My Eyes Could Feast, But My Tongue Could Not

Last time The Pony came out, we picked up Chinese food. I always get the Chicken and Broccoli, with white rice that I give to The Pony to take home and use in a later meal. Farmer H likes the Hunan Chicken with fried rice. The Pony switches every time. This time it was some kind of chicken. I don't recall the name, but The Pony said it was spicy. 

Indeed. I was gifted the two broccoli pieces that were in it (The Pony is not a fan), and I almost choked to death. Okay. I wouldn't make that statement to The Pony. Who did actually almost choke to death too recently...

Anyhoo... since cutting back and making wiser choices, The Pony only ate part of the meal, and took the rest home for another day. It still looked delicious.

"I added ginger and curry powder and water chestnuts."

That still looks really good. I think that's the original fried rice that The Pony got this time with the meal, though usually it's white rice. As good as it looks, I know that one bite would have me sputtering and choking. I don't like the spice. The exception is hot Chinese mustard, which I use sparingly. And some horseradish occasionally.

Freezer Nutrition For The Pony

The Pony has been cutting back and making wiser choices. Some of those choices include frozen dinners. Here's a particular favorite:

"It's Chicken Pesto Rigatoni. Only 430 calories I think. And somehow has 25g of protein!"

"Chicken has a lot of protein."

"Yeah! I was just shocked because that's 43% of the daily value in one thing that's only a third calorically!"

"That's why I eat a lot of chicken."

"Texture leaves a little to be desired, but yknow, it's microwave chicken. I like these for days I don't feel like properly cooking. Just to mix into the lineup."

"Yeah. It's good, and convenient."

And a better choice than ordering something delivered, The Pony agrees.

Feed A Farmer, Starve A Patient

Farmer H's minor surgery was scheduled for Thursday. I wouldn't really call it minor, because general anesthesia is involved. But as surgeries go, it doesn't compare to his neck surgery or back surgery. The Pony was tasked with driving him home, though Farmer H planned to drive them both to the hospital, which is 30 minutes north.

Since I knew the surgery was coming up, I asked Farmer H what he wanted to eat for his "last supper." I thought it might be something light. Surely you don't want to go into a surgery feeling all stuffed and bloated from a hearty meal. Or DO you? Farmer H apparently does.

"I'll be starving to death! I cain't eat past midnight. I have to be there at 10:45. The surgery is at 1:00. It's supposed to take an hour. Then recovery. I'll be really hungry by the time it's over!"

So I made generic hamburger helper for Farmer H's supper the night before surgery. It's egg noodles and a powdered sauce, to which you add milk and hamburger. I didn't have any milk, but I substituted sour cream. The skillet had a pound of ground beef. Plus I added two cans of mushrooms. It turned out well.

Farmer H didn't eat the whole thing. I divided it into thirds. That gave him a large bowl of the noodle dish. It looked like beef stroganoff. He also had two biscuits with butter. Then a Little Debbie cake and a piece of watermelon.

Right now as I type, he's out of surgery and in recovery. The Pony says he's not asking for food. He says his throat hurts. Which is understandable after having a tube stuck down there.

Somebody DID Tell Him

This week is supposedly chock full of activities for Farmer H. He has been planning ahead, telling me what each day will bring. 

"Monday I have a dentist appointment. Then Tuesday is the monthly meeting for the apartments, in my new office. Wednesday I'm going to Illinois to pick up stuff for my store. And Thursday I have my surgery."

So many activities, so little time, for WORKING ON TWO FLIP HOUSES!

Anyhoo... Farmer H came in Monday evening. With a story.

"I got to the dentist on time. I sat there waiting for my appointment. Then she come out and said, 'What are YOU doing here? Your appointment is for the 24th.' So it wasn't today. It's in two weeks! I don't know why I thought it was today."

He said, picking up the notification postcard the dentist sends out, which was lying on the kitchen table right by the door, clearly showing his appointment date as August 24th.

I sure hope Farmer H is right about that surgery date...

You'd Think Somebody Coulda TOLD Me

This has been one of the most sustained heat waves I remember. I know it's hot in July. But usually we have several days between those 100+ heat index days, when temps might drop into the upper 80s. It seems like six weeks this sustained heat has settled over Hillmomba. I don't enjoy going out to get my scratchers, but I won't go without them like I would in an ice storm.

Saturday, I stopped by the Liquor Store. I haven't been going in there regularly, because often they're out of some of my favorite tickets. That's disappointing after walking in and standing in line. But I'd had several winners out of the 10Box machines, on tickets that are slow-moving. So I wanted to wait and let other people buy the assumed losers right after my winners.

Anyhoo... I got the parking space I like at the Liquor Store, the one on the far left end so nobody can park next to T-Hoe's driver's door. IT IS easier to get that space now, since the fake slot machines have been outlawed. I hobbled along the slanted blacktop next to the brick building, the heat pressing down on me like a damp quilt. Inside, there was only one man waiting at the counter. Seemed to be a problem with his card.

I stood a respectful distance back, holding my scratcher winner to cash in. The Clerk Gal was telling Customer that it shouldn't be too long. He was worried that his card would be charged twice, because he ran it through twice. She was watching her cash register monitor. He was watching the little square that shows his charges.

After about five minutes, a Boy Clerk came from the drive-through window. He asked about using cards, and Clerk Gal said they wouldn't work right now. Then they both walked back toward the drive-thru area. A young man parked in front and came through the door. I don't know if he was going to buy vapes, or scratchers. He stood beside me, rather than going through the aisles to pick up liquor.

I don't know if New Guy knew Customer, but he said, "What's the matter, man? Is it your card?"

"Yeah. Their internet's down, and it won't scan."

"Huh. That's tough."

New Guy walked back out, and I followed. He stopped to hold the door open for me.

"I'm so glad you asked! I could have been there forever. Nobody bothered to say the internet was down!"

"Yeah, I'm glad I asked."

Businesses can't even sell scratchers for cash when the internet is down, because they have to scan in the purchase to show that it's lottery. So who knows how long I might have been there waiting for nothing!

I took my business over to Casey's instead. Where I won $50 on a $10 crossword.

Oh, NO! Let's Not Weaken The Sauce!

At the Gas Station Chicken Store on Saturday, I was behind a lady buying scratchers. She turned to me, looked at the ticket in my hand, and asked if I had a big winner.

"Not real big, but $30 on a $10 ticket. So it's pretty good."

"You know, I can buy tickets from other gals in here, but I don't win. I have better luck with Fave."

"I KNOW! You don't have to tell ME about it!"

The Lady thanked Fave after the transaction, and started toward the door.

"Did you eat your eggs?"

"Yes. For breakfast. And my grandma says thanks for the tomatoes, too."

"You're very welcome."

"Oh, and good luck."

"You notice I didn't leave until you told me good luck! I always make sure of that."

Anyhoo... I won $35 that day on my Fave tickets. I was back on Sunday, the only customer in the store. After cashing in winners and getting new tickets, Fave said "See you on Thursday!" and I went out to T-Hoe to write on my tickets. I was startled to see the side door open, and Fave step out.

"I just wanted to come out and tell you GOOD LUCK. I think I might have forgotten."

"That's good! I wouldn't want that other lady to get all the good luck!"

Heh, heh. Fave must be raking it in from passing on all that good luck. She gives off positive energy, and it comes back to her in the form of tickets and eggs and tomatoes. I'm sure anybody winning a big jackpot won't forget about Fave.

Stranger In The Night

It was just before 8:00 on Wednesday night. Still light, but overcast. Pepper started baying on the front porch. It was a WARNING sound. Not his usual bark. His true hound was coming out, whatever that half may be. Jack is more of a yipper. He joined in, but Pepper's was more of an AROOOOO! There was the sound of frantic scrambling feet. Eight of them!

We were near the end of Big Brother, but Farmer H got up to go look. That's how urgent this doggy response was. Farmer H opened up the front door, and stepped onto the porch.

"Pepper! HERE, Pepper! PEPPER! Come on, Jack!"

The baying and yipping continued. Sounded like it was going farther out into the front yard/field. Farmer H stepped back inside to grab my childhood BB gun. It's old! Because I'm a really old child. Not the pump kind of BB gun. Just a lever to cock, and it shoots a single BB. We keep it there to discourage unwanted critter who try to make the Mansion their home.

I heard a couple shots go PFOOT! The baying and yipping lessened. The dogs gallumped up on the porch. Farmer H returned.

"It's some boxer dog. Brown and white. I've seen it out here before, but I don't know who it belongs to."

"Does it have a collar?"

"Yeah, it has a collar."

"So it belongs to somebody. If it got dumped, they would have taken off the collar."

"Probably. He wasn't aggressive or nothin'. Not trying to fight. Just in the yard, and ours didn't want him there. I shot a couple times, but didn't hit him."

"I'm glad they're warning us. They'll just have to get used to him. I don't see a problem if he's not trying to come up here and fight them. They're just protecting their territory."

"Yeah. They just need to leave him alone."

"At least now I know what they're probably barking at during the night. Just a dog. Not some criminal trying to break into your truck or shacks."

I guess our dogs will eventually get used to this one. The first neighbors on the blacktop road, at the top of the hill from Mailbox Row, used to have boxers. That's my best guess. They've had several over the years. It's only a mile or less from there to here. I don't know if they keep their dogs in, or let them run. I haven't seen any for a while, but that's a good thing, because it means they stay off the blacktop road.