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.

Not Sure Whose Day Was Worse (Part 1)

Thursday is my regular errand day. I drive over to Sis-Town and pick up The Pony. Then we go to the bank, to get T-Hoe's gas, and to Country Mart. Sometimes we go in the post office, and other times just drop Genius's weekly letter in the box on their parking lot. It is timed for me to leave the Mansion at 2:00, pick up The Pony at 2:30, and get back to the Gas Station Chicken Store in Hillmomba by 4:00. That's when Man Owner leaves, and the coast is clear to give Fave the scratchers I "tip" her with each week.

Farmer H knew he would be drinking the clean-out medicine, and not going to town all day. He had asked me if Thursday would work for me. Yes! That was the best day, because I'd be away from home (and Farmer H) longer. He got up around 6:00, and drank his medicine as directed.

Not much really happened all morning. I guess maybe it was a different prep than given for colonoscopy tests. Because this one was just a small bottle. Didn't need mixing in a jug to sip all day. Farmer H had the expected results, but nothing urgent or explosive. By 2:00 as I was getting ready to leave, he said,

"If I'd a-knowed this was all that was going to happen, I could have gone to town like normal. There's a bathroom at the flip house, and at the Senior Center."

"Well. Don't be too relaxed. It still might hit you later."

I was off to town, and Farmer H was continuing his annoying habit of not sitting still. He had "cleaned" the bathroom toilet (curious timing, at the start of the morning of this treatment) and sink. He washed four loads of laundry. Actually folded them and put them away. Bagged up a pile of his old shoes and drove them up to the dumpster on the hood of the lawnmower. He snacked all day (also curious timing) on powdered donut holes, Payday Mix, butter cookies, strawberry wafer cookies, and a Drumstick ice cream. Had his regular breakfast of a protein bar and banana, and a lunch of mini sausage biscuits and Ruffles potato chips. It's a wonder he got "cleaned out" at all!

Anyhoo... I was trapped there with fidgety Farmer H until 2:00. I'm surprised he didn't get out the vacuum and tell me to lift my feet! Aside from my nerves being shot by my constant companionship, I escaped relatively unscathed for my town trip.

The bank lady took forever to serve the single (of three) drive-thru lanes that they have open lately. The wind was whipping strongly at Casey's when we stopped for gas. Temps were upper 70s, so it wasn't a chilling wind. Just powerful. In fact, The Pony jumped out to come around and hold my door open for me to get out, and then back in. That wind would not let T-Hoe's heavy doors stay open long enough for my egress and ingress.

Grocery shopping and mail were uneventful. I dropped off The Pony, and made it to the Gas Station Chicken Store at 4:05. That's when the rest of my day hopped on the express handbasket to Not-Heaven.

Fave's car was not on the parking lot! It was Other Gal's car. So my "payoff" would be delayed until Friday. Meaning I would have to go to town later than I like, to avoid Man Owner. And even so, Fave might not be there that day, either.

I did my business with Other Gal. Once back in T-Hoe, I called Farmer H to tell him I was starting home with the groceries. It takes 10 minutes. This way, he can be watching, and come out to carry for me. 

"Okay. I have to come to town anyway once you get here. I have another prescription."

To Be Continued...

I Guess I Can't Tell Him He's Full Of It

For a couple days, I'll have to find another way to tell Farmer H that he's full of it. Because even though he figuratively is, he literally isn't.

Remember that surgery Farmer H had way back on August 13? The "roto-rootering" of his prostate, as he called it? He's still not back to normal, and it's been two months! The innernets say it could take three months. I hope so. Meaning I hope that's all it takes, is a little more time. I don't like Farmer H being miserable, unless I'm the one causing it.

Monday, he went back to the doctor to complain. Not the surgeon responsible, but a work-in appointment with a urology NP. This was a traveling guy who works all over the country. Farmer H was impressed, after being scared.

"This wasn't the regular gal who sees me up there. This was a big man! He looked like a lumberjack. He had a beard. His hands were HUGE. He might have been some kind of foreigner, but he didn't have no accent, and his name looks American. But he was wearing almost I guess what you'd call a turban on his head. 

Anyway, he told me to get that stuff you take before a colonoscopy. The clean-out medicine. He says I might not THINK I'm constipated, but that is what could be causing me not to be able to pee. And that straining breaks blood clots loose from the healing, even though it shouldn't still be doing it now, and that could block me from peeing. Also, he wants me to have another scan. He looked at the one the gal had done last time, and didn't notice anything in it."

Well. Farmer H got the scan ordered the next day. They gave him the runaround, saying he went to the wrong place, and then the other place said they didn't have an order, and then he had to also have a blood test. It was a mess-up of epic proportions, but at least this new strange man got things done at his end.

Which brings us to Farmer H's end. A story to be continued...

A New Wishy-Washy Turn Concerning T-Hoe's Gas Tank Problem

Sometimes I wish the excuses I'm given would remain consistent! Farmer H is a master of excuses, especially where T-Hoe's needs are concerned. I'm sure you recall the problem with T-Hoe's gas tank not wanting to allow gasoline in at a normal pace.

First there was the excuse that he would have to get under T-Hoe and take something apart to replace whatever is clogged. Too much trouble.

Second, it was just because of Casey's pumps. SilverRedO did the same thing. Get my gas somewhere else. Like that station next to the Devil's Playground.

Third, Farmer H had an appointment with Mick the Mechanic to fix T-Hoe. But since he couldn't guarantee he'd be done by 10:30 so Farmer H could get to Illinois with his buddy for lunch and a merchandise-buying trip, he canceled the appointment.

Fourth, Mick was too expensive. That would cost a lot for labor, him taking so long. So Farmer H was going to get an appointment with the dealer over in Sis-Town.

Fifth, that's just too much time to spend sitting at the dealer waiting for the work to be done. Time that could be spent working on the flip houses. (Yeah, right! More likely fiddling around at the SUS2.5)

Sixth, we COULD get an appointment with Mick, but then I might not have T-Hoe one day, and I'd have to miss my town trip, because he would take so long.

Seventh, just go to Casey's. Use the pump farthest from the door. It has less pressure in it than the ones closer. So the gas goes in almost like normal.

I've had enough! I told Farmer H that I'm tired of (The Pony) taking 15 minutes to pump half a tank of gas every week. This has been going on since JUNE! That he needs to get an appointment with Mick for Tuesday. 

On Monday, we have the yearly meeting with our financial advisor. I will meet Farmer H there, then on the way home, he can meet me at Mick's and drive me home in SilverRedO. The work will get done on Tuesday. And Tuesday afternoon, Farmer H can bring T-Hoe home, and on my way back to town, I'll drop him off to get SilverRedO.

There's no need for me to miss a town trip. It just means Farmer H can't be carousing all over the county on Tuesday afternoon. He'll try to finagle his way into coming home at 4:00, but I'm demanding 2:00, my regular town time. T-Hoe should be finished before noon, anyway. And I'm sure Farmer H isn't spending his time after lunch working on flip houses. Otherwise, they'd be done by now!