Who's Checking The Checkers?

Sweet Gummi Mary! Sometimes, I swear that cashiers undergo no training whatsoever! Unless just enough so they don't "accidentally" steal money. But with everybody using plastic these days, that's an unlikely scenario.

I'm pretty sure nobody teaches them how to bag. But that's not an issue at Save A Lot. All they have to do is put your items in your cart, so you can bag them yourself. Which seems to require an Einstein intellect to cart those items in a reasonable manner.

You know how soda comes in a cardboard 12-pack? The square shape, not the long rectangle. I got two 12-packs of my new favorite, the Shasta Diet Cola. Of course I handled them by poking my fingers through the cardboard to open up the little slot on top. I set them out of my cart, onto the conveyor. I ASSUMED the checker set them down in my cart. But upon bellying up to the bagging counter, I saw what she had done.

She STACKED my 12-packs on their sides! One on top of the other! 

WHO DOES THAT???

I had to feel around to find those slots again, to set them upright, so I could handle them and put them in T-Hoe's rear. AND that gal had put my 18-pack of eggs in the child seat of the cart! That's fine for a dozen eggs. They fit. But the 18-pack gets wedged. The styrofoam carton has to squish in to move it away from the metal of the seat.

Seriously. If she had put my soda in the cart the right way, there would have been no need to jam those eggs in the child seat. But by stacking the soda, a heavy 12-pack could have slid off on the egg carton if she put it in the bottom of the cart with the other groceries.

How can people be so dense?

Maybe I should ask The Pony. It's his generation.

Is There Such A Thing As DogNip?

My fleabags went crazy on Saturday afternoon. They were perfectly normal when I left, but upon return, it was as if they were possessed by a shenaniganous entity!

Good thing I had nothing to carry in except my purse, which was looped over my right arm. I greeted my Sweet, Sweet Juno as she pranced around on the side porch, and started up the four steps, holding onto the rail with my left hand. I had seen Jack darting around the back yard, as he does every time I come home, chasing the squirrels that scatter as I come down the driveway. He always appears on the porch by the time I get inside and grab a treat.

WHOOPSIE! 

 

I almost face-planted from the third step! That dastardly Jack had gallumped up those steps, tromping on the back of my right heel! He's NEVER done that before! He's good at weaseling himself through small spaces, even with his expanding girth. Of course I hollered at him, but he grinned like I was bluffing.

Once inside the kitchen, I grabbed a small beanbag-size cellophane bag of chewy meaty kibble that Back-Creek Neighbor Bev had given Farmer H for our dogs. I've been treating them out of it for several days, and it's still half full. They only need five or six of these chewy kibble apiece. It's a big hit.

Jack is pretty good at waiting his turn. Juno always darts into her house when I go inside, and forces me to put her treats in her lair. Not an easy feat when her floor is strewn with cedar shavings, antlers, dried bones, and indistinguishable detritus. Sometimes I have to serve her on a paper plate. I don't want her eating that junk. With the kibble, I've been reaching in to deposit her pieces on a wooden ledge beside the door.

This time, Juno came out of her house. I suppose she thought Jack was getting more, although in fact, she was getting a larger portion, because she's a larger dog.

"Here, Juno! Go in! Go in your house!"

Juno stayed between me and Jack, watching me reach in to deposit her kibble.

THUNK! 

 

That's the sound of my right arm being jammed against the top edge of Juno's dog house door, as she barrelled inside to get at the kibble. She NEVER does that!

At least Gentleman Jack cheerfully waited his turn. Still smiling.

I asked Farmer H if he'd been serving them crack! He denied it. Said only the dry food.

There's not even a full moon. Maybe the sound of fireworks has them on edge.

Not Somewhere I'd Want To Hang Out

The fireworks stand at Country Mart does not seem to be doing a booming business. Heh, heh! Get it? I said "booming," and it's a fireworks stand! I crack myself up sometimes.

Of course, you wouldn't WANT that stand to be booming, because that would mean your inventory just went up in smoke. Heh, heh! Get it? Because fireworks give off smoke when they explode! Oh, my sides! I am so funny to myself.

 

Not a good picture out T-Hoe's window. Not a good fireworks stand, either. Big enough, but not considered big compared to the place we used to buy our fireworks when the boys were tweens. No fireworks for us this year. The Pony is coming out for steak-grilling, but no incendiary celebration.

It was 100 degrees when I took this picture! Imagine how hot it was under the medium-top! You know how heat gets trapped under a tent like that. There was no breeze, either. Just humidity. Which I suppose bode well for the fireworks not spontaneously combusting.

I haven't noticed many people there buying fireworks. Maybe they come at a different time than late afternoon. I don't know if you can see it in the picture, but there's a sign behind that truck that says:

NO DISCHARGE OF FIREWORKS WITHIN 300 FEET

That's 100 yards. I still think that would be too close! Good thing most people who'd buy fireworks would not waste their money by setting them off on a grocery store parking lot.

Hillmomba Has Been De-Triangulated

Remember the missing electric bill and tax receipts? They have been found! 

Farmer H is off the hook for the second electric bill. The one he brought in from the mail was indeed for the Mansion, I discovered after checking the account number. The bill for the BARn was missing. But the next day, when I stopped to get the mail out of EmBee, it was there in a separate envelope. That's only happened one other time since we moved out here and started getting two bills. Not counting the time we never got a bill at all, so I didn't pay it, and discovered them PAST DUE on the next bills. Like I've said, if I don't get a bill, I don't think to pay it.

Anyhoo... I was relieved to tie up that loose end, and wrote out the check right then to mail the next day. The tax receipts waited a while. Since Farmer H wasn't in a hurry to go get T-Hoe's license renewed, it waited until June 28th, the night before Farmer H planned to go to the license office. I commanded instructed asked him to remind me before he went to bed, to go down to the basement and look for those 2021 and 2020 tax receipts. Of course he did not. Lucky for me it popped into my noggin about 10:30 p.m. So down to my lair I went.

I pulled open the drawer where I'd told Farmer H to look. The top drawer, where he'd plucked the regular envelope that I'd put the tear-off receipts in, and the ONE large sheet mailed back by the Circuit Clerk. In that drawer, I saw two envelopes from the lake development where we pay a yearly usage fee for our lot. Envelopes hand-written on by me, labeling them 2021, and 2020. Under those two envelopes were the two tiny slide-in envelopes with the small receipt cards for our personal property and real estate taxes. One labeled 2021, and the other labeled 2020. Right there where I said they'd be.

I took those receipts upstairs, and put them on the bowl of bananas, with the inspection form and Missouri DOR notice card for T-Hoe. Farmer H never misses his morning banana!

Anyhoo... Farmer H got the license for T-Hoe for the next two years. Though he complained that I forgot to give him my insurance card for proof of insurance. Well. He never told me he needed that! It's been years since I went to renew licenses by myself. So I did not remember it was necessary. I didn't read the notice card, because I knew Farmer H was taking care of it.

Don't you worry about Farmer H! He said the gal looked it up online, and saw that we indeed have insurance on T-Hoe. Farmer H came home and put the stickers on T-Hoe's license plates. So he is legal beginning July 1.

Nothing is currently missing in Hillmomba.

Like Hillbilly Mom, Like Pony

The Pony was at the Mansion on Tuesday, to pick up the Acadia to drive while his Rogue is in the shop getting a new compressor for the air conditioning. To the tune of $900, we found out on Wednesday! Good thing The Pony has that casino jackpot to help him out!

Anyhoo... while here, The Pony pulled up his pants leg to show me a red area at the bottom of his calf.

"Oh, Mom. I almost pulled one of your tricks! I just about closed my leg in the car door."

"NO!"

"Yeah. How IS your leg, anyway?"

"It is healing! In fact, my nighttime bandaid has been dry for about a week. I'm leaving the bandaid off tonight when I go to bed. It has a scab, and the scab isn't sticking out now. I know it's healing, because it itches so much!"

 

"Don't scratch it!"

 

"I scratch all around it, but not on it."

"You are playing a dangerous game!"

Heh, heh. I am very careful not to scratch off that scab. I hope The Pony is very careful not to close his leg in the door of A-Cad.

Zirconium, We Hardly Knew Ye

Welp! That's done. As I feared, Back-Creek Neighbor Bev had her dog euthanized on Tuesday. Maybe she didn't have a choice, what with the bitten old lady going to the hospital for treatment of her hand. Maybe it's a requirement if a biter isn't up-to-date on the rabies shot. Still, it's a sad situation.

 

I call that dog Zirconium, but her real name was Diamond. She stayed with us for a week, and never bit anybody. Well. Except for Jack and Juno, and there was probably some provocation there. Here are 3 posts about dear departed Diamond. One even has a picture of her.

Zirconium In The Ruff 

Farmer H Discovers That A Zirconium Requires Protection 

The Mansions Fleabags Go Fer-Zirc 

Anyhoo... I'm sad that Diamond came to this end. I guess if I had a prolific biter, I'd make sure he had all his shots on schedule. We started out with all our pets having regular vet visits and vaccinations. Always with the baby ones, for the shots and worming. Then it got pretty time-consuming to drive them all 30 minutes to their appointments. Five cats and three dogs and two boys is a lot of pent-up energy to juggle. So gradually we'd let a checkup slide, and then a vaccination or two. By the time my little Jack arrived, he just got his puppy visit, and skipped the 'very special operation.'

So... I'm not judging Bev on her pet care. My pets are not angels. Jack nipped the neighbor down the road when Farmer H drove the Gator to return the guy's tractor part he found in the road. Jack was just fine until the guy turned to walk away, and then nipped him on the ankle! Heelers gonna heel! As I recall, no skin was broken. I don't remember if it's because of Jack's tiny dachshund mouth, or if the neighbor was wearing work boots, or if Jack just didn't bite that hard. And my Sweet, Sweet Juno herself took a chomp at young HOSS (Farmer H's Oldest Son's Son) one evening out on Shackytown Boulevard. Not sure what was going on there, since Juno is more likely to keep a distance and bark than run up and get involved.

Poor Diamond was just doing what a dog would do. Defending her new territory against intruders. Bev is an excitable kind, and doesn't like anyone on her property, and dogs pick up on that energy.

Farewell, Diamond/Zirconium. We hardly knew ye.

The Curious Case Of The Dog In The Daytime

I don't even know where to start with this story, and I WISH I didn't have a hunch how it's going to end.

Farmer H went back to work on Back-Creek Neighbor Bev's house on Monday. He said Bev in a frenzy. Seems her dog had bitten an old lady on the hand, and shredded the skin. It was the lady she bought the house from.

"Bev was nuts! She came up and told me she had to do something about her dog. She begged me to take her out and shoot her! I told her I couldn't do that. She kept insisting, because now that dog has bitten five people that I know of. Two of them are ME and Old Buddy! But still, I'm not going to shoot her dog."

"Didn't you say that dog had her shots?"

"Yeah. As far as I know."

"Well, then the person will be okay, and surely Bev has homeowner's insurance, so it should pay for the medical bills if that bitten lady sues her."

"You'd think. Old Buddy said Bev jumped all over HIM, telling him he should have tied the dog up! It's not Old Buddy's responsibility to take care of Bev's dog!"

Later in the evening, Nick called Farmer H at home, to see if he'd be working there on Tuesday.

"I told him yeah, until 2:00. They don't like to leave their house unattended, so one of them will have to be there when I leave. But he said they are taking the dog to the vet for a rabies test. The old lady she bit went to the hospital."

"I thought the only way to test a dog for rabies is to kill it, and mail in its head."

"That's what I thought."

"Surely she's not taking that dog to be euthanized! They live in the country! That dog isn't bothering anybody. They should tie her up when they're expecting somebody. Or they could put up a clothesline, and let her have a run in the yard. I wouldn't want a dog that has to be penned up or chained. A dog should be able to be a dog, unless you want to keep it in the house."

"They don't keep her in the house. They used to put her in the basement at their old place, if someone was coming."

"I'd just hate to see them put her down. She has nipped people coming into her yard, not escaped and latched on with a death grip trying to kill them."

"I told her, 'Bev, just take her to obedience school to break her of that biting.' But she still wanted me to shoot her dog! I thought the dog had its rabies shot, the way Bev carried on about feeding it scraps, and how she takes care of her. Now I'm not so sure."

The only optimistic information I could find is that if a dog has the rabies virus in its saliva when it bites you, then penning up that dog to watch it for 10 days can show if it has rabies or not, because they'll die in 10 days if rabies has progressed enough to be in their saliva. 

 

The bitee still has to have rabies shots, I think. Though dog rabies in the U.S. is very uncommon. A dog has to be bitten by a rabid animal to catch it, and if the dog has its shot, it won't. But seriously, it's not like the countryside is crawling with rabid animals.

I guess we'll find out the conclusion in a few days...