They're Like Blind Men Describing An Elephant

Wait a minute! I think I just called myself an elephant!

I had yet a different cashier at Country Mart on Friday. Not the old lady who put my age as 65, nor the young lass who put my age as 21, nor the fastidious man who put my age as 33. This was a middle-aged gal who was quite congenial. As she handed me the bag with The Pony's wine, she said, "This is the most important one!"

When I got back to T-Hoe, I checked the receipt.

 

THIS cashier put my age as 55. I won't complain. I guess she would be what is referred to as a realist.

Quite A Late-Night Coincidence

I was sitting up watching TV Friday night. Nothing was on! All these DISH channels, and nothing to watch. I settled on what may or may not have been a current episode of Spring Baking Championship. Sometimes the contestants are quite creative. Sometimes they have disasters. A challenge called for them to make whoopie pies. The catch was that they had to also make them relate to a spring critter like a caterpillar, bee, butterfly, or THIS!

 

Yeah. Just a coincidence that I randomly chose a show that would have a LADYBUG. 

I took that picture off the TV screen, so it's not the best view.

The Rich Get Richer

On Friday, The Pony gave me money to buy him a lottery (heh, heh, once again, I typed "lootery") ticket. Not just any lottery ticket. The new $50 ticket. He didn't specify where he wanted me to get it.

 

"I'm going to visit Sis. So I'll be at the School-Turn Casey's, and the Sis-Town Casey's. Also, I'm going to Country Mart on the way home."

 

"It doesn't matter. Wherever you feel like there's a winner when you look at it. Though with your recent track record, I might be crazy..."

 

"I'll get it when it speaks to me."

 

So off I went, mulling it over on my drive. The more I thought about it, the more I felt like the School-Turn Casey's was the place. In line, I looked at the ticket case. That $50 ticket was kind of falling from its place at the top left corner of the case. Like it was leaning forward, wanting to be bought. When I got back to T-Hoe, I looked at the ticket number. 015. The 15th is The Pony's birthday date. So I felt like it was meant to be.

By the time I got home, I was kind of worried about that ticket. Such a lot of money. I've been wrong before with my hunches. But this was THE PONY'S money. Oh, well. He can afford a loss. His bank account has grown fat, with only his car insurance and his phone bill to pay. The Pony came out to carry groceries for me. It was his day off.

"I'm scratching my fifty now. I'll finish putting away the groceries in a minute."

 

"I'll sit down here to see what you get."

 

The Pony grabbed a quarter, and started scratching at the kitchen counter. He scratches off all the bottom numbers first, instead of the set of numbers to match. He's looking for a WIN symbol, or multiples of a number. That means he'll be a winner.

 

"WINNER! I got the symbol for automatic win."

 

"I'm so relieved! We know that you at least got your $50 back."

 

After scratching all the numbers, The Pony picked up the ticket and brought it to me. So I knew it must be good.

 

"Look. It won $200!"

 

"Well. I guess I made the right choice!"

 

The Pony stashed his ticket away with some previous winners. He's saving for CasinoPalooza. Before we leave, I'll buy those tickets from him, and cash them in over time as I buy my scratchers. 

Yeah. That kind of spoiled my own tickets. Nothing spectacular. Though I DID win $20 on a $3 ticket. I'd take a picture of The Pony's winner, but I don't feel like getting up to deal with it. It's not nearly as much fun to brag about somebody else's winner...

Another Sign Of The Season

The Pony wore SHORTS to work on Thursday! It was 73 degrees when I drove home from town. That's sweatin' weather for The Pony. He didn't order any USPS shorts with his uniform allowance. Just pants and shirts. So he wore dark gray cargo shorts left over from high school. They needed a belt, since The Pony has grown more svelte now that he's working for a living.

"Oh, Mom. Listen to this. It's what I heard while I was driving on my route."

"That's the ICE CREAM MAN!"

"I know! I kept hearing it, and I looked in the mirror, and he was behind me."

"Are you allowed to buy ice cream while you're working?"

[There are rules about what employees can do in uniform. Like don't buy alcohol, or lottery tickets, or anything that might give people a reason to complain. Even if they've clocked out, and are on the way home, it is advised to take off or cover up identifying USPS uniform symbols. Such as The Pony turning his sweater inside-out, so the emblem is not seen.]

"If I'd had change in my pocket, and not so much mail, I would have stopped. I saw two old gray-haired people come out with a kid. I guess their grandkid. They bought him ice cream. They all might have got some. So the ice cream man was making money."

"Now that he's been out playing his tune, I bet more people are prepared for him. This time he probably took them by surprise."

"Yeah. I'll try to have money with me next time."

Guess What's In The Pony's Mailroom NOW

Okay. You don't have to actually guess. But it's not a dog toy that looks inappropriate and smells like chicken. It's not a shovel. It's not an oil-spill soaker squid. It's nothing from the Meat Church.

"Oh, Mom. We now have boxes of baby chicks and ducklings stacked against the wall. The boxes say, 'Live chicks, deliver immediately,' or something like that. I think the people who order them come to pick them up, because I don't think the rural carriers are allowed to transport live animals. Besides, they can't leave them by a mailbox."

"No. Something would eat them. Unless it's a house way down a road where the carrier goes anyway, to the house. Do they make noise?"

"Oh, YEAH! They'be been cheeping since they got here."

"That reminds me of when Genius was in kindergarten, and the teacher moved his seat to where he was by the baby chicks that hatched. Only it wasn't a treat for Genius. It really bothered him. He'd get home and say, 'All day long, CHEEP CHEEP CHEEP! I'm so tired of hearing those chicks!' Can you see inside? Can you go look at them?"

"One of the clerks was over there with the delivery driver, saying, 'Oh, look at their little speckled heads!' I guess they will be there until the people who ordered them come pick them up."

Never a dull moment at The Pony's workplace.

A New Estranged BFF

Farmer H has grown disillusioned with his buddy Mick the Mechanic. SilverRedO is once again being held hostage on Mick's lot. Oh, Farmer H could go and recalaim SilverRedO any time. But he wants that head gasket fixed.

SilverRedO has been there about a week and a half. In fact, Farmer H has borrowed a truck for hauling stuff to Pony House. What's the point in having a truck if you can't use it? At this stage in his life, Farmer H does not need to be borrowing trucks.

"Mick is about to make me mad! He was supposed to start working on SilverRedO on Friday. But when I asked about it yesterday, Mick said, 'I'm not sure I want one of my bays tied up with a long-term project.' So I think I'll just go get my truck and take it to someone else. Maybe the Chevy dealer. Or I know another guy who can do it."

"Well, the dealer might charge more. But I agree that you need to get your truck back."

"Yeah. I can haul Pony's furniture with it, then get it fixed."

I HOPE SilverRedO will start after sitting so long. I also understand that Mick the Mechanic is a businessman, and he needs to do what's best for his business. He could probably make more than the $1600 that SilverRedO would bring him, by cycling more jobs through his shop during the time it would take to fix that head gasket. I don't think Farmer H will hold it against Mick for too long. He's just all hyped-up about going without his truck for a couple weeks, so soon after getting it back after the tow truck damage during the snow.

Mick has always put Farmer H's jobs ahead of others when he needed something done, like a tire repair or brake problem. I'm pretty sure Farmer H will get over it, and Mick will once again be his BFF.

The Nuts Are Connected To The A$$hole

I went in Orb K on Monday for scratchers. Two registers were open, each with a customer. The customer on the left left. So I stepped up to that register. It's next to the scratcher display. The clerk was tearing off my tickets when I felt a breath on my right cheek.

"Here's my nuts."

WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN???

An arm appeared in my peripheral vision, the reached past my shoulder to deposit a package of peanuts on the counter, next to two small dessert-like containers setting to the side, which I had not noticed previously.

Maybe I'm crazy, but I am of the opinion that a customer being served at the moment takes precedence over a "forgetter." Has the right-of-way, so to speak. The clerk would not have asked if she could help me if she was waiting on a Forgetter to run get something in the middle of a transaction. The register was clear. My tickets were rung up.

This wasn't even the customer who just left! So there had been at least one other transaction since the Forgetter, and before mine.

It didn't help that the Forgetter was a short man, wearing a dress shirt, who reminded me of a former boss.

A$$HOLE!