Sweet Snoozing Pepper

The Pony was here on Sunday to download my TurboTax on the new computer he got me a couple Christmases ago. It has Windows 11, which I've been avoiding. HIPPIE runs Windows10, which is no longer an option to use for this year's TurboTax. I swear, they're in cahoots with Microsoft!

Anyhoo... we brought Pepper in the house to be near us while we were computing and visiting. Pepper is not allowed the run of the Mansion. No siree, Bob! The Mansion is not puppy-proof. Pepper escaped one morning while Farmer H was putting him back on the porch. He had neglected to close the laundry room door. Pepper was roaming the kitchen, looking at himself in the oven door reflection. At least he didn't get to the basement steps. I would not have been able to get up fast enough to stop him.

Anyhoo... we had Pepper in the big box Farmer H used when bringing him home in SilverRedO. Pepper is getting almost too big to be contained by the box. He has learned that jumping against the side will tip it over. Also, he finds it particularly tasty.

We wrassled around a bit to wear Pepper out. Played tug-o-war with his blue towel. The Pony used Pepper's pink squeaky pig to distract him from tipping over the box. After about an hour of such play, Pepper grew drowsy. He was like a toddler fighting off a nap.

Just before his eyes closed for the nap. Looks like Pink Squeaky Pig was also tired out, lying face down with his ears drooping. Pepper slept on and off for an hour. He'd raise his head or sit up when one of us moved. Followed the sounds of us leaving the kitchen for the bathroom. He'd try to rally and play-bite if petted.

The Pony would hum a lullaby for Pepper. This was a magical sleep aid! He'd go right back to snoozing. Once he woke, refreshed, we played for about another hour. We had just put Pepper back into his porch pen when Farmer H came home.

Not that he would have cared. Farmer H seems to be allowing Pepper many privileges not afforded to my little Jack.

Such Deceptive Advertising

Sunday was spent with The Pony, downloading TurboTax on my new laptop, and just hanging out. We ate frozen Chinese dinners for lunch. I didn't really want to cook by the time Farmer H came home from his SUS2.5, so I'd told him in advance he was getting a frozen Hungry Man dinner. I asked what kind he wanted. He said Salisbury Steak, or Meat Loaf.

The selection in Country Mart did not include a Salisbury Steak. But it DID have a Grilled Beef Patty, which looked better than the Meat Loaf. They had the same side dishes. So I took the Grilled Beef Patty dinner, because that was the first kind Farmer H mentioned. 

I took out the box to read the directions. It could be microwaved or put in the oven. I figured that it was easier to put it in the oven while Farmer H was driving The Pony home. It would be done right as he returned.

It looked like just what Farmer H wanted. Hamburgers in gravy, with mashed potatoes, and mixed vegetables. He had even seen the box, and according to The Pony, who showed it to him, he said, "Yum."

Well. Little did he know what was inside. I almost felt sorry for him!

Where's the BEEF? Those are the tiniest patties I have ever seen! They are the size of breakfast sausage patties! Nowhere near the depiction on the package! I don't think the brand Hungry Man is supposed to mean the man will still be HUNGRY after eating it! 

At least there was a plentiful amount of the mixed vegetables. And mashed potatoes. Farmer H said the patties were pretty thick. So there's that. He also said it tasted good. 

I did not ask if he would choose this meal again.

The Universe Smites The Pony

Alas, poor Pony! The Universe has leveled a severe blow. It happened on Thursday, our casino day. I checked my phone around 5:30 a.m., waiting for Farmer H to come out at his regular time and bring Pepper in to play. 

Huh. There was an email. From The Pony! That was unusual.

"Well. As of now, my phone appears to be completely dead. I'm not sure if it'll even ring, but right now it doesn't even open. I'll try to be there on time."

At 6:00, I called The Pony. I had intended to do so, as a wakeup call. The Pony answered, surprised that the phone rang. Still. It was NOT miraculously fixed.

Yeah. That's not normal. While I DO like the color, heh, heh, I wouldn't want that to be MY phone screen. You can't get into anything. Can't send or receive texts. Can't call out. Can't set alarms. Thankfully, it will ring and let The Pony answer.

We still have The Pony's phone on our account, for the unlimited internet. The Pony pays us every month. This phone is still not paid for from when it was bought last year. It's a monthly payment, not an outright purchase. Luckily, Farmer H and The Pony have a protection plan. They are hard on phones.

Anyhoo... The Pony was planning to take the phone to the T-Mobile store over in Bill-Paying Town, to see where to take it for fixing. But upon searching about it on the laptop, discovered that now they usually give a replacement phone (refurbished) for $99, rather than fixing them on site. Last time Hick and The Pony had to take the broken phone to a St. Louis facility for fixing.

Anyhoo... the plan was for The Pony to file the claim online for the damage [it fell in the sink a couple weeks ago but was fine until now] and the replacement. Except that the account needed a one-step verification to get in (which had been set that way by The Pony) consisting of a code number sent by text. Which The Pony can't receive on the broken phone! It's set specific to the phone number. So doing it on mine or Farmer H's wouldn't work. No wonder The Pony had a migraine on Friday.

But wait! On Saturday morning at 5:33, I got a text. From The Pony!!! 

"Holy sh!t I woke up after an alarm went off and the screen worked just long enough to connect it to my computer so I can get the texts and everything. Literally the second I got it linked the screen glitched out again. It already stopped working again but I can get one time passwords and everything from it now on my computer. My heart is pounding from the rush to set that up."

Anyhoo... The Pony got the claim filed. Paid the deductible and the tax. It was approved automatically, and now The Pony has a shipping number to track it with UPS. The "new" phone is expected on Monday or Tuesday.

It seems like The Universe had a change of heart.

More Not Listening, And Incriminating Embellishment

On Friday, I picked up a few items at the store, and got home just before Farmer H arrived. Meaning I had to carry in the frozen stuff by myself. I was expecting him to get there at the same time, from our phone conversation. Turns out he forgot to pick up his medicine, and had to go back to the pharmacy. 

Anyhoo... I was standing around the kitchen, waiting on him, to see how soon he wanted supper. He takes Pepper outside for a while when he gets home. I either want to have some time with my scratchers, or get his supper over with first so I don't have to stop.

"Do you want a drink first, or just supper?"

"I'm taking the little dog out."

"That's not the question. I was going to get it ready before I change clothes. Do you want a drink first, or just supper?"

"Supper is fine. I can just microwave it when I'm ready. I have to go to the bathroom!"

Off he went, to the master bathroom. I waited. And waited. Until finally Farmer H returned to the kitchen.

"So do you want a drink first, or just supper?"

"I told you, I'm taking out the little dog!"

"I know that! That's not the question! You always take Pepper out when you get home. I'm trying to find out when I should put your sausages in the oven. If you want it when you come in, or if you're having a drink first and I can scratch some tickets."

"I'm taking out the dog!"

"THAT'S NOT THE QUESTION! Look at me! Do you want supper or a drink?"

"A drink! I'll have a drink!"

"You just said supper before you ran to the bathroom! I'm trying to figure out how much time I have before starting it!"

"I want a drink. And supper! I can have a drink with supper!"

"Fine! I'll put it in the oven before I change, and I'll pour the drink for you to add soda."

Why should a simple question be so hard? You notice that it's to his benefit to answer. I'm doing something for HIM. I only want to know how to budget my time. I put his sausages in the oven at 250, figuring he'd be outside for a while with Pepper and Jack. I poured his Wild Turkey and added some ice, with it sitting on the cutting block so he could add the soda.

I went to get my other clothes, and change in the boys' bathroom. I was still in there when I heard Farmer H return. That was quick. I heard the pop of the soda can opening. I figured he was getting his drink and going to sit in the recliner until supper was ready. I came out of the bathroom to see nobody in the recliner.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting my buns."

"Your food isn't warm yet! It's on a low temperature. You were only out there 10 minutes!"

"Well, Pepper seemed like he enjoyed it, and was ready to come in."

"Your buns will get stale."

"They're fine. I imagine the sausages are warm enough. I can smell them."

Farmer H was closing up the package of buns. Dipping his hand into a big bag of Ruffles potato chips.

"Did you even wash your hands? I don't think so. And you just carried the dog back in."

"I washed them!"

"When?"

"Just now. When I came back. In my bathroom."

"You did not! No way did you walk all the way into the bathroom to wash your hands. And there's no paper towel here from you washing them at the sink."

"Whatever..."

Yeah. No way. I did not hear Farmer H walking to the other bathroom. I just heard the kitchen door, and the laundry room door. Then the soda opening. And came out and caught him with the buns. I might have believed him if he said he washed them at the kitchen sink, and dried his hands on his pants. But he didn't plan ahead with a logical lie.

That's how to catch a liar. Too much embellishment upon interrogation.

The Auto Miser

We went to the casino on Thursday, with Farmer H behind the wheel of A-Cad. Riding with Farmer H is always an adventure. His sweaving was tolerable this time. Only a few strays into the wake-up bumps on the highway, only a few drifts into the other lane.

My main issue this trip was FREEZING. It was an overcast day, 46 degrees when we left the Mansion. Temps would be climbing into the 70s, but I know the casino is always cold, so I wore a sweatshirt over my regular gambling uniform pink plaid shirt. The temp on both dual controls in A-Cad were set at 74. This would probably be fine, IF there was any air blowing that heat around.

I tried to hold my tongue, for The Pony's sake, who doesn't like listening to our squabbles. You'd think a simple request for heat would be met with the blower being turned on. Problem solved. But no. Not when the driver is Farmer H, Auto Miser.

We traveled the county blacktop highway for about 30 miles. Got our McDonald's breakfast at the drive-thru, and got on the interstate highway. After Farmer H had consumed his Sausage, Egg, and Cheese McMuffin, I dared mention that I was cold. Farmer H reached over and set my control to 80 degrees.

"That might work, if any air was flowing. It's not."

Farmer H put his hand up to my center vent. "It's blowing."

I put my hand up to my side vent. Nothing. I turned the dial. Nothing.

"That vent is closed. No wonder you're not getting anything."

"I just closed it. Trying to see if it had been closed, and I could open it."

"It's on."

"No. It's NOT on. I could turn my side up to 100, and I still wouldn't get any warm air. Because you always put it on AUTO, and say it works automatically. That's all you ever talk about! AUTO, AUTO, AUTO! If the fan isn't on, the air doesn't move!"

Farmer H reached over and tried to set my contol on 100. The highest it went was 90. He left it there, and held his hand to my center vent again. There was no change. Farmer H cranked the dial on the fan, to put it on the highest setting. Warm air started blowing out the vent. I turned my control back down to 80. 

"You don't have to crank it up so much. My point is that you never want to turn on the fan. You think AUTO is actually doing something, but it's not!"

Farmer H turned it down to medium. "You're a big girl. You can operate the heat."

Yeah, right. In the past, this results with a heavy sigh, or vocal objection from Farmer H. About AUTO! AUTO will keep the temperature at what it's set for! Miraculously! Without any air moving at all!

Anyhoo... at least I was finally warm. But then we entered a brief shower. Light rain. Farmer H finally turned on the windshield wipers. On the lowest setting. So I endured a watery windshield with a distorted view, then a swipe that smeared dust. I didn't even bother to give my opinion of THAT situation. Nor when we got back home, and I saw how deflated A-Cad's tires were.

I don't know what the deal is with Farmer H. He acts like it costs money to turn on the fan to blow the heat, and to run the windshield wipers faster, and to put air in the tires so they're at the proper inflation! AND like such an imagined charge would come out of HIS pocket!

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.