A Whining Update

It's Monday now. My sickness is progressing. It has been fairly mild, as colds go. Sunday morning was the worst, with chills and then burning up, though I didn't feel like I had a fever. Just an inability to regulate my temperature. My eyes were sensitive to the sunlight when I went to town. I had a few sniffles, but not enough to cart around Puffs. Some sneezes later Sunday evening. Now I feel a bit of nose stuffiness and ear crackling. A tiny bit of wheeziness in the chest. But sometimes, I forget that I am sick. I have hope, because Farmer H seems to be getting over his bout, and it's the eighth day for him.

Farmer H picked up Domino's Pizza for us on Sunday evening. So I still had that treat. AND (knock on everything wooden within reach!) I still am able to taste. I attribute our quick recovery to doubling up on the vitamins. They contain vitamin C, zinc, and quercetin, which fight the replication of a virus.

Farmer H made another trip down the 13 rail-less steps to the basement on Sunday night. He was going to one of the safes anyway, after a weekend of business at his SUS2.5. But he DID re-set the router and satellite receiver again while he was down there. And it WORKED! My internet is back to regular speed! Though still too slow for The Pony's tastes, and just the mention of it makes me reach for all things wood again. I might have a new complaint, about bruised knuckles from knocking.

Still no ice from FRIG II. Farmer H looked up fixes on his phone Monday morning, and says he will try some of them when he gets home.

We continue not to think about T-Hoe's gas tank issue...

Not A Good Day For Mrs. HM

Here it is, Sunday at 1:30 p.m., and Mrs. HM is not having a good day. The Pony was supposed to come out for a visit. We had plans to pick up Domino's Pizza (this is the last day of the half-price sale), and play Upwords and chat until Farmer H got home.

Those plans were ruined on Saturday, when I came down with Farmer H's sickness! He ruins everything! I didn't even get close to him, other than not moving as he walked past after coming in the kitchen door. I'd make his supper, and move to another area while he fetched it. I made sure not to touch my face after handling the TV remote. I told him a couple times to stop breathing (!) in my direction. Which he denied. He's been sick since Tuesday. And now I've got it. Maybe from being careless after touching the faucets, perhaps. At the kitchen sink, the bathroom sink, and the laundry room where I filled a pitcher for the dogs' water.

Anyhoo... I told The Pony on Saturday morning that I had a sore throat, and was afraid I might be getting sick. The Pony decided not to risk it. I was sad. Of course I didn't want to make The Pony sick. But I was disappointed. Maybe we can try NEXT weekend, except for the Domino's part.

Adding to my misery is my January-molasses-slow internet. It's been creeping along since Friday. I don't know what's going on. I get the spinny circle, or timed-out notices. Then it will work again in three or four minutes. It's not like when my HIPPIE locks me out for an hour. 

Farmer H says my slow internet is from the hurricane. I am doubtful. This is MISSOURI! No hurricane affecting us. The Pony snorted at that assumption. Said our internet comes out of Chicago. I don't know the source of that information. The Pony also pooh-poohed my (conspiracy) theory that everyone's internet is slow because the government is snooping around trying to catch a terrorist plot, or just generally spy on election shenanigans. The Pony says that is SO FAR-FETCHED, when my own local personal internet connection is likely the culprit, and not a nationwide scheme.

I had Farmer H go down those 13 rail-less steps to the basement, and re-set the router and the satellite receiver. It did not affect the speed of my internet.

Also, FRIG II's icemaker quit again last week. I have been surviving on a bag of ice from 10Box. Let's not even think about T-Hoe's gas tank issue...

Maybe An Explanation, Though Not A Pleasant One

Remember last week, when I saw a dog standing beside our gravel road, and he ran after T-Hoe like he was lost? I think he really WAS lost! Now Farmer H has provided a piece to the puzzle.

"Our neighbor put a picture on Facebook, asking if somebody has seen a dog. It's a DALMATION! Must be the one she said was Pepper, down by the mailboxes. She should be able to tell the difference in a Dalmatian and Pepper. It's got big black spots!"

"Well, she's only seen Pepper a couple of times, I think. The first time when he was new, and the next time when her husband said he makes their dogs bark at night. I'm still not convinced that was Pepper's fault, even though I know he went over there."

"I felt like getting on Facebook and leaving her a message. Like, 'Oh, is that the dog you said was mine?' But I didn't."

"So it's just a lost Dalmatian?"

"No. There's a picture of two dogs. One is brown."

"Wait! I saw that brown dog last week. Does it look like part German Shepherd, but with longer legs and shorter hair?"

"No. Not really. Here. I'll show you the pictures. Somebody out on the county blacktop road lost them."

"That brown one looks like it! Like the one I saw."

"It says he's part beagle."

"Oh. I could see that. But he's got longer legs than a beagle. He's brown and black, like I saw."

"It says that's the one they're looking for. She said there's a $500 reward, if that makes anybody more interested."

"It wouldn't surprise me if he's around here. That's why our dogs are going crazy at night, and Pepper has been trying to breach the fence down by the creek, and past the Freight Container Garage for the past two days."

"Maybe. Because he usually doesn't go down there."

"Wouldn't it be funny if we found that dog, and got the reward? It would pay for Pepper's collar. I don't think I'd want the reward, though. Those people must really love that dog, to offer so much to get him back. The one I saw had tags. If he's found, the people should be able to get him back."

"Yeah. They must really want him."

"If somebody was keeping him, the reward would make them likely to give him back."

As I type this at 9:30 on Friday night, Jack is barking in the front yard...

Forget Me (And Me Too) Not

Mrs. HM has ways of finding out things Farmer H would rather keep hidden from her. He's really not all that clever. Which I think you probably know by now. He's good at a lot of things, but keeping secrets is not one of them.

I might have mentioned a couple weeks ago that Farmer H forgot his phone. Left it on the nightstand when he left for town at 6:00 a.m. I didn't notice until mid-morning, when I heard it ring, and answered a call from The Veteran. Farmer H came home to get it after lunch.

Farmer H forgot something more important (to him) last Saturday. His MONEY! Yes. That's HIS money! The wad of money in a clip, that he carries in his front pocket. He's a cash business, you know. And besides, you never can tell when he might come upon a bargain on Facebook, or sitting in somebody's driveway. Farmer H needs his cash. I saw it lying on the dresser in the bedroom.

I was shocked that Farmer H didn't call me to see if it was here. Or arrange for me to bring it to him. I suppose he made enough sales to have cash on hand to buy items later in the day. Or he might have made trades instead. However he dealt with it, Farmer H did not come home until the regular closing time on Saturday.

"Did you forget something?"

"Yeah! My MONEY! I got my donut at Casey's, and I didn't have no money..."

I could see right away that Farmer H's mouth had flapped before his brain could stop it.

"OH! So you still get a donut every morning at Casey's."

"No. No. Not every morning. I just wanted one today."

"Did they let you have it for free?"

"No. I had money. In my billfold. Regular money. So I paid for it. But that's when I knew I forgot my money. I didn't have time to come home and get it."

I sure don't know why not. It only takes 10 minutes to get home. And five minutes to get back to the highway that he takes to get to his SUS2.5. I don't think the world would have ended if he was 15 minutes later, opening his store at 6:45 instead of 6:30.

But now I know that he's STILL getting a donut (every morning, I suspect), in addition to the banana and apple and protein breakfast bar and small baggie of animal cookies that I set out with his lunch.

I guess Farmer H will be more careful now about remembering his phone and money.

One Number Away

Every day, I buy The Pony a Show Me Cash draw ticket. It costs $1, but I get the $2 version with the Easy Match play. It can win from $1 to $500. There are five chances to win a random assortment of amounts, by matching the five numbers on the ticket. A couple times a week, The Pony's quick pick ticket wins $2-$3.

Every morning, I check the winning draw numbers on my phone. The MOLottery app is terrible. Since the last two updates, my phone is all static on that app, but by tilting it just right, I can scan scratcher barcodes. It will NOT work on the draw tickets now. I can usually just eyeball it. It's only five numbers. But sometimes I don't have my glasses, and I'll check later on HIPPIE, to be sure.

This was Tuesday's ticket. I knew it won on Easy Match, because it makes a sound when the ticket prints out. I had checked in the car, and wrote on top that it won $2. In glancing glasses-lessly at the winning draw numbers Wednesday morning, I thought The Pony had matched three numbers. As I recall, that's $10. So I figured this ticket won $12 total. Still, I wanted to check on HIPPIE. Good thing I did!

The winning numbers that day were: 6, 15, 26, 34, 39

The Pony had matched FOUR numbers out of five. The prize was $250 !!!

I was shocked. The odds of getting four numbers were 1 in 3,386.

We're not complaining! The Pony is happy with this prize. But if we'd had only one more matching number, the jackpot that night was $72,000. It changes every drawing, depending on when it was last won. Then it re-sets to $50,000 and goes up according to how many tickets are sold, until it is won again. The odds for getting all five numbers are 1 in 575,757. The jackpot had been up to $502,000 on May 24th.

Anyhoo... that was a little bit of excitement to report. It wasn't even sold to me by Fave, but by the Other Gal, on Tuesday.

A Not-So-Secret Admirer

There was only one person at the counter of the Gas Station Chicken Store on Saturday. An older man, dressed neatly in a dark blue knit shirt, gray pants, and dark blue jogging shoes. He was chuckling with Fave. They seemed familiar with each other. For a split second, I wondered if it was her dad. That would be wishful thinking, though. I don't imagine that he's recovered so fast from his hospitalization a couple weeks ago.

"Okay, then. I'll get going. I'll see ya, Fave. Oh! Got a bunch of winners there?"

"I have a bunch of winners, but they're not BIG winners! They'll do."

Chuckles went out the door. He was parked out of sight, on the front side of the building.

"That guy! He comes in here all the time and flirts with me."

"He seems like a nice guy. I couldn't see what he drives. But he had nice shoes!"

"It's probably that little white pickup truck. He told me I was beautiful! And then said I was blushing."

"Well, why WOULDN'T he tell you that? And you ARE blushing, heh, heh."

"But I'm 48 years old!"

I can see why Chuckles would be flirting with Fave. She doesn't look her age. I might have guessed 38. She is outgoing, and gives off positive energy. I'm happy she has a not-so-secret admirer. Everybody likes to feel appreciated.

A Confederacy Of Rascals (Part 2)

Here it was, 11:00 on Sunday night, and I'd just learned that my package of dog treats had been delivered the previous day at 3:38. Well. Good luck to me finding it now. I tried to check the FedEx shipping details, hoping for a picture, to see if it actually came to the Mansion. No photo. I swear I usually get one. Then again, I usually get a notice on the morning it goes out for delivery. Wait a minute! It said it was "left on front porch."

I turned on the porch light and looked out. Nothing. I opened the door and stepped onto the porch. To my left, about five feet away, was my little Jack. SITTING BY A BOX. An open box. Jack hunkered down an walked to me. He looked guilty as all get-out, even though I had not said a word in my shock. Jack licked at my CROCS and rolled onto his back.

"It's okay, Jack. You're not in trouble. You're a good boy. Let's see about this box."

After reassuring Jack some more, and giving Pepper, who had come from the back porch by now, a cursory pat... I carried the box into the house.

THE TWO PACKS OF DOG TREATS WERE INSIDE!

How in the Not-Heaven had those treats survived 31.5 hours on the porch with two chewing dogs??? It was a miracle. The packing slip was inside, too.

They had definitely been working on getting into that box! Two corners were chewed. The clear tape was gone. Any packing materials were gone. I had seen Pepper in the front yard with a black mass that looked like a shredded garbage bag on Saturday. It might have been those blow-up packing pillow thingies.

This might be a case of the recipient enjoying the box more than the gift! Don't mind Farmer H's stack of clean shorts on the couch. It's become his new closet.

I'm guessing the box was actually sealed when it was delivered. I suppose the dogs might have tried sticking their heads in to get at the treats, but the flaps might have closed on their necks and spooked them. Otherwise, the treats must not be very appealing!

Poor little Jack. He probably has PTSD from the time he ate 1/3 of Genius's gift of a bison leather wallet that was also delivered to the front porch by FedEx, and found in the front yard/field in Jack's mouth! Heh, heh. Maybe all that thumping I heard was Jack trying to take the box away from Pepper, because he knew it was wrong!

Yeah. I don't believe that scenario. Those rascally dogs took great advantage of the laxity of the rascally FedEx delivery team.