Mysteries A-Field

Have I mentioned that I prefer to be informed when Farmer H is expecting random associates to be showing up at the Mansion? He will be heading to the doghouse if he doesn't shape up!

Last week, I left for town and thought I saw SilverRedO and a pewter colored truck parked in front of the BARn. They were backed down in there, SilverRedO in front of the big door, and the pewter truck on the Mansion side of SilverRedO, next to some trees and junk. I asked Farmer H about what he was doing when I got home.

"I wasn't doin' nothin'. I just got home about 10 minutes ago."

"What? Then why were there two trucks parked in front of our BARn, facing out?"

"I don't know. One Buddy has been wanting to come out and use my burn pile to burn off some junking stuff. But I told him no, because it had been too dry. He didn't SAY he was coming out. But he might have, since it rained last night. He don't have a red truck, though."

"That's why I thought it was you! And the other truck was the color of your old Ford. Kind of a silver/copper mix."

"I'll have to ask One Buddy about it."

"You might want to check and see if anything is missing! They looked suspicious, how they were parked. Like they could have been loading something out of the BARn."

I don't know if Farmer H ever checked for missing treasures, or if he talked to One Buddy. But on Monday, I saw that pewter truck again on my way to town. This time, it was parked beside Farmer H's burn pile. Facing up towards the gravel road, with the driver's door open. The door was RED!

Huh. I'm sure I saw two whole trucks there before. But this was unusual, to have a red door on a pewter truck. It was about 1:00 then, on my way to our financial advisor appointment. Afterwards, we dropped off T-Hoe at Mick the Mechanic's shop, and Farmer H drove me home in SilverRedO. 

The pewter truck with the red door open was still sitting there when we drove by at 4:00.

"See? That's the truck I saw before, but with a red one next to it."

"That's One Buddy. I guess he's been burnin' stuff. He didn't tell me he was comin', though."

"He's been there for THREE HOURS! With his driver's door open! That's not normal."

"I'll go over and talk to him. He's been sleeping in his truck down at the lockers. Just goes out and goes to sleep. I don't know what's going on."

Sweet Gummi Mary! My mind switched from thieving to drug overdoses! Not that Farmer H has buddies who do such things. But I sure don't want either happening on our property.

Farmer H came back and said One Buddy had been over there working on a broken lawn mower. This might sound suspicious to normal people, but I just assumed that Farmer H had promised One Buddy the lawnmower if he could get it fixed. Or maybe was going to pay him to fix it.

You never know what might turn up in your field out here. At least One Buddy didn't stink like a dead armadillo or a skunk.

Screaming Mini

On Saturday when the overly-friendly (or just plain normal) guy annoyed me at the lottery machine, I had no inkling that he was not to be my only source of annoyance.

I moved on to the bananas. While I was picking out eight green-enough ones all on one bunch, a man and little girl wheeled past me. I noticed, because that little girl was loud. The kind of loud that makes it hard to keep a neutral look on your face. She was probably 3-4 years old. I assume the guy was her dad. I'm guessing late 20s for him.

Mini was whiny. She wanted things. Not necessarily items from the shelves. She wanted to walk around, independent of Daddy and the cart. He wanted her holding onto the side of the cart. I'm pretty sure he didn't plop her in the child seat because she wouldn't have it. Did I mention she was loud? And whiny.

As always happens when someone annoys me in a store, they were on the same path as I was. Up and down every aisle I needed. She'd range away, and he'd tell her to come back. He was calm and patient. And totally ineffective. I got weekend-dad vibes. It WAS the third weekend of the month. I know a thing or two about parental visitation. I don't think a full-time dad would have put up with Mini's shenanigans so calmly. And no mom is going to send Dad and an elderly toddler off to the store on a Saturday.

Mini probably was trying her dad, testing her limits. I'm not sure she ever REACHED a limit. I would have knelt down (on younger knees) and looked that little girl in the eye. "You need to do what I say, and stop screaming, or we will leave. Right now." I did it before with Genius. And left the store, cart in the middle of the aisle. It only took ONE TIME.

Anyhoo... I was really glad to get out of there and give my ears a rest. I'm pretty sure that Dad was exhausted by the time the weekend was over.

They're BOTH Stinkers

We charge Pepper's Halo 5 Collar every afternoon. It's usually between 4:00 and 5:00, depending on who gets home first. Pepper is good about coming to be de-collared and re-collared. That's because he gets a treat after both. 

We set the collar on an upside-down box on the chair by the kitchen door. The charger stays plugged in on that wall. There's a magnetic connection between the collar and the charger. You have to get it aligned just right. Sometimes that requires sliding the opening in the canvas collar-cover thingy. It wraps around the collar with several Velcro closures.

Anyhoo... charging takes about an hour. The collar has been working great lately, after having two bouts of the charge not holding for the 36 hours it's supposed to. 

On Wednesday, Farmer H was home first. As I came up the gravel road, I saw him on the lower 10 acres, mowing. I slowed down and pointed to the back seat. My sign that he was needed to carry in groceries. Farmer H drove over behind the garage. The dogs were romping around waiting for me to get inside and give a treat. Farmer H took the groceries in while I remained in T-Hoe, waiting to close the garage door after he walked back through to the mower

On my way in, I stopped at the side porch for petting.

"Huh. One of you smells like smoke. And the other... is that skunk?"

Funny how neither Jack nor Pepper admitted that they smelled a bit less than fresh.

When I stepped into the kitchen, the smell hit me immediately. SKUNK!!! That had to be from Pepper's charging collar. I leaned over. Yep! No way was I touching that. WHY would Farmer H put that stinking collar inside the kitchen? A mere five feet from where I sit at the table with HIPPIE, scratching my lottery tickets in the evening. Of course I sent him a text:

"The whole kitchen smells like skunk from Pepper's collar. The charging is done, but I'm not touching it."

Ten minutes later I got a reply:

"Ok i didn't smell it  ill put it on him"

I cry shenanigans! He DIDN'T SMELL IT my rumpus! Let's remember that Farmer H is the one who declares he has a very sensitive nose, and can smell mold on bread before it is visible. I mentioned that the next day when he was carrying in groceries from a different trip.

"Do you have Pepper's stinking collar in the house again? You have outlets on the porch where you could charge it."

"I'm sorry, HM. I didn't smell it. It's inside. I didn't notice it today."

"You say you can smell MOLD on stale bread! But you can't smell SKUNK?"

"I never said I can smell mold. I SEE the mold."

"That's bull! You have always said you can SMELL THE MOLD! Anybody can SEE mold! That's NORMAL! I sure wouldn't be serving you bread with mold on it. But you've told me you won't eat a sandwich because the bread smells moldy."

"No. I don't smell it. I see it."

Pepper and Farmer H are BOTH stinkers!

At least Pepper didn't get a full spray. It's noticeable, but not overpowering. Farmer H had the nerve to say that he had smelled a little bit of skunk in the back yard when he was mowing, but didn't think anything of it. The dogs HAVE been chasing something down behind the Mansion, barking a lot. I thought it was just the possum they like to torment.

It Did FINALLY Happen! I Think...

T-Hoe did not come home on Tuesday! He spent a second night away, on the parking lot of Mick the Mechanic. Of course I was devastated. We had PLANNED it, by cracky! So I wouldn't go a day without T-Hoe.

Farmer H felt bad. He came home at 2:45, and offered to drive me to town. Of course I agreed. We took A-Cad, easier for me to get in and out. And not so junky as SilverRedO. I got my scratchers. They were terrible losers! But what did I expect, with Farmer H involved? That man is like a walking jinx for lottery tickets.

Farmer H had planned to drive back by and see if T-Hoe was out of the garage, but decided against it.

"I'll go by tomorrow morning with HOS (Farmer H's Oldest Son) after we work on the apartment. We'll drive it home, and then I can drop him off. You won't have to do anything. You should have your car by 10:00 at the earliest, or by noon."

"IF it's done!"

"They'll have to fix it. He thought it was fixed, and gave me the keys and said take it to town and put gas in it. It wasn't fixed! I bet it took me 15 minutes to put $6 of gas in it at Casey's!"

"SEE! Welcome to MY world. Since JUNE!" 

[Actually, The Pony's world, except for a couple of weeks.]

"I just thought it might work better at a different pump. It didn't! They found out that the charcoal canister had exploded. That's not uncommon in a 16-year-old car. [T-Hoe is 18! From 2008] So there was a problem with a plug. [I thought like an actual drain plug, but I suppose he meant a blob of charcoal clogging up a line.] So once they can find that, it should work."

True to his this promise, Farmer H was home at 11:30 on Wednesday. He left my key and the folded-up bill on the kitchen table, and escaped while I was in the bathroom. How much did it cost to fix T-Hoe's little problem?

$988.20

I divided the picture, so it wasn't so long and thin and sticking into the sidebar.

We either got a "break," or Farmer H was talking out of his rumpus. He said he thought they had T-Hoe in the garage Monday evening, maybe for the oil change, because he wasn't sitting on the parking lot Tuesday morning. Then again, he said he thought they worked on T-Hoe all morning. But T-Hoe wasn't done by 2:30. The hours of labor don't jibe with Farmer H's reports.

I wonder if it would have been so much if Farmer H had taken T-Hoe for repairs the first week I noticed the problem? When pumping gas was just slow, but not yet virtually impossible. The line might not have been plugged yet, or might have been easier to find. It might have taken less than four hours of labor.

Anyhoo... I haven't driven T-Hoe yet. On Thursday, we'll see if T-Hoe is accepting gas. Farmer H escaped before I could ask him if he tried it this time.

It's Finally Happening! I Think...

After our meeting with the financial advisor on Monday, I took T-Hoe to Mick the Mechanic's shop. Farmer H was already there in SilverRedO. He took my key (!) because he forgot to bring the spare. Why are none of us surprised?

I rode home in SilverRedO. My knees did not like it! Getting up on that skinny pipe of a running board was fine, but contorting myself to get the first leg in was torture. Next time, I will face out towards the door, and not in towards the cab. That way, my left leg will already be the first one to put inside, and I won't have to cross it over the right leg while clinging to the grip handle and the door.

Anyhoo... there shouldn't be a next time. Farmer H is supposed to pick up T-Hoe and drive home. Then I will drop him off to get SilverRedo on my way to town. 

T-Hoe is supposed to have the gas tank issue fixed. AND get an oil change. AND get the tires aired up to 35 pounds each. Right now they're at 26, 27, 28, and 27. That even after warming up from the overnight chill on the trip to town. My warning light keeps coming on because of the 26 pounds in the left front tire.

Yes, it would have been cheaper, I imagine, for Farmer H to air up T-Hoe's tires himself. Either with his compressor over at the BARn, or at the FREE AIR hose at the Gas Station Chicken Store. However... we all know that this process could take six months or more. So if Mick wants to charge for doing that, so be it. You'd think he'd throw it in as a service, with the exhorbitant amount he's likely to charge for the other work.

I'm a bit concerned, because T-Hoe was at Mick's overnight, ready to start when they opened. And now it's 2:00 on Tuesday, and Farmer H is still there. He sent me a text:

"Im here car still got problem they are looking at"

At least with Farmer H there, I suspect any extra-work, over-charging shenanigans will be curtailed. We'll see. T-Hoe isn't out of the shop yet.

Sometimes, People Need To Be Less Friendly

Bah! Humbug! You know curmudgeonly Mrs. HM does not really like people. In fact, they piss her off. Sometimes through no fault of their own, other than existing within her immediate vicinity. Pity the poor person who tries to make polite small talk. Mrs. HM is not having it! Well... not having it cheerfully.

I was standing at the new lottery machine in Save A Lot on Saturday. With these new machines, you make all your selections first. Then you go to the "checkout" feature, and it shows your list, and accepts payment. You can use cash, winning tickets, or a debit card. I scanned in my winning tickets, and was trying to put in a twenty for the rest of the amount. The machine won't let out any tickets until full payment is complete.

Dang it! That machine wouldn't take cash! The little green slot would not light up. It wouldn't even suck in my twenty and spit it back, like it does then there's a wrinkle or something wrong with the bill. I'd had this problem at 10Box a couple weeks ago. I figure it's because the machine is too full of money.

The problem is, that machine won't let you delete a few tickets from your shopping list. You have to delete ALL of them! Which was a problem, because I had quite a few $5 and $3 tickets, plus a PowerBall football draw ticket, and two $10 crossword tickets. It would have been fine if I could have just deleted the crosswords. But no. I had to buy them all, or delete them all. No way was I using a debit card. Not going down THAT slippery slope! I only buy with winning scratchers, or cash from my weekly allowance.

I had just deleted my entire shopping list when a dude came up behind my right shoulder.

"Saving any winners for me?"

"Oh, I'm sure there will be some left for you! Right now I'm trying to remember what tickets I had selected, because this machine isn't taking my money! I had to delete my selections, and now I'm starting over."

"It won't take money? I'm hoping it will take my twenty..."

Yeah. Whatever. Not my problem. I just wanted to pick my tickets again, and get them out of the machine. Because it had all my credits in there from my winners. No refunds on a lottery machine! You can't print out a credit ticket. I don't know what happens when the machine times out. Probably MOLottery keeps that cashed-in ticket money. I'm pretty sure these new machines re-set after 30 seconds of inactivity. They've given me a countdown before while I was still picking tickets, but that was when I didn't have any money/credit in it yet.

Anyhoo... the guy was just trying to be friendly, I think. Not wanting me to view him as a stalker looking over my shoulder. Just so I'd understand he was actually waiting to buy his own tickets. He didn't do anything wrong. I just don't like people. I don't like being interrupted when I'm in the middle of a scratcher crisis. And because I was rushed since he was waiting, I forgot to get my PowerBall football ticket.

This was not a quickpick. I had selected the 8 teams I wanted to play. Out of a chart of all 32 teams. It shows the helmets with logos, and a 3-letter abbreviation for the city. Don't you worry about Mrs. HM. She still got a ticket on Sunday morning, out of the machine at 10Box. My picks didn't win anything this week, but the quickpick I got at the Gas Station Chicken Store won $7. 

Anyhoo... I would have preferred a silent stalker, rather than this friendly man. I got my (unsatisfactory) tickets out, and proceeded with my shopping. I didn't wait to see if Mr. Nice Guy got the machine to take his twenty. 

Not Sure Whose Day Was Worse (Part 2)

When we last convened, it was Thursday afternoon around 4:15, and Farmer H was telling me that he was planning to drive to town for a new prescription, after having taken his "clean-out" medicine that morning.

"What? You're not coming to town! You might poop yourself! You've taken that medicine."

"Well, I have to get it. It's an antibiotic. They called me two hours ago and said it was ready. I don't even know which doctor prescribed it."

"I guess they'd let me pick it up for you? That my name is on your contacts? It's not a narcotic."

"Yeah, they'd probably let you pick it up. But you don't have to. I'm fine. I can drive to town."

"I'm sitting here RIGHT NEXT TO YOUR PHARMACY! I can do it."

"You could go to the drive-thru."

"Okay. I'll get it."

A car had just left the drive-thru, so I pulled right in. I couldn't reach the buzzer on the side of the building. But three women were milling around. I know one of them saw me. She looked right at me. But continued her milling. I continued my sitting. Staring through the window, trying to mind-control her to come give me service. It worked!

"What do you need?"

"To see if I can pick up my husband's antibiotic. He said it got called in."

"What's your husband's name?"

"Farmer H Hillbilly."

"Date of birth?"

"Month Day, Year."

"And his address?"

"1313 Old Gravel Road, Hillmomba."

"Okay. It looks like it isn't ready yet."

"Well, he said he got a call two hours ago that it was ready."

"It will have to be signed off on. And then I'll have to fill it."

"Do you want me to come in? So I'm not blocking your drive-thru?"

"If you want to. Where is Mr. Farmer, anyway?"

"He's home! He took the clean-out medicine! He's not going anywhere! So how long will it be? Maybe 10-15 minutes?"

"Sure."

She didn't sound all that certain. I drove around front and parked. To sit and wait, rather than go in and stand around. I called Farmer H.

"It's not even ready!"

"They told me it was!"

"Well, some old skinny blond lady told me it's not."

"I don't even know which one that is. If the guy is working, it will take a while. Everything's always late when he's working."

"She DID say 'HE'll have to sign off on it,' so..."

"Yeah. That means it's the guy pharmacist. I'm sorry."

"I'm just sitting here waiting. Good thing I used the Casey's bathroom when I got gas an hour and a half ago."

While I waited, five people pulled up and went in. Only one came back out. 15 minutes passed, and I went inside. There was an old man sitting in the Immunizations area, either before or after a shot. Two men were being waited on at the counter. A woman was in line, but got called to a third register by a man worker. One old guy wrapped up his transaction, and I got to the counter.

The 30-something dark-haired gal was really nice. I asked if they had a prescription ready for Farmer H.

"Of course we do!"

"Well, he DOES keep you guys in business!"

"Here it is. Just enter his phone number on the keypad. People find that easier than signing with their finger."

There was no charge. I was on my way out. The other old man was walking behind me. I stepped aside and told him to go ahead. I'm not winning any races these days.

Farmer H read the info on the bag. It was amoxicillin from the strange man urology NP he saw on Monday.

I know Farmer H is the one who's dealing with this treatment, but I think I had a worse day than he did on Thursday.