The Meat Master Assists

I spent Saturday getting food ready for our Easter feast on Sunday. It's a thankless job, but makes the Mansion smell delicious, and at least there's food for a few days with little effort. 

Farmer H contributed by slicing the ham. Granted, it's a spiral ham, already cut, except for freeing the slices from the bone. It's already fully cooked, so I just have to warm up some slices for the meal, not cook the entire ham.

Anyhoo... I appreciate Farmer H doing that task, because I'd spent the morning on the roasted vegetables with bacon, and had the evening for deviling the eggs and washing the rest of the dishes, and then Easter morning to construct the 7-layer salad. The other items don't take much time, and The Pony will help.

Of course slicing the ham was in Farmer H's wheelhouse. He's the meat master, you know! I set out everything he would need. A giant tray for the ham, the container to put the slices of ham in, another to put smaller pieces in for The Pony, who prefers to make mini sandwiches on Sister Schubert's Rolls. I set out the big knife. Farmer H did not want for tools needed to do his task. Farmer H also put the bone in the large baggie I'd set out. And chunks of ham in another to go in future beans. Yes, the chunks were much larger than what I would have made them. But it beats doing it myself.

I guess I should find a way to tie meat into other tasks I would like Farmer H to complete!

Mrs. HM Is Not The DumbRumpus Here

Good Friday found Mrs. HM in 10Box, buying her Easter fixin's. That's because she rarely consults a calendar, and as recently as Monday thought she still had another week before Easter dinner.

Anyhoo... I found everything on my list except Peppercorn Ranch Dressing. It's The Pony's favorite, but I haven't seen it lately in 10Box nor Country Mart. The new trend seems to be Cucumber Ranch. I didn't get the ham I wanted, but I got a spiral-sliced smoked ham that will do. It's pretty big, but I already have the beans to use with leftovers. At least I didn't have to get one of those pressed-ham loaves, or the $57 (plus 10% at the checkout) ham that was looking for a brief home.

I went to the first register, which had the same clerk I had last time, when my head was in a fog, and I couldn't seem to get my card to work. Heh, heh! Because I was putting it in BACKWARDS, the end without the chip. 

Anyhoo... I had a whole lotta stuff. I told that Checker Gal, 

"I hope I can work my card this week!"

She smiled politely. I'm pretty sure she remembered my difficulties last time. She got everything scanned and I meticulously turned my card the right way and slid it into the card reader. I put in my PIN when prompted. Hit the green ENTER button. Then a weird screen came up! As I was trying to decipher it, that screen switched to say ENTER THE AMOUNT OF CASH BACK. 

Hold on there! I didn't want any cash back! They stopped giving that option back when it was still Country Mart, before the 10Box remodel. Something about having a cash machine on premises, so no cash back feature at the register. Not a big deal to Mrs. HM, who only got cash back if she needed small bills for the lottery machines. They don't give change, you know. Feed them a twenty, and you have to buy that much in tickets. So I sometimes got $5 or $10 back, then repaid the house money with my allowance money when Farmer H was available to change a twenty for me.

Anyhoo... I didn't want cash back, and that screen stayed on.

"Sorry. I don't know what's going on. I don't want cash back, but that's what it's trying to give me."

I could tell by the look on Checker Gal's face that she thought I had messed up again. But I was innocent this time! I told her so. If she'd been one of those Indian deities with a plethora of arms, I'm pretty sure each one would have been exercising the crazy temple twirly finger. But to my face, Checker Gal said, 

"Let's start over." 

She leaned closer, turned that contraption where she could also see the screen, and watched me like a starving hawk surveilling a field mouse.

I put in my card. Did the PIN. And that screen came up again asking about cash back.

"SEE? I don't want cash back. I didn't hit anything to GET cash back. I was looking for the screen where it wants you do say OKAY to the total. But this came up! And there's nothing to hit, because I don't want cash back!"

Checker Gal seemed a bit surprised to see that screen. But she just said, "Really?" to my declaration that I'd never seen it there before. I don't know if that's a new feature or what. Maybe Checker Gal has been seeing it all week. Or maybe this is the first time it ever came up.

Anyhoo.... she punched in $0.00, and that card reader went to the approval screen I had been looking for. I guess I'll know what to do next time if I get that screen. At least nobody was behind me. The aisles were full, but not the checkouts.

I am NOT taking the blame on this one!

She's Quite A Traffic-Stopper

I lost my dang internet (bet you thought I was going to say MIND, didn't you) on Thursday at 12:30. I sent a text to Farmer H, who said he was headed home within an hour to put a belt on the lawnmower. Which lawnmower, I'm not sure. I think it was the red one on a trailer parked over at the BARn. Not the yellow one or green one parked under the carport where the Gator should be, except that it has been broken for several months now and is somewhere near the BARn.

Anyhoo... after resetting my router and satellite in the basement, Farmer H went back outside. I went to town. I'd just finished gassing T-Hoe when Farmer H sent a text that he was heading to town, because he had the wrong belt for that lawnmower. He must have taken his sweet time leaving, because I passed him on the other side of Mailbox Hill 30 minutes later.

I was only about 100 yards up the gravel road when I saw a familiar site. SCARLETT was beside the road, having just come up out of the little waterfall area of the creek. She knew the sound of T-Hoe, and came gamboling across the road in front of me, running alongside. Then she cut back across to my right side where I couldn't see her. I guess I wasn't going fast enough for her!

Then we rounded a little curve by the pole that the Farmer-H-Blacktopped-Hill-Badmouthing Wife of the Bad-Hay-Baling Lawyer's son had knocked down on his birthday, taking out power to our entire enclave. Coming towards us was a small black sports car. I'm not sure who drives it, but it belongs out here.

That dang Scarlett darted back across in front of me, right into the path of that car! I hit the brakes. He hit the brakes. All the while, Scarlett pranced and darted, looking at me over her shoulder. When she got back on my side, that sports car proceeded, as did I.

No good is going to come of this! Farmer H must find a way to stop Scarlett from chasing him all the way to the blacktop road. 

AND when we got back to the garage, Scarlett was smelling like perfume again! So who knows where else she'd been. Maybe she had followed Farmer H this morning, too, and somebody stopped to pet her. There wouldn't have been time from when I'd just passed Farmer H. Or maybe there was. A white car came along right after him, I think.

Anyhoo... Scarlett does not know enough about traffic to be running along the road down there. Jack, the good boy, was at home with Copper Jack.

Whose Job Is It, Anyway?

As long as there are clerks in convenience stores, Mrs. HM will never run out of things to complain write about!

Wednesday, I went in the Liquor Store for scratchers. I had a $77 winner in my hand. As usual, I stepped up to the counter. No other customers in view. The clerk was the little guy who always wears his hoody up. He's nice enough, though a bit disinterested in the whole "work" concept. I still slip a dollar into his tip jar when it's out, because he is polite enough.

This time, as I stepped to the counter, he stepped sideways behind the register. Off to my right. I thought he was on the phone. I could hear talking. Thought he was mumbling a response. I couldn't see if he was holding a phone under his hood. 

I perused the lottery tickets, whose display now sits on the floor, due to a wall of see-through little cubes that hold assorted vapes. Kind of like a giant shadow box. I had my winner laying on the counter. I knew the new tickets I wanted. If only that clerk would get off the phone! I tried to be polite. Gave him a glance. He turned away. I stood facing the counter. Looked at stuff sitting there. No tip jar out this time.

A couple of other customers came in, clanging the cow bell attached to the door as I had when I entered. They wandered around the liquor area. I kept waiting. I'm never in a hurry. I just wondered when the clerk would be done with his call, which I assumed to be about something he needed for the store. He wasn't saying much.

Then the clerk said, "Can I get you something?"

What in the NOT-HEAVEN! He wasn't on the phone at all! He'd just been standing there, not saying anything. I guess what I heard was the person waiting on the drive-thru customers behind the shelf that divides that window from the counter.

Sweet Gummi Mary! That could have gone on all day, if those other customers hadn't come in!

"Yes. I want to cash in this $77 winner."

"Do you just want cash back?"

"No. I'm going to get some tickets."

I said the numbers of my tickets, giving him time to rip them off the roll before mentioning the next one. Because of getting two of the $3 tickets, I had a dollar coming back with my change.

NO DOLLAR FOR YOU!

Am I wrong to think it's the "job" of the clerk to greet a customer by asking how he can help them? At least saying, "What can I getcha?" Maybe just a grunt to acknowledge a customer's presence! Why else would a customer stand at the counter holding a scratcher for five minutes? I was actually to the point of walking out without getting anything, it was taking so long.

I was a bit annoyed. He even gave me the WRONG ticket! One that was next to the one I had asked for. I usually don't complain about such a mistake, because you never know if it might be The Universe's way of giving me an unintended winner.

The Universe and the clerk must have had a good laugh over it being a loser.

Why Mrs. HM Cheats

Here's another example of why Mrs. HM cheats. Parks T-Hoe farther to the right side of a parking space rather than in the center. Especially if there's a nice roomy striped section between her car and the space to her right, big enough to park a whole car.

This was at 10Box on Sunday. I was just running in for my lottery tickets out of the machine. I'm in a handicap space with my placard dangling from the mirror. You can see how I parked with plenty of space on the left side of my parking slot. No car was there at the time I parked, but from experience, I know they don't always stay within the lines.

This little van/SUV hybrid is within its lines. Not really doing anything wrong that should irritate Mrs. HM. But if I had parked in the dead center of my space, or as close to the line as that hybrid, I never would have gotten my door open all the way. I'd have needed to wait until that hybrid left, so I could climb into T-Hoe and get my knees bent far enough to get my legs into the car. Looks like that hybrid might have been parking close to the line before.  I think that's a big scratch on the side.

Anyhoo... I don't care if people think I'm an idiot for parking like this. At least I could get right into T-Hoe and leave when I came out of the store, and I wasn't impeding anybody on my right side.

She Couldn't Buy A Clue, Or Even Accept The One Handed To Her

Welp! Monday I saw a rare sight. Rarer than a unicorn, though not as aesthetically pleasing. It was a young gal who could not use technology!

I was in the School-Turn Casey's, waiting to buy scratchers. Young Gal looked about 14 years old. She had a canned beverage on the counter, with the flip top open. I didn't recognize the can. Not a soda. Maybe some kind of iced tea or energy drink. Young Gal was trying to pay with a card.

She put it in the card reader, but it didn't work. Three times. The clerk asked if she had the TAP feature. She didn't know what he was talking about. He took the card, looked it over, then touched it to the reader. 

"There. You have it. Now try."

Young Gal messed around with the keypad. Still didn't work.

"Maybe another code?" The clerk was very patient with her, trying to help. 

Young Gal just looked at him. Did something with her phone. I thought maybe she had an app that could help her. Then she went back to trying to shove the card into the card reader again.

Sweet Gummi Mary! I was not in a hurry, but I was tired of standing there watching this exercise in futility. Doing the same wrong thing over and over was not going to solve her problem. I swear, if I'd had my wad of one-dollar bills in my pocket, I would have paid for her. It cost less than two dollars. But I only had twenties, and was not going to break one to pay her bill. My generosity does have its limits.

Finally an Older Gal came charging through the door. She was probably the big sister, judging from her age. She grabbed the card, jammed it into the card reader, punched a couple keys, and the transaction was done. I guess Young Gal had sent her a text when fiddling with her phone.

"SEE? What was so hard about that?"

Older Gal turned on her heel and left, while Young Gal picked up her drink and thanked the clerk.

What ever happened to using CASH???

A Leftover Farmer H Will Eat

Last week I made chicken pot pie. It used up some boneless skinless chicken breasts in FRIG II's freezer. Okay, they were a couple months past the USE BY date. But still good. They had been frozen the whole time! I boiled them because it was the easiest way to cook them before dicing to put in the chicken pot pie. It's pretty simple to make, using store-bought pie crust for the top.

I coated my very old 9 x 13 glass baking dish with butter. Margarine, actually. I'm not going waste that (worth its weight in) Kerrygold greasing a pan. Then I mixed the innards in a couple of large plastic bowls, so I had room for stirring.

1 bag frozen hash brown cubes (thawed)

2 bags frozen peas/carrots (thawed)

1 can cream of chicken soup

16 oz sour cream

1 large onion (diced)

2 tablespoons minced garlic

a couple shakes of garlic salt

ground black pepper

I baked it for however long the store-bought crust said, after rolling the room-temperature crust over the top of the dish. I think it was 450 or 425, for maybe 30 to 40 minutes. Can't remember, I just followed the instructions on the crust package. I DO know that I baked it for about 5 minutes, then covered it with foil, which I removed for the last 10 minutes. The extra crust I trimmed off was used in pieces on top of the crust. I made sure to poke many holes to allow for the contents to let off steam and bubble up.

Gotta toot my own horn and say that this chicken pot pie was DELICIOUS!

We had four nights worth of supper from it. Farmer H was not complaining.

When re-warming, I took off the crust, and put in on foil in the oven to try and regain the crispiness. It only works on the edges. But still, better than microwaving with the innards. It might look dry here, but was just right. Not runny, but still moist.

Mmm... I want to make another one already. More truthfully, I want to EAT another one already.