Farmer H Serves Up A Poop-Poop Platter For Breakfast

I wish I had something good to report. But sadly, I fall into the same category as THE NEWS, and there's nothing pleasant here. This has been one of my worst days since I started retirement! Which, in the grand scheme of things, isn't all that bad. Farmer H, decree-er of all opinions of every person everywhere, said it WASN'T my worst day. Because apparently, he determines what I feel.

The morning started at 12:30 p.m., when Farmer H barged through the kitchen door with a handful of papers for me to deal with. Not only to fill out "because you like to do it in your neat handwriting," but also to use to find links on HIPPIE to print out stuff and file stuff. I think Farmer H does not understand that a link printed on a piece of paper can't be followed. Especially when the link looks like this Certificate of Something, without an URL.

I spent 45 minutes searching, and filling in info online, only to have Farmer H to say, "Hold off on that. I may not want to do it." And furthermore instructed me to print out that certificate for him later, when I found the website. But when I did, at 10:15 p.m., it turns out Farmer H can't get such a certificate until he fills out the stuff he told me to delete this morning at 12:55 p.m.

 

I tried to call the hospital about a message that only said, "Please call us." No name or reason. I was put on hold with bad music, so hung up after two minutes, because that's a long distance call accruing charges! I tried on my cell phone, and got put on hold twice more, but my cell phone cut the connection, because everybody knows Mrs. HM can't make a call from her own home.

The house phone rang with a message for Farmer H to call HIS doctor to schedule a test. I hit the SPEAKER button to hear what it was about, but apparently that shuts off the recording of a message. Good thing I wrote down the number as she said it. I texted Farmer H about it, and he CAME BACK IN THE MANSION to make his call, even though he did it on his cell phone, which allowed him to keep a connection. Probably just out of spite to ME, sitting there at the kitchen table where he plopped down.

Anyhoo... I wrote out checks for medical bills for The Pony and Farmer H, and went to the main post office to mail them, stopping on the way at Orb K for scratchers. Except Orb K had orange cones and orange caution tape roping off their whole front sidewalk and part of the parking area. Other cars had parked by them, sticking out into the drive, and I could have, too, but I didn't see a way to get in the door! The whole sidewalk was blocked off, with a guy in an orange vest standing by it, I suppose to tackle people who tried, or perhaps just taking a smoke break.

I left Orb K in a fit of pique, deciding to stop by the School-Turn Casey's. On the lake road there, I got behind a white pickup truck going 15 mph. The speed limit there is 45. There was something in small print on the tailgate near the bumper. I guess it was telling me why the truck went slow, but it was too small for me to read without tailgating. Too bad the car that flew up behind me wasn't behind that truck, because HE could have read it for me. He must have been going 90 when he came up on me. So close that I couldn't see the whole hood of his car, just the windshield, in my rearview mirror. I don't know where he thought I was going, with a truck in front of me. I know he saw it, because he whipped out twice like he was going to pass, but didn't.

 

Speedy veered off once we hit School-Turn Town. But the weekly semi truck of supplies was parked across all the parking spaces in front of the Casey's, with their metal rolly-bar conveyor thingy blocking the doors. So I went on to the post office, then to the Sis Town Casey's. Where a construction company truck had backed into my preferred parking spot next to the ramp, and another car beside it, with the two drivers shooting the bull and not customerizing. So I had to park at the end, and actually STEP UP and DOWN to get to the sidewalk. Oh, the horror!

 

I picked up Burger King and a chocolate shake to drown my sorrows. Aside from a long wait, that interaction was fairly benign.

On the way home, I had to wait at the low-water bridge, because a 4-wheeler was parked on it talking to a car that was parked on it, next to a guy and gal fishing off the side. Since obviously that bridge was built as a recreation area and not a meant of traversing a waterway.

 

I saw Farmer H on his Gator at the BARn as I passed. But by the time I was on the porch giving the dogs their French bread treat, he was under the porch in the act of getting out the lawnmower. Because he can't spend a freakin' second not being WHERE I AM. 

I finally sat down in my lair with my first food of the day at 4:45 p.m. (not counting the chocolate shake at 4:00). Only to realize that I'd forgotten my ketchup for the fries! Good thing I had three packets laying there from a time they had tossed them in my bag before the great condiment shortage of '21. I also had a little black plastic ramekin (4, actually) from when the Dairy Queen incompetents have two stuck together when handing out the queso cheese sauce with pretzels. So I squeezed the ketchup in there for dipping.

I guess that's the good news. How dare I feel like I had a bad day.

But wait. Right after I ate, The Pony texted that he was leaving work, and he'd be emailing me some forms he needed printed, and also that he'd need to walk me through another site on New Delly, because it required filling in info before printing.

It's 10:41 p.m. as I type this, and he hasn't come down to my lair yet...