As If He Thought This Was A Good Defense

You are about to get a peek into why Mrs. HM lives in a state of incense-ation. As you might suppose, it involves Farmer H.

Yesterday morning, we were preparing to leave for the casino. Farmer H had been to town to gas up A-Cad (and most likely have a clandestine donut). I had asked him to get some scratchers for me, because I knew we'd get back around 5:00, and I didn't want to go to town then. I gave him three losing tickets as examples of what I wanted, and the money.

You know where this is headed, right? Farmer H returned home with my tickets. Except he had bought two extra, because Casey's was out of the one that I wanted. Then he went to Orb K and got that one. Oh, and he told me the extras were the Tetris ticket that I like, but they were totally NOT Tetris, but a green color rather than red, purple, or blue, with a money theme and a back-scratch playing area that is not on Tetris. Yet he STILL swore they were Tetris, because that's what he'd asked for, so the girl messed up, or they have their tickets in the wrong slots.

Heh, heh! That's not even what got me incensed. I was kind of expecting something like that to happen, given how Casey's always seems to have their tickets in the wrong slots every time Farmer H goes there to buy some for me.

Because he had spent an extra $10 on tickets, I went to my purse and extracted a ten. I took it to the living room on my way for a last bathroom break before the 90-minute trip. I was leaning on the back of the couch. I dropped the ten on the TV table beside the remote.

"Here's your ten."

The bill fell down on the table surface. Farmer H reached for it. And...

PICKED UP AN INK PEN AND HELD IT OUT TO ME!

"What are you doing? Why would I want that?"

"You said you wanted a pen."

"No. I gave you your money. And said, 'Here's your ten.' This is what causes all the problems around here. You can't hear, and you make up stuff you claim that I say. Then when I talk louder, you accuse me of yelling."

"I can hear! I hear you, HM. I just don't listen to you."

SWEET GUMMI MARY! WHAT IN THE NOT-HEAVEN???

As if such a statement would be acceptable. A man telling his wife that he can hear her, but he chooses not to listen to her. 

I might as well tell him that I cook his supper, but I don't care if the food is done or expired. 

Pepper Is Hazardous To Our Health

This is the 7th day of new puppiness. Pepper has been here one week. He is settling into life at the Mansion. He hardly barks at all now. I was thrilled on Tuesday when I saw that he had eaten all of his moist puppy food. He had been just nibbling at it here and there. But Tuesday, it was all gone at 3:00. 

I told Farmer H to put some more food out. He argued that the can said a small dog only needs about 1/3 of the can a day. NO! If Pepper is eating it all gone, he needs to have the option of more. He's a growing puppy! Farmer H put out more last night, which he ate, and more this morning, which is now gone at 1:00. It's not like Pepper has to watch his figure to become a supermodel.

I go out several times a day for petting. Pepper gets into the laundry room, because I can't step in and close the door fast enough. He sniffs around, and finds things to chew on. NO! I have to help him back out on the porch by the nape of the neck. It takes three or four tries before success is achieved. In fact, yesterday I almost gave myself a concussion. In my haste to close the door behind Pepper, I slammed the doorknob into my bent-over noggin! That smarted. It left a knot. There might be a bruise by now. 

Farmer H says he gets Pepper out of the laundry room by throwing him!!! "Well. I don't actually THROW him. I scoop him up with my hand under his belly, and give him a toss out the door. He lands on his feet. He's fine. He turns around to come right back."

Pepper has razor-sharp toenails. And his teeth are nothing to sneeze at, either. Both Farmer H and I have scabbed arms from the maulings we get while picking up and petting Pepper. He's a little chewer, and must be told NO! He's pretty smart. When I say NO! and stop petting after a nip, he will sit down and look up at me. Before starting to nip again. It takes patience, but I think Pepper is learning.

Farmer H brings Pepper in the Mansion at 5:30 a.m. I hold him until he's too rambunctious. He settles down when Farmer H comes back into sight. Then I set him down on the floor, and he sniffs around, and tries to chew on our feet or pants legs. No accidents in the house.

Farmer H takes Pepper back to the porch before he leaves, and feeds him. Our biggest concern is when Pepper is old enough to run free. Farmer H is certain he will run after SilverRedO when he starts to town. The plan is for me to bring him in the Mansion, or feed treats to him and Jack on the back porch.

In the evenings, Farmer H takes Pepper out by the carport, where he sits on the toolbox he took out of SilverRedO, and watches Pepper explore. Farmer H pets Jack to let him know he's still special. Jack only growls when Pepper pounces on him and nips. I consider that fair warning. Pepper will have to learn canine manners.

A Hot Time In The Old Mansion Last Night

It's HERE! Our new heat pump. Which replaces the new heat pump we paid $8,500 for on September 9th. The Mansion has been running on Auxiliary Heat all through the frigid January cold snap. Now that it's about to hit 75 degrees on Wednesday, we have our new(est) heat pump installed.

I was a bit surprised when Farmer H said it was coming on Monday. That's President's Day. A holiday for many businesses. But Hick said the HVAC Guy was supposed to be here with it between 8:00 and 8:15 on Monday morning. 

"You'll be here, won't you? So I don't have to deal with it?"

"There ain't gonna be no dealing with it. He just has to connect it outside. I'll be here. All I'll have to do is switch over the thermostat off the Auxiliary Heat."

I believed Farmer H. Which is my own fault. I should have known better.

The HVAC Guy got here at 7:40. That's A.M.! In the morning! I was sitting on the short couch, shrouded in a fleece throw, because I'm always cold. Even though the Auxiliary Heat has been working just fine, keeping the Mansion at 70 degrees. Farmer H had just opened the shades to watch for his arrival, and exclaimed: "There he comes now!"

Farmer H grabbed a jacket and went out. I continued watching TV. Then I heard Jack, and saw him running along the trees in the front yard, looking over his shoulder. That was odd. You'd think he'd be looking at the driveway. Then I saw Farmer H come tooling along on his green tractor. Down along the trees, having gone up through the BARn field with it, then back down through our yard. He went around to the back of the Mansion.

About 15 minutes later, Farmer H came up the basement steps (13 rail-less). I thought he was going to adjust the thermostat, but he was only there for a warmer jacket.

"Why were you on the tractor? To help unload it?"

"No, to move it around to the back of the house. He's got the van parked out here on the gravel by my sheds (Shackytown Boulevard). He can't get it around the back because of the mud. And I might have to pull his van if he cain't get across the yard to leave. He's hooking it up now."

About an hour went by. I was snug under my fleece throw. Farmer H came up to set the thermostat for turning on the heat pump. I heard the Auxiliary Heat go off. Then nothing else kicked on. About five minutes later, 

A STRANGE MAN CAME UP THE BASEMENT STEPS!

He walked past me to the thermostat on the wall behind me. Farmer H huffed up the steps after him. If looks could kill, Farmer H would have expired in his tracks. He just gave a shrug. Good thing I was not in the bathroom with the door open! Good thing I was wrapped in a fleece throw.

"Yeah, it's set to run automatically," said HVAC Guy. "I'm not going to do anything just yet. Let's give it a few minutes. Sometimes these heat pumps just need a hard reset. You start taking them apart, but then they start running after about five minutes. Let's wait and see."

Back they went down those steps. A couple minutes later, I heard the heat kick on. I didn't know if it was Auxiliary Heat or the heat pump. But I heard it. And then I saw HVAC Guy's van go across the yard and up the driveway. Farmer H returned to the living room.

The new new heat pump has been running ever since. I can't tell a bit of difference, other than a different sound when it kicks on. Monday night, I was huddled on the short couch again, under the fleece throw, shivering as usual. Farmer H asked what was wrong.

"Nothing. I'm just cold. It's 70 degrees in here."

"I'm sweating!"

Well, no wonder. He was still wearing his town clothes, and not just tighty-whities.

It's About Time

T-Hoe has new tires! Four! You would expect that many, but then again, we're relying on Farmer H to get them... It's only been four or five months since he declared that he was getting tires for SilverRedO, and that T-Hoe definitely needed tires by December.

I can definitely tell a difference. I noticed it when I walked into the garage. As someone who agonizes over climbing into a vehicle, I'm attuned to such things. I swear that T-Hoe sits at least two inches taller now. Which is in addition to the two inches he gained when the suspension system was finally repaired. 

Farmer H says they are the same size tires as before. I don't think so. Even from outside, before stepping up on the running board, these tires seemed bigger. They filled more of the wheel well. The Pony couldn't tell a difference on Errand Day. That's traitor behavior! I needed VALidation. 

It's possible that the extra nine lbs of air pressure makes a two-inch difference, I suppose. Having the regulation 35 lbs of air as opposed to 26 lbs will make a car sit higher. It's not just hoisting myself in that makes me notice. It's also when I slide out. I feel like my feet aren't going to hit the ground!

The engine puttering noise was also supposedly "fixed." But Mick the Mechanic told Farmer H that he wasn't sure if that was it. That we'd just have to see if it worked. It seemed to, until yesterday, when I thought I heard the puttering upon starting. Farmer H stands by his story that it could be a lot of things.

Anyhoo... that little two-day sojourn at the shop cost us over $2000! Labor was $625. We used the money that was paid back for Farmer H's replacement of his wrecked trailer. Plus the rest from my miscellaneous fund that I add to every week.

At least T-Hoe is rolling on good tires. He even seems to drive better, though Farmer H says the tires were just put on, and not balanced or anything. Which seems odd. I thought that was part of the procedure for putting on tires. Farmer H probably didn't hear my question, and just made up an answer.

Looks Like We've Been FIRED!

I was surprised to find our gas bill on the kitchen table Thursday. That was 10 days before it was due! There might have even been time to mail the payment, but with the President's Day no-mail holiday on Monday, I didn't want to take a chance. I used the Guest Pay option online. 

I'm not sure why this bill was actually on time. It was twice the amount of the last bill, but we attribute that to the 10 days of below-zero weather during that billing period. Not a big deal. It was still only $150, even with Farmer H and Old Buddy working at Bargain House, and running the furnace.

Here's the most puzzling thing about this bill. It said the amount due was based on the ACTUAL READING! Right there on the bill! Read Type: Actual.

You may recall that the previous few bills included a form instructing us to READ OUR OWN METER. And then to go online and report the numbers within five days of the self-reading.

This time there was no form. No self-reading. Farmer H and I have been FIRED by the gas company! We are no longer meter-readers! Can't say I'll miss the monthly grind of such ungainful employment.

Farmer H Picks Up Picked-Out Pepper

Thank the Gummi Mary, Farmer H chose the right pup when he went to pick him up Thursday afternoon. I don't know if he was smart enough to show the picture on his phone, as I insisted. More likely, Giver knows her pups, and remembered the one I asked for. She even gave him a bath!

They arrived at the Mansion around 3:00, as I was leaving for town. Of course I had to delay my trip by 20 minutes to hold Pepper. He smelled so fresh! Like shampoo. He snuggled right in, but was shaking. Not from the cold, because we were in the laundry room, and it was 60 degrees outside.

"He's just scared. He whimpered all the way here. I had him in that box on the front seat of my truck."

"Well, no wonder. It's like he's been kidnapped. He doesn't know where he is, and we're holding him captive. He was calling for his momma to come find him."

"Yeah. He'll get used to it."

Farmer H was going to get the pet carrier and put it in the laundry room, for Pepper to spend the night. Then he decided against it. The temperature wasn't going down much overnight. Pepper was surprisingly quiet. I expected more whimpering. I went out to pick him up and pet him when I got home from town. Farmer H checked on him a couple times. When it got dark, he took out Pepper's blanket that Giver had sent with him. Said he snuggled in on it inside his dog house.

Friday morning, I had Farmer H bring Pepper inside so I could hold him for the half hour before Farmer H left. Pepper was quite feisty! Like he didn't want to snuggle with me on the couch! I held him on my chest, one arm wrapped around him. He was very squirmy! And started yipping and howling. Which is just the cutest thing. Not sure if he was hollering for him momma, or excited to be inside. When Farmer H talked, it got Pepper's attention. He might be bonding with his "kidnapper," and come to adore Farmer H like Scarlett did. At least he knew Farmer H from a couple visits before he was taken. And Farmer H is the one who feeds him.

That's kind of a problem. It's like Pepper doesn't want to eat. Farmer H had gotten him puppy kibble. I thought he was getting some canned food as well, but he did not. He said Giver had been giving Pepper the dry food with a little water sprinkled on it, mixed with wet food.

I visited Pepper throughout the day on Friday. Every couple of hours. Petting and picking up and putting down and wrestling a bit. Pepper has sharp puppy claws! My arms were dripping blood. It was hard going back inside, because by the time I got through the door, Pepper was inside. There's no shooing a puppy. I had to get a neck-nape grip and coax him across the threshold, then be quick with the door, taking care not to slam his puppy head into the jamb.

Intermittently, Pepper would take five minutes to have a howling fit. I did not go check at that time, because it would be rewarding his howls. I swear, Pepper might really have some beagle in him, from sound of his voice. When I'd sneak in for the next visit, I'd see Pepper sitting in front of the door. Or nowhere, which meant he was in his house napping. He would run to me when I called him. Wanting to be picked up, then wanting to be put down.

When Farmer H got home, I told him I didn't think Pepper was eating. The kibble was still in the food pan. 

"I'm not sure he understands how to eat. Maybe he's just hungry."

"She said he was eatin' the dry food. Do we have anything else?"

"Just a hot dog. Or sandwich meat. I'm sure 10Box sells puppy food. They have a pet aisle."

"I'll get some tomorrow. Maybe cut up some of that hot dog real little. Or do we have milk?"

"There's a little. Not sure if it's still good."

Farmer H took out some diced hot dog. Put some in Pepper's mouth. SAID he ate it, but I'm doubtful. Looks like all of it is still in the food pan. Farmer H took out a bowl of milk. Said Pepper drank a little. Saturday morning, I tried some shredded turkey lunch meat. Pepper was not interested. When I tried to put it in his mouth, he clamped his lips shut. At least it stopped the howling!

I'm hoping Pepper will like the canned food. I figure a pup will eat before it will starve to death with food right in front of it.

Introducing, The Cutest Little Pupper Named Pepper

THE PUPPY HAS ARRIVED!

If you are hoping for adorable puppy pictures, I apologize. I don't have them. It's not for a lack of trying. Capturing a half-heeler pup on the back porch is like catching lightning in a bottle. Difficult. It's easier to capture the actual puppy than the picture.

There's Pepper. In his back-porch pen this morning around 9:30. There's his house in the background, with the bacon-scented chew toy in front like a just-delivered morning paper. And the brown dog statue from the side porch that Farmer H put there to keep Pepper company. He said Pepper was licking it. Well. Every animal that comes across the porch stops to pee on it. So that's not really something I want to think about.

Pepper has no respect for personal boundaries! And tries to squeeze through narrow spaces intened to keep him out! I picked up Pepper for petting purposes. Then set him down. He was all over the place, though I had to lure him out of his house at first. Pepper got into the laundry room, which was fine, because I had the door to the kitchen closed. After a bit of investigation, I finally shooed him out. 

This does not look like Pepper at all, but since there was no other puppy on the porch, it has to be him! He was howling to be let into the Mansion, heh, heh. Or for Farmer H to come rescue him.

More picking up and petting ensued. Jack came around the kitchen to investigate.

Jack did not seem at all impressed when I held out Pepper over the barrier, like a low-level Lion King proffering, for his inspection.

Tomorrow, I'll tell a little about Pepper's first day and night.