Rumble Averted By Fowl Mouths

This morning (and by that I mean around 11:00) The Pony and I were moving BBQ leftovers from the BARn FRIG to the Mansion FRIG II after feeding the solar car team last night. Okay, The Pony was moving most of the leftovers. I just went in the BARn and repackaged them and told him where to put them and helped him figure out how T-Hoe's fold-down seat worked. Heaven help us if that boy is steered into a mechanical engineering field.

As The Pony carried stuff into the Mansion's front door, while Jack laid on his back and watched, I sat in T-Hoe in the front yard. That's what's great about the country. It's one great big driveway. While whiling away fives of minutes, I remembered that I needed to find out about my 2nd pair of glasses. I was headed out to the bank, which is pretty close to the eye doc. I consulted my estranged BFF Google for the office phone number. Which was really kind of hard, looking up a number to find out about my new glasses when I wasn't wearing any glasses.

"Hello? This is Mrs. Hillbilly Mom. I was there on July 12th, for an exam, and I ordered two pairs of glasses. I paid for everything that day. You said they would be here in two weeks. It's been THREE weeks, and I still don't have my second pair of glasses."

"Oh, my. Let me look. Hm...I don't see them. Uh. Let me look in my other magic file. I'm going to put you on hold for a minute, okay?"

BOOM! I was on hold before I could agree or disagree. But I didn't make a stink, because my farmyard animals were doing that for me. I could hardly hear her because of the roosters crowing. It doesn't help that we have about a dozen or more. And that they don't seem to understand the concept of SUNRISE. Also, those dang guineas were cackling, and there's nothing quite as annoying as a cackling guinea unless it's a screaming peacock. Which thank-Farmer H we don't have, but we used to live up the block from a backyard full at my $17,000 house.

This putting-on-hold with the music is when they lay the phone down, turn to their co-workers, make that spiral crazy sign by their ear, and badmouth me until they can come back on the line and be civil, after first covering their butt with a tall tale of how my glasses slipped down in between the file cabinet and the counter, or how Mr. Magoo picked them up by mistake and wore them home, and just now brought them back, because he's a really slow driver, that Mr. Magoo.

"Ma'am? I found them. They were right on top!"

Sure they were. What kind of fool did she take me for? If they were in the office, somewhere right on top, somebody would have called to wake me at the crack of 9:00 a.m. like they did with my first pair of glasses, and The Pony's two pairs of glasses. I suspect they'd been sitting there since the day I picked up that first pair, and the girl didn't look thoroughly enough when I told her there should be two.

"That's good. I'm coming out that way. I'll stop by and pick them up."

Seriously. Should a woman have to track down her own glasses? Remember the days when the customer was always right? Or at least the days when the customer was provided the service for which she prepaid, in a timely manner?

Handbaskets, people. Get your handbaskets in order. Get them ON order! From my proposed handbasket factory!