The Plot Definitely Thickens

When I left for town on Saturday afternoon at 3:45, the dogs did not come to greet me. I tossed their tiny treat on the side porch anyway. As I proceeded from the driveway onto the gravel road, I saw my dogs! They were standing in the BARn field, perhaps 1/3 of the way off the road, looking into that Dog Track Horse Jump field! Not barking. Just standing. Scarlett, Jack, and Copper Jack. 

There was a man in the Dog Track Horse Jump field, messing with the coils of wire on the fence. As I proceeded down the gravel road, I saw a jump in the OTHER field! Well. That threw me for a loop. I had assumed it would be a parking area. 

But wait! When I came home an hour later, I saw a truck coming down Farmer H and Buddy's Badly Blacktopped (and subsequently dug up) Hill. I waited for it to come down, and pass by me on the other hill where the traveling meth lab had been confiscated by the sheriff's department. That truck, flatbed trailer attached, went by me without even a courtesy wave! Must have been that guy messing with the Dog Track Horse Field fence. A stranger out here.

Upon passing the Barn Neighbor's house, I saw that there had been considerable activity in the field next to the house. There were mulitple horse jumps set up! The kind with white poles that had stripes, some used as rails, some in an X shape. I bet there were at least five jumps of that kind! And in the other field with the Port-A-Potty, I saw a CAMPER! The kind you pull behind a truck. About the size a hunter might use for deer camp. 

What in the NOT-HEAVEN??? There is no water or electric hook-up in that field. The oddest thing is that I saw ZERO horses or horse trailers!

I mentioned this to Farmer H when he got home. He said he thought the camper might be used for registration. WHAT? How many people would actually be coming to this "event?" Farmer H said he was surprised that there is no room to park trucks and horse trailers. Yeah. Unless they can line them around the outer edge of each field.

This venture grows curiouser and curiouser. I hope nobody brings dogs! I hope my dogs stay in the BARn field. Scarlett is just pretty enough that somebody might want to take her. No collar. We lost two cats over two different Labor Day weekends. I'm hoping Scarlett is skittish enough now that she won't approach that crew. She did her barking on Thursday at the UPS man, and then retreated to the porch, where she wouldn't even go get the treat he tossed for her.

I can't wait for Sunday and Monday, to see if there are actual horses going over those jumps... 

Mrs. HM's Good Deed Is Punished Once Again

Do not doubt the idioms, people! Mrs. HM is living proof that there is underlying truth in sayings that you might take for granted. For example, "No good deed goes unpunished."

Friday evening, before Farmer H deigned to return home after his Friday afternoon bull session, I looked on the DISH guide to see if there were any movies Farmer H might enjoy. I found three: Stripes, Ghostbusters, and Rudy. Yes, he's seen them all before. As with every weekend night, I still look for movies that might interest Farmer H.

After he took a dip in POOLIO, and took a shower, and walked through the living room, I shared my finds. Telling him the titles of all three movies, and that they all started at 7:00. Farmer H replied that Stripes was the one he would watch. So I told him the DISH channel to find it.

"It's up around 242, where you watch your Yellowstone series. I think it's on 239."

Five minutes later, Farmer H was complaining from his recliner in the living room, where he was waiting to eat his supper of fried chicken and two pieces of garlic cheese bread that I was preparing, that he could not find his movie.

"It's not on. I went from 259 to 230, and it's not there."

"At 7:00? Yes, it is."

"I'm telling you, I looked and it's not on!"

"What are you doing at 259? I told you it was on 239."

"I'm watching a show there. You don't have to make a big deal!"

"I'm not. I found movies for you, and told you the channel."

"It's not there!"

"Look on 239, like I said. At 7:00."

"Oh. It's there now."

"Just like I told you."

"You always have to make such a big deal about it!"

"Excuse me for trying to find a movie for you. I won't do it again."

"There you go! Always making a big deal!"

"No. I try to do something for you, and you can't hear, and rather than saying you can't hear, you pretend, and then blame me when something is wrong."

For sure. No good deed goes unpunished.

I Am Intrigued By This New Venture

As I mentioned yesterday, there's been a new development in the Dog Track supposedly being built by our across-the-road Neighbors.

____________________________________________

When I came home, I saw a new addition to the Dog Track field. It was a Port-A-Potty! Well, crap! That means they are serious about this venture. Port-A-Potties ain't free! I think you pay by the month. I asked Farmer H about it.

"So I guess Neighbors are really going ahead with that Dog Track. They've got a Port-A-Potty there now!"

"Oh? I didn't see one when I came in. But it ain't Neighbors! It's Barn Neighbor! Next to them! And it ain't a Dog Track! It's for HORSES!"

_____________________________________________

So when I left for town the next day, I stopped for pictures. Just out of our driveway, I snapped a photo of the field.

WAY down at the end, you can see the "new" Port-A-Potty.

From this side, they DO look more like horse jumps than dog jumps. But still, they are not very high. In the background are more, I suppose. Though one looks like a really long dog house. And there's the white Bobcat they've been using to move things around.

There's the Port-A-Potty at the corner of the field.

I wonder how people will feel about taking a potty so close to the road? What if somebody is reckless, and veers off and runs into it? Then there's the huge cloud of dust that blooms up when any vehicle drives down the gravel road.

That's the Barn Neighbor's other field, then the house, where a new porch was recently added. We like this neighbor. They had two boys the same ages as Genius and The Pony, who were in a bowling league with them. The wife died several years ago. They used to have a couple of horses and a pony, but none now. I suppose anybody who brings a horse out for jumping will park in that other field.

Seems like a lot of trouble to go to, just for recreation. And I can't see it being a profitable business. We'll see what develops.

The MisInformer Is 1 For 2

Farmer H was sitting on the deck of POOLIO as I left for town on Tuesday. I hollered to ask if the POLE MEN were still blocking the road. Being Farmer H, he hollered back three times: "WHAT?" Then he came up the steps to hear my question.

"No. Well. They're still putting in a pole. But they're in somebody's cow field. Their truck is off the road."

I took a chance, and indeed, there were no POLE MEN blocking the road. Nor were they in a cow field. I suppose Farmer H had come through an hour or so earlier. At least his information was correct about no road blockages.

When I came home, I saw a new addition to the Dog Track field. It was a Port-A-Potty! Well, crap! That means they are serious about this venture. Port-A-Potties ain't free! I think you pay by the month. I asked Farmer H about it.

"So I guess Neighbors are really going ahead with that Dog Track. They've got a Port-A-Potty there now!"

"Oh? I didn't see one when I came in. But it ain't Neighbors! It's Barn Neighbor! Next to them! And it ain't a Dog Track! It's for HORSES!"

"WHAT? You told me all along that it was Neighbors' Dog Track!"

"That's what I thought. But it's Barn Neighbor's brother doing it, for horses!"

"That would explain why those things look like horse jumps. But they're awfully small. Must be for little horses!"

"I don't know. But it's something for horses."

"That will still mess with the dogs. I'm not going to tie them up. You know they'll be over there barking. At least from the BARn field, if they don't go all the way over."

"We could put 'em in the old chicken pen."

"I'm pretty sure Jack will dig his way under the fence. It wouldn't take much. He's a digger, and he's low to the ground. Won't need a big hole."

"It could hold them for a while. We'll see what happens."

Huh. I'm not sure what's going on here. Both neighbors have gotten rid of their horses. Years ago. Not sure what's in it for this guy's brother to put tiny horse jumps in the field, and hire a Port-A-Potty. 

Mrs. HM Is Stymied Once Again

Well, Not-Heaven's bells! All I want is an uneventful trip to town once a day. It's a 10-minute drive. Five miles. Is that too much to ask? Apparently, The Universe thinks it IS.

Just when those "communication cable" guys finally finished blocking our gravel road, I thought things were back to normal. Sure, it's now bus-waiting time for the middle-of-the-road parkers down by Mailbox Row. But with clever timing, I can avoid the 20-30 minutes they're there. Which I've been doing, leaving a bit earlier than usual.

Monday, as I cruised toward the low-water bridge, I saw a glint of white at the top of the hill past it. Huh. Must be a car coming. The road gets narrower at the top of that hill, so I dallied a bit, waiting for that car to come down first. Nope. It wasn't moving. That was unusual. So I went on.

At the top of the next little rise was a white utility truck. Parked on the wrong side of the road, facing me. Orange cones were lined along the side of it. Over where the center line would be, if a center line was painted on our county blacktop road. This left a little strip of pavement to drive by. Except I could see NOTHING as far as oncoming traffic! Two guys in bright yellow-green vests were walking along, adjusting the cones. Neither of them appeared inclined to direct traffic!

I had no room to turn around, unless I backed up T-Hoe (no backup camera, beeper not working) and tried to get into a driveway. So all I could do was proceed, slowly, hoping nothing was coming the other way about the smash into me head-on. I got past. 

I've been worried about this scenario for about a week. I'd seen THREE giant poles lying alongside the road, on the other side of the ditch, along people's fences. The fear being that either the telephone or electric poles were going to be replaced. Of course that would happen during regular working hours. The time I make a trip to town.

NOW IT WAS HAPPENING!

I went on to town. Toyed with the idea of taking a different route home. Then I thought maybe those guys had been picking up the orange cones. Maybe they were done for the day. It was 2:45 when I started to town. I don't know what kind of shift they work. It was now about 3:30. So I returned the regular way.

Bad idea. Those guys had just moved their truck (and trailer with a strange contraption on it) a couple hundred feet up the road towards town. But now it was turned around, at least on the right side of the road, but still taking up all but a strip of pavement, still with cones, and now with those big brace thingies that go out for lifting heavy objects.

At least this was on a straight stretch of level road, and I could see that nothing was coming as I inched T-Hoe along as if his tires were on a tightrope.

Today (Tuesday), I'm taking the alternate route. Hoping there's not also a crew working on that road.

Like Helping An Old Lady Across The Street When She Doesn't Want To Go

The more feeble I become, the more I've noticed that people try to help me. Gone are the days of young men darting into a Casey's door and pulling it shut behind them, lest I catch the handle before it completely closed. Well. I HOPE those days are gone. I wouldn't swear to it these days.

People see me hobbling along, and will wait a minute after they enter, holding the door open. Or if it's an outward door, they get to it and stand holding it, and enter after me. Of course I thank them! It's a nice gesture. 

Sometimes, I'd like them to just go about their business. I feel obligated to "speed up," such as it is, so they don't have to wait for me to get there. If I could go faster, I would already be walking faster!

Anyhoo... the good Samaritans holding doors open and waiting on me are not really a problem. I feel good seeing their kindness, and they feel like they've done a good deed. Karma points for them!

The problem is when they want to help me on the way out, when they're behind me. Especially at the Gas Station Chicken Store. There's a little rough blacktop ramp at the door. Better than a step, but it would be hard for anybody to get a scooter or wheelchair up that ramp. Not that there's room inside for either, with the narrow aisles. Walking up that little ramp is okay for me. Coming out is more precarious.

I have my just-bought scratchers in my left hand, and push open the glass door with my right, holding onto the metal bar across it as I inch down that rough blacktop ramp. It's the height of 1.5 normal steps, and only the width of the doorway. The sides slope down steeper than the front part.

Fairly often, a person exiting just behind me will PUSH that door wide open, thinking they are HELPING me. But no! It wrenches the door handle away from me, upsetting my balance.

I consider myself quite lucky that kindness hasn't killed me yet.

To Catch Some Thieves: Inside Job

When I worked at the insurance salvage store, we all took a turn on the register. We had other jobs, like the floor manager, and the pricing department. But a schedule was made by Vera the bookkeeper, and we all spent a few hours ringing up customers. The only employees immune to this duty were the salesmen in the basement, where the lumber and carpet and wallpaper were sold. Not the lumber itself, which was out on the large parking lot. But that belonged to the sales guys downstairs. They got a commission for each sale, and would give us a paper ticket to stab on a spike.

Anyhoo... partway through the year I worked there, money was missing. I don't recall how much. But it was enough of a discrepancy that the owner brought in the police! The owner was hardly ever at the store, having many locations. But he came in for this. He was a nice enough fellow, but quite intimidating. He looked like Yul Brynner. Grew up on a farm with a lot of brothers. Said as a kid, he was thrilled when his mom served SPAM for dinner, because it was a real treat after eating the beef and pork and chicken raised on the farm.

Anyhoo... Mr. Owner first talked to everybody individually, in his office in the basement. All I could tell him was that I did not take the money, and I had no idea who might have taken it. Obviously, the department heads were unlikely culprits, because they had a good salaried job for years. The hourly workers were a motley crew. There was me, a teacher taking a year off to get my master's degree. A young single mother. A grandmotherly old lady. The 17-year-old high school son of one of the department heads.

THEN, the detective came in and set up the polygraph equipment! That was my first and only time taking a polygraph. It was interesting, and just a little scary. I was worried it might be wrong! I recall the stretchy strap thingy wrapped around my chest, and a thing on my finger. I don't remember the rest, but if I saw it on TV, I'd probably recall.

Anyhoo... I passed my polygraph. Turns out the thief was the 17-year-old kid, who would take money out of the register a little at a time. A twenty here, a twenty there. We all worked the same register, nobody getting a fresh drawer of counted money. Filling in for breaks. Taking over shifts back-to-back. The kid's mom was pretty upset with him. Nothing really happened, other than he couldn't work there any more.

*********************************************************

Another inside job was discovered at our DENTIST's office! It was 30 miles from Hillmomba, in another town. Our neighbor worked there as a dental hygienist, so we would get our teeth cleaned, and see the dentist if we had problems. Farmer H's insurance provided for two teeth-cleanings a year. He always stopped on his way home from work. I would schedule mine for days off from school.

Imagine our shock when we learned that an audit had uncovered a THIEF! An embezzler! It turned out to be the receptionist! A lady we were on a first-name basis with, seeing her in stores, having attended parties at our neighbor's house with her. And it was some of OUR payments that had been stolen! From when Farmer H paid in cash. And a couple of our checks that she had cashed. Of course she lost her job. I think she had to pay back the money, but didn't get any jail time.

Just goes to show, you never really know ANYONE when it comes to money...