he lost, and put it in our mailbox. He knows which one is ours."

An hour later, Farmer H called me back. "HOS said he didn't put it in there. So I took it to the post office, and the lady said it wasn't theirs. The best she could think of, Blackwell had an ad with keys attached. A lot of people have been asking about keys."

AHA! Mystery solved!

The flimsy metal keys had been stuck to the picture of the car, with that clear sticky stuff that stretches and peels off. I guess it wasn't sticky enough, or else the mailman was too rough with the ad. Farmer H actually took this flier to the dealer to try it, and was supposed to get a $5 gift card for his trouble, but the salesman told him the guy bringing the gift cards wasn't there yet, so Farmer H gave up.

I guess the key was for scratching that little car. We didn't even try that part. I might, just to know. As Farmer H says, most people throw these away, and the dealer likely won't have to award any of the big prizes. Even if he does, he surely has an insurance policy that will cover such an event.

Oh, the lava lamp arrived on Feb. 21! We purposely planned to leave after the mail arrived, or by 10:30. At 10:15, I drove down to check, and it wasn't there yet. So I drove up the road a bit just in case I saw the mailman. And I did! I came back and told Farmer H to turn everything off, and we hopped in already-loaded A-Cad to hit the road for BirthdayPalooza. A quick stop by EmBee revealed a key to the lock boxes, and we got the package that was The Pony's lava lamp.

Five minutes after he plugged it in, the bulb burned out. Farmer H says those bulbs are easy to replace. The Pony will be looking for one on his next trip to the store.

Some Days, The Forever Vacation Feels Like A Job

When I retired, my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel told me I would love The Forever Vacation. That's what she calls retirement. She was enjoying it several years before I. For the most part, it KICKS BUTT! I guess I had post-traumatic stress for the first year, because every night I would catch myself getting anxious, more so on Sunday nights, thinking about the next day--until I remembered I was RETIRED!

Now I don't give it a second thought. I've grown accustomed to staying up late and getting up late. Doing my own thing. The closest thing to a deadline is writing a weekly letter for the boys, and getting it to town before the mail goes out Friday morning. I can shop whenever I want at The Devil's Playground. Any day! Not just the weekend. I can make doctor appointments for any hour. Visit The Pony on a four-day road trip. Go to a casino at the drop of a hat. It's a great non-job if you can get it!

Some days, I have designated duties. Tuesday, for instance.

I'd made plans with my favorite gambling aunt to meet for lunch at 11:30. Farmer H knew this. Yet he left a note on the kitchen counter (sneakily, after I'd gone downstairs) for me to find. He tasked me with calling the electric company, for a folly project he has undertaken. I wasn't at all sure I could do this task, since Farmer H's name is on the account. I figured I'd give it a try before heading to town for lunch. I thought I allowed plenty of time...

I had all the info at my fingertips. Computer open, email account logged in, just in case they had to send me a code number. I had Farmer H's original paper plate, with his instructions and specifics. I had the statements for both accounts we already have for the house and BARn. I took the phone number off the statement, since the Electric Company didn't seem to want it to be found online.

My original call, after selecting the service I wanted from the automated line, gave me a recording that calls were at their peak, and I would have a considerable wait. Uh huh. Of course I would. That recording recommended that I help myself online. I went to their site, and typed in all kinds of info, trying to complete my mission. Of course there was always something just a little bit off. I reset passwords, started a new profile, jumped through every hoop. But no. After reaching the final stretch, I discovered that the task I was attempting COULD NOT BE DONE ONLINE, but needed a phone call with a service rep. Uh huh. There went an hour of my time.

I barely left the Mansion on time to make my lunch rendezvous at Pizza Hut. Halfway there, I heard my phone bloop. I was on the slow road past the bowling alley at the time, and glanced at it. A text from my favorite gambling aunt. I pulled over on the slow road behind the local high school to read it. Hm. She was going to be late, because she had company. I texted that I was already halfway there, so I'd go into The Devil's Playground to do my shopping. It's next to Pizza Hut. Then I wouldn't have to go after lunch, as I had planned.

As I was getting out of T-Hoe, my phone rang. Auntie said she had gotten rid of her company, and was putting on her pants to come meet me. Huh. Kind of informal with company, my pantsless Auntie. I asked if I should wait, or shop. She said she moves pretty slow, to go ahead and shop, and she'd wait for me in Pizza Hut.

On the third aisle of The Devil's Playground, I ran into my sister the ex-mayor's wife, and the ex-mayor himself. Of course we had to stop and chat, even though I'd spent 49 minutes on the phone with Sis the previous evening. Then the ex-mayor's sister-in-law stopped by. And we saw a common acquaintance, my old neighbor, and one of their fellow church members. When I got up front to check out, cashiers 1-5 were closed, so I had to walk halfway across the store from my parking end to pay. The Devil's Handmaiden was a friendly sort, and wanted to chat about the Ginger Beer I had bought for Farmer H. (More on this another day, perhaps.)

When I finally got to Pizza Hut, Auntie was inside reading a book on her phone. While lunching and gossiping, I got a text from the Department of Motor Vehicles, saying that Farmer H had left off a vital signature in his quest to recoup some of the sales tax between buying SilverRedO and selling his truck and TrailBlazer. So I knew there was THAT to deal with later.

As usual, Auntie and I extended our lunch well into the afternoon, leaving the waitress a good tip for her troubles. Okay, maybe not a GOOD tip, but an okay tip, mine being 22%, since I gave her all the change from my twenty after paying for my personal pan, and a medium pepperoni and breadsticks for Farmer H's supper.

From there I went for scratchers and a 44 oz Diet Coke (I had water with lunch, because I really wanted my 44). By the time I got home, it was 3:45, and I still needed to get that electric company business taken care of. I put away my groceries, hoping my slaw had not spoiled while sitting in T-Hoe's rear for 3.5 hours. I don't think so. It was in the soft-sided zippered cooler, with smoked sausage and mushrooms laying on top of it, with a towel over the top, covered by my quilted winter coat. I cranked back in the La-Z-Boy with all my electrical info, and GOT A REAL PERSON within two minutes, and got that chore done forthwith!

Farmer H came home, and filled out the copies I'd kept of his four-page submission to the DMV. So then all I had left to do was make four copies and address an envelope. Oh, and pay the A-Cad bill that came in the mail.

Those tax returns will just have to wait another day...

Our Not-Free Lodging Was Worth Every Penny

Our trip to visit The Pony was almost derailed, due to no room at the casino inn! I got us a room at La Quinta, though. We've never stayed there before, so I didn't know what to expect. WELL! I'd certainly stay there again! The ONLY problem we had was our key-card reader thingy on the door. It took several tries to make it release the lock, every time we tried to enter. Aside from that, the room was great.

The room was, in fact, quite roomy! We had two double beds (not queens, like most two-bed rooms) because that's what was available. Of course there was the standard desk and chair, a cushiony chair, a microwave, and a mini-fridge. The casino rooms don't have a microwave. The bathroom was just a normal bathroom, with a tub and shower. Nothing remarkable, except that our room did not have carpet. Instead, it had tile that looks like wood. I liked it! While driving around to various activities with The Pony, it suddenly hit me. There was no carpet, because La Quinta ALLOWS PETS!

We saw two doggies while there, both on leash and harness. One was an orangy/white old gal, with markings like a border collie. The other was a perky little Yorkie. The front desk had a cookie jar of dog treats for the canine guests upon check-in. Strangely enough, when we left on Sunday morning, the floor in front of the room across the hall had three large FEATHERS laying there. Bright yellow, and white. Maybe they had a bird? I hope there wasn't a massacre! I DID hear people talking loudly out there, after midnight. So maybe they came back from a party and had Mardi Gras masks or something that left the feathers. We'll never know.

A free breakfast was included with the room. Saturday, we had scrambled eggs, sausage patties, blueberry/banana nut/chocolate muffins, bagels, bananas, apples, and waffles. Yes. We gorged ourselves. But still, we didn't have any hot or cold cereal, or boiled eggs. And we didn't each have everything. We got there just in time, too! At about 7:55. At 8:00, a parade of hungry guests entered the dining area. The tables filled up quickly. We'd been lucky to snag ours, and very few had left. Apparently, there were three teams of (?) track athletes staying there.

I made sure Farmer H was ready to go to breakfast by 7:50 on Sunday morning, but there wasn't such a crowd that day, it turns out. We had scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits, gravy, muffins, and waffles. Farmer H took a banana and two apples for our return trip, and we took along our muffins for a snack on the road. Farmer H also had orange juice with his breakfast both days, but I don't like it because I get heartburn from it. Neither of us drinks coffee. We did have some of the water out of the big jug, but it had lemons in it, which made me not like it much.

Another slight complaint was the snack room, where you could buy items. We were thirsty Friday night, despite free soda at the casino. Farmer H wanted a soda (they didn't have a soda machine at this one), and I wanted a bottle of water. I also selected a bag of pretzels for us to share. We knew it would be expensive, but those treats cost us $7! A soda/water from a machine will run you $1.50 apiece. I guess those were very special pretzels. Not even a big bag. Kind of medium. Not a little individual, but like those Big Grab bags of chips. The clerk couldn't figure out what to charge us.

"Hm. Are these chips? Or are they crackers?"

"I don't know, but they were between the Sun Chips and the Popcorn."

Heh, heh. I guess that would have blown her mind, the POPCORN, which is neither chip nor cracker. Anyhoo... the next day, we got a case of water at the local Devil's Playground, when we took The Pony shopping. It was $2 and something for 12 bottles!

So... we would definitely stay at La Quinta again, if we can't get free casino rooms. They have an outdoor pool, which I am sure Farmer H would utilize in summer weather.

It's Hard Gosh-Darn Work Getting Free Lodging

By the time you read this, we'll be back. Back from our trip to visit The Pony for his birthday, with a side trip for my own birthday. Not so much a side trip as a halfway trip. A stop for an extra night, to break up the 9-hour drive. Of course it involves a casino.

Farmer H and I have offers for free nights at a casino halfway to The Pony. Doesn't interfere with our schedule to add another day to the trip. Lodging is free!

I called to reserve a room. The desk clerk was very polite and helpful. She saw that I had two different offers, one for two nights, and one for one night. She explained that they couldn't be combined. I said I'd take the one-night offer, since that's all the time we had on this trip. She got it all set up, and asked if I had any questions. Of course I did!

Farmer H had a coupon for $10 free play upon checkout. I did not have such a coupon for myself. I asked if Farmer H could still get the free play at checkout if the room was in my name. Clerky said that he could not. "Do you want me to switch the reservation to his name?"

"I'd like that, but I figure you can't, since he would have to give you the information himself, and he's upstairs in bed right now."

"Oh, that's right. Well, he can call us and we can switch it over. Or you can do it when you check in! Just come to the desk, and all we have to do is change it into his name and player's number."

"That sounds great! We'll do that."

That part of my FREE ROOM QUEST went great. The next part, not so much.

We've been staying at the casino in Norman when we visit The Pony. I have free nights twice a month. Thing is, the free nights are Sunday thru Thursday, and now that The Pony is back in classes, he's available on the weekend. Specifically Friday (he's out of class by noon) and Saturday. He has other activities on Sunday evenings, with a chemistry organization.

I knew when I called that I could not get a free night on the days we were staying. However, once before, the desk clerk had finagled things around and let me use my two free nights at the same time, and not one during the first half of the month, and the other for the last half. I'd told her I was worried that I couldn't see any rooms available online. She assured me that their policy was to keep rooms available for the people with comp offers, so the rooms available to the general public sold out fast. Good to know.

When I called this time, around 11:30 p.m., I got a clerk who was polite enough, but didn't seem all that competent. I understand that they put the best workers on the day shift, when there's a lot more personal interaction. Rather than nights, when everybody is already booked, and not checking in and out. No complaints about the politeness. I just think maybe this gal didn't know all the ins and outs of her inn.

Clerky took all my info. Got my player's card number. Informed me that there were no free rooms, and that the cost was $199 per night. WHOA! That's a bit steep! I know that a lot of hotels down there raise their prices for weekends, and when there are OU football games and such. But I didn't know of anything special this weekend. Still, we needed a room, and that's where we like to stay. So I told her that was fine. She typed in a bunch of stuff, and then said, "OH! We don't have any room available those nights."

SERIOUSLY?

I think maybe she was confused, or was looking at the calendar that I saw on their website for booking. Why would she take my info as if everything was fine, and THEN look up to see if rooms were available? I'm not saying she deliberately shut me out of reservations. Only that she was confused. She'd messed up twice already. Forgetting her log-in password, and then trying to type in all caps. At least that's what she said when it was taking a while.

Anyhoo... I thought that maybe if I called back the next day, in DAYTIME, and got a different clerk, they might find some rooms. And they might give me a rate less than $199 per night. But I was done with it. Their loss! Let them spite themselves by not taking my $199 for two nights, and the four extra hours per night that I'd have been roaming around inside their casino, losing extra money while Farmer H was in bed.

I booked two rooms at La Quinta, two miles up the road, for $82 per night. Not free. But I figure it will save my gambling bankroll for another time. The Pony should plan on a weekday visit next time, I think...

Even Steven Smites Mrs. HM For Her Self-Righteousness

You know I'm right, baby! I'm here to prove that there's a reason Mrs. HM does not pay her bills online. Uh huh. Try as you might to drag her kicking and screaming into the 21st century, Mrs. HM knows that technology can't be trusted!

Remember how I've complained every stinkin' month a couple of times that DISH won't send or process my monthly bill in a timely manner? How they SAY the bill is generated on the 10th of each month, yet I don't receive it until the 17th or later. AND how even though I mail my bill the very next day after I receive it, my account does not show the payment by the due date of the 25th.

Last month, when I saw that my check had not been credited by the 25th, I did a one-time transaction online, from my checking account. Of course then my check showed up as credited on SUNDAY the 27th, according to DISH. So I knew that at least my payment for February would already be in the can. In their coffers. No action necessary from me. No way it could be late, they already had it a month (less two days) before the new due date.

I got my DISH bill in the mail this month. On the 16th. I didn't bother to open it, since my payment was already in. Good thing, too, because President's Day, a postal holiday, was the Monday after my paper bill arrived. One LESS day to get a payment returned.

Anyhoo... being the cautious kind, and with a very nice credit rating, I figured I'd get online to make sure that extra payment was still showing my credit. WELL! I could not do that, because the DISH SYSTEM WAS DOWN! Uh huh! Who's right NOW? What if I'd waited to pay online, and THEN saw this? That's right. I wouldn't be able to make my payment, and I'd get a late charge! So there, all you modern technowizards! There's a valid reason Mrs. HM does not trust internet bill-paying.

You know what happened, right? Being a bit OCD about my bills, I tried again to access the DISH system on the 19th. You'll never believe what I saw! I owed DISH a payment! Granted, it was a payment for $5.01. But still a payment. Due by the 25th. If I hadn't obsessively checked, I would have had a past-due bill next month!

Do you know where that extra $5.01 charge came from? One of my programming packages has INCREASED IN PRICE since last month. It hasn't done that for several years. But the one month I'm certain I have my payment already in, that package has a price increase.

Of course I paid it with a one-time online payment from my checking account. Because there wasn't time to mail in a check with the monthly statement.

Building My Own Time Travel Machine Might Have Been Easier

Do I believe in time travel? No. Do I think I could build a time travel machine? No. A little kid in a Doritos commercial built one with a cardboard box and some hose from a vacuum cleaner, I think. But you know how kids are so advanced with technology.

Anyhoo... I've been on a quest for a lava lamp for The Pony's birthday. Yes. His birthday has passed. But as I write this on February 19th, we have not yet traveled to visit him. I have been trying to obtain The Pony's lava lamp since February 10th. Plenty of time, you see, since our visit was not scheduled until the weekend after The Pony's birthday. That gave me 22 days to get his lava lamp. PLENTY of time, right?

I found several lava lamps on Amazon. Picked out the color The Pony preferred. Looked at the shipping info. YES! The lava lamp would arrive between February 12-14. WAY plenty of time for me to get it, and take it to The Pony. I got an email from the seller later on February 10th, saying that my lava lamp had shipped. WHEE DOGGIES! The Pony's lava lamp was on the way!

I was a little concerned about the lava lamp arriving on February 13th, since Farmer H and I were having lunch with my best old ex-teaching buddy Mabel that day. I didn't want that package to come by FedEx, and get tossed out in the driveway for the dogs to eat. I checked the tracking number, and was surprised to see that the shipping info had not been updated. Huh. I'd have to take that chance. But it did look like the lava lamp was coming through the U.S. Postal Service. Not FedEx. I was relieved, and enjoyed my Mabel-lunch.

Thursday the 14th was Valentines Day. Farmer H and I were off to the casino with my sister the ex-mayor's wife and her husband the ex-mayor. Once we finally got rid of them made sure they could get in their back door, I reminded Farmer H that we needed to get our mail, because the lava lamp would be here.

NO LAVA LAMP!

I rushed to New Delly, to see if my package had been delivered. Like when my Cagney and Lacey DVDs were delivered but I didn't have the box key in EmBee. Well. THIS time, my package had NOT been delivered. In fact, it was delayed, and now scheduled to arrive BY 8:00 p.m. on Monday, February 25th!!!

That's too late! That is AFTER our trip to visit The Pony! I swear, I'm ready to wash my hands of this lava lamp. You can bet I will leave the lowest rating and a scathing review on that Amazon seller. No, I'm not giving Seller the benefit of the doubt. I'm not contacting Seller to see if the problem can be remediated. The facts are, my package was promised between February 12-14. No heads-up was given until AFTER the 14th. From the shipping details, it looks to me like Seller sat on my package (!) for A WHOLE WEEK before even taking it to the post office! That's dirty pool! Especially considering he'd put a note on his details Friday the 15th, saying if I hadn't received the lava lamp by February 17th, to contact him. SWEET GUMMI MARY! He hadn't even taken the package for shipping until the 17th.

No way was I getting into a back-and-forth about how Seller tried to solve my problem. Nor go through the rigamarole of trying to get a refund. The first lie was emailing me that the order had shipped, when all he had done was create a shipping label. Seller is not off the hook. Send me my dad-blasted lava lamp.

Here are the details from the USPS, as of February 19th, when I set this tale for auto-publish in the future.

Tracking History

February 19, 2019
In Transit to Next Facility
Your package is moving within the USPS network and is on track to be delivered by the expected delivery date. It is currently in transit to the next facility.

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February 18, 2019, 12:26 am
Arrived at USPS Regional Origin Facility
JERSEY CITY NJ NETWORK DISTRIBUTION CENTER 

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February 17, 2019, 11:11 pm
Accepted at USPS Origin Facility
BROOKLYN, NY 11235 

---

February 10, 2019, 2:25 pm
Shipping Label Created, USPS Awaiting Item
BROOKLYN, NY 11235 

---

February 10, 2019
Pre-Shipment Info Sent to USPS, USPS Awaiting Item

I'm pretty sure we are not going to receive that lava lamp before we leave on February 21st. I've had good luck in the past with Amazon and their sellers. I'll consider this $21 pretty cheap for a lesson learned. Only Prime for Mrs. Hillbilly Mom now.

With that $21, I could have built a time machine (or hired a little kid to do it for me), traveled back to the 70s, bought a lava lamp at the 1970s price, and STILL had change left over to get The Pony a Pet Rock or a Mood Ring. Which I would have given to him on our designated birthday visit.

That's The Way Mrs. HM Not-Rolls

Sweet Gummi Mary! Some days, it just doesn't pay to get out of bed after a full five hours of sleep! Nothing goes right. Not even when you're a good Boy Scout and give a bleeding man the next-to-last Puffs With Lotion in your jacket pocket!

You'll be reading the full story elsewhere, but let's just start it here with a teaser, and move on to the rest of Mrs. HM's Very Bad Day. Which didn't really kick into high gear until Farmer H was in the Mansion.

I cut my finger with a ceramic knife that he gave me!

But the unkindest cut of all was the fact that I had to use a 10-year-old bandaid to staunch the flow of my life fluid!

Do you know how hard it is to carry out your daily and nightly duties with such an awkward life-fluid-loss-inhibitor on your finger? I had to hold that finger out awkwardly while putting some Auction Sun Chips into a baggie to take down to my lair. Of course, halfway down the 13 steps, that baggie JUMPED off the tray, bumping itself down the remaining steps, to turn itself into crumbs on the tile.

An index finger has a surprising number of uses, which you may not appreciate on a day-to-day basis. The middle finger is a poor substitute for most of them. Like typing. Or pulling pants up and down. Perhaps excavating a bat from the cave. Picking up pizza slices. Getting a box of bandaids open.

As if a throbbing finger and crushed Auction Sun Chips and hard-to-hold pizza were not enough of a challenge... my original rolly chair decided to go all wonky and keep rolling away from my desk as I sat motionless, then act like a brake had been set when I tried to roll forward again!

Makes me wonder it that man I played Boy Scout for, with his bloody cart-injured finger, was Even Steven providing some foreshadowing.