Memo From The Desk Of The CEO Of Epic Fails

You may remember that only a couple of days ago, I sang the praises of my new favorite treat, Great Value Raisin Bran.

I figure that a store brand cereal is pretty much the same as any other store brand cereal. Great Value is a product of The Devil's Playground. But I wasn't going there today. So I just knew that the Save A Lot brand, Kiggins Raisin Bran, would be equally delicious. After all, I used to buy cereal for Genius and The Pony there. They were fans of the Circus O's, a low-cost version of Froot Loops.

Many times, the store brand product is exactly the same as the brand name product. Even made in the same factory, but with different packaging and marketing. Or two different store brands might be the same. Not so with this raisin bran!

Isn't that the SADDEST BOWL OF RAISIN BRAN YOU EVER SAW?

Okay, the Truth in Blogging Law says that I must inform you that there were actually TWO raisins in my bowl of cereal, not one, as pictured. What can I say? I'm a greedy glutton, and ate that other one before snapping the photo. But truth is...there were only TWO raisins in that entire bowl! Too bad there's not a Truth in Cereal Box Pictures Law!

Let me just say that in my Great Value Raisin Bran, each and every bowl was teeming with raisins. From the first serving out of the box to the last. AND the flakes were thin and crunchy, whereas these in the Kiggins Raisin Bran were thicker and chewier. They had the consistency of recycled paper made as a science project by one of my 7th graders at Steelville Middle School back in the early '90s. Not that I tasted the paper or anything.

I feel so CHEATED! Even posing that last remaining raisin right there in the middle, and then saving it for the last bite, admiring it with each chew, did not make me feel like I enjoyed a healthy taste treat.

Also, I'm no expert on irony...but I DO think it was, perhaps, ironic, that a total stranger stopped me on the cracker aisle at Save A Lot, to ask if I knew where the little boxes of raisins were shelved! Had I only had the hindsight, at the time, to have the foresight to buy some of them, when I stumbled across them under the salsa jars, to make my Kiggins Raisin Bran more palatable.

This is one of the few times that a Save A Lot brand has let me down.

I Really Hope I'm Not THAT Weirdo

This morning I put on the jacket I have hanging over the basement stair rail, to take some stale grease bread out on the porch for Jack. The dogs have been doing without their regular evening snack, due to cold temperatures and early darkness and my intermittent winter driveway walking. Instead, I give them extra cat kibble as I come and go on my way to town for a 44 oz Diet Coke. Oh, believe me, they have adapted. I can't sneak out the kitchen door without them coming running to greet me before I get into the garage.

Farmer H was in the house, and I saw Jack laying by the Gator in the front yard. So I grabbed the foil-covered pizza pan holding bread that I'd soaked in the juices from roast potatoes/carrots/onions with bacon laid on top. Since Farmer H had been wearing a jacket, I figured it was still pretty cool outside. Maybe in the 40s.

I put on the heather jade-green snap-front baseball-style jacket that I wear when I'm out and about, or in the casino where it's always too cold. I drape it over the rail so it's ready when I need it. I don't do anything to get it dirty. Casino smoke makes it stink, but that usually dissipates within a day, even if I don't wash it immediately, what with the wind blowing on it, and just hanging free. It kept the chill off while feeding Jack. Trust me, that's heather jade green, not baby blue!

Farmer H came out, and after calling Juno around for her share, I asked him to dump the remains of some Chex Mix out in the yard for Copper Jack. It was just Cheerios and some almonds. The stuff Farmer H leaves behind. He took that pizza pan, and FLUNG the Chex out into the grass.

"Seriously? I could have done that! I wanted you to tilt the pan and pour it into a pile. Not make him search for each individual Cheerio in the grass."

"He'll eat it. He's a dog."

Yeah. Okay. I guess the excuse for how Farmer H distributed the food is, "He doesn't know any better. He's a man."

Anyhoo...I came back inside and took off my jacket and SAW BROWN STAINS on the upper right front shoulder, and the neck band!

Sweet Gummi Mary! Had I been walking around Walmart like that? Through Country Mart? How long had my jacket been stained? I swear I didn't see it two days ago when I wore it to town. Yesterday I didn't wear it at all, and wished I had, because the wind was cold, even thought the sun was out, with a high in the 50s.

I put it in the washer with a couple of towels. I'm really hoping that I'm not the weirdo people see walking around in stained clothes! Sure, I wear my ratty baby blue sweatshirt. But only around the house! I'd never wear it out in public! I'm hoping I didn't parade around the public in a soiled jacket.

I'm hoping that it was dried muddy footprints, from Jack jumping up on me at the side porch a couple days ago. I remember scolding him. He likes to get his face right up by mine, and try to stick his tongue on my lips. I remember pushing him down and getting him cat kibble when I came back, after setting some bags on the porch chair.

Sure. That was it. My jacket got dirty when I came home, and I didn't go out in it. Yeah. That's gotta be it.

The Newest Treat That Mrs. HM Is Craving

I've re-discovered an old friend in the treat department:

Yeah. How could I forget? I used to have this all the time. And by all the time, I mean every day, for a month or so, until I grew tired of it and moved on to something else.

I don't have it for breakfast. No. I usually don't have breakfast, now that I'm RETIRED! I used to have a bowl of flavored oatmeal made from the packet by adding water and microwaving. That was after I tired of having two mini sausage biscuits. But now, I get up at 9:30, and do my running around, and then have lunch when I get home. That's usually between 1:00 and 2:30.

Anyhoo...I have my Raisin Bran in a small Styrofoam bowl, as my nightly snack. No milk for me. I'm not a fan of milk. I don't even use a spoon. Just eat that Raisin Bran with my fingers, like Chex Mix. It really does look like the picture on the package! No milk, of course. And a different bowl. And I don't have those wheat bran plant thingies in the background. But the cereal looks like that! It's not crushed. It has actual raisins. I think it makes a good snack. Replacing my Gourmet Lollipop, which has become hard to find in flavors I like.

There could be worse things to snack on.

Seriously, I Only Want To Trade A Chicken Or Some Eggs

It may come as no great surprise that Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is back to complain again about modern technology and how it interferes with her bill-paying.

First of all, update on my previous problem with my automatic payments on the disability insurance. I called the automated line for my bank account (the only technology that I look favorably upon) today. It said that TWO stop payment fees of $35 were taken out of my account on the date I called the bank last week, and only ONE was credited back.

Sweet Gummi Mary! How hard is it to not screw up a simple request?

Anyhoo...I decided to check back on that $24.75 fee that was pending from the AD&D insurance, back when I originally called to see why my stop payment from November hadn't been honored. Well. There was NO AUTOMATIC PAYMENT of $24.75 taken out! Not since back in October.

When I had called the AD&D offices (twice, since I had to round up Farmer H to speak to them) last week, they had told us both that we couldn't stop their service this time. That it was too late. Ha ha! I guess the joke's on them, because that payment actually WAS stopped, while it was pending. Even though it cost me $35 to stop a $24.75 payment, that's what I had originally set out to do in November. So right now, everything seems fine.

I'm not holding my breath until April, though. That quarterly payment may rear its head again, and I'll have to renew my efforts.

NOW...today I got my DISH bill. It powers my internet too, you know. It's not just TV. So I'm very careful about it, since I don't want to go without internet. Or TV, of course. DISH has a habit of dragging their feet on the crediting of the payments. Mine is due on the 24th of the month. That's when my internet allotment resets. So I'm quite cognizant of the date. I always check to make sure my payment has been credited. It usually shows up the day before. Maybe two days before, if I'm lucky.

Here's the thing. That bill is mailed out on the 10th. As soon as I get it, I write the check, and put it in the mail the next day, before the mail pickup deadline. At the main branch post office. Last month, I got the bill on the 15th, and sent it right back. Surely it doesn't take 9 days to get there. The Pony Express was faster than that. So obviously, it's gotta be the DISH people taking their own sweet time with paper payments.

No way can I mail that bill tomorrow, the 19th, and expect it to get there and be credited by the 24th. It's possible for a regular letter to make it by then. But not the way DISH does business. I think it's a conspiracy to switch people to automatic withdrawal payments. I'm not doing it! I'll go online and pay by credit card or however I've done it on other such occasions. No way am I calling a real person to make a one-time payment, and let them "mistakenly" switch my billing, like has also happened before.

I just don't have good luck with this automatic payment crap.

Even Steven Owes Jack

The weather here in Hillmomba took a turn for the colder, and Newmentia teachers had a FIVE-DAY WEEKEND! There was really no reason for them to be out Friday. I think it was mostly the light precipitation falling at 5:00 a.m., and an uncertain forecast. But Monday and Tuesday, the roads were very slippery. They were fine today, though, so I was unMansionbound.

I thawed out some ham and beans for our supper Monday and Tuesday. I must say, it was better the second time around. Maybe because I added the big ham bone that I'd also frozen with the leftover beans. Mmm...with Jiffy Corn Muffins, too!

Anyhoo...I had that ham bone waiting to give to the dogs. Or, as it turned out, the DOG. My Sweet, Sweet Juno. I didn't want to give it to them when the weather was really cold, because it would just freeze, and they'd have a ham bonesicle. Today was around 28 degrees when I got back from town. Bright and sunny. I took the trash dumpster to the end of the driveway, and the dogs romped along barking like old times. Even though this was around 1:30, and not a regular evening walk.

When I went back inside, I told Farmer H, who'd said he would wait to carry in groceries if I'd be there within 30 minutes, to toss that bone and some other leftovers to the dogs. Of course he said he would, and then gave me dead silence when asked to repeat the instructions. I know he was just playing The Incompetent Game. Even though he SAID he didn't hear me. Uh huh. He heard the first part just fine, and acknowledged that he would give out the treats.

Anyhoo...I put on my red Crocs and went back outside. Juno was in her house right by the back door. I meant to give her the big part of the ham bone, and Jack the clump of gristle and shredded meat attached to it, but the latter lump stuck to the bone that Juno had already grabbed hold of, so I let her take it into her house.

Jack was nowhere to be seen. He had run off with Copper Jack at the end of the driveway, and I'd heard him whimper as I came back. Juno didn't run to his aid, though, so I figured she understood his language better than I did, and that Copper Jack was not chewing him to bits. With no Jack in sight, I didn't want to stand in the cold holding a plate of leftovers, and I didn't want to take them back inside. Juno had enough to keep her busy for hours.

I walked around to the front porch, and tossed the food onto the area in front of the door. There were three rolls, a corn muffin, some tortilla strips that I'd trimmed off my homemade pinwheels, some gristly ham chunks, and some cheese and chicken that had been trimmed off the pinwheels also. I went back in, but remembered something in T-Hoe that hadn't been carried inside, and went to get it.

Here came Jack, loping up the brick sidewalk by the garage, all happy to see me. I took him around front to show him the treats he was missing. The first thing he took was the corn muffin. Even over the ham/chicken/cheese scraps. That little guy LOVES his corn muffins. He took the whole thing in his mouth and hopped down the steps (in the way only a long little half dachshund/half heeler can do) to the front yard.

As I got to the bottom of the steps by the garage to go get my envelopes left in T-Hoe, I looked left to see Copper Jack running across the front yard, back toward his own house, WITH THE CORN MUFFIN IN HIS MOUTH!

That is SO not fair! At least my little Jack got all the other stuff, I guess. Next time I make corn muffins, he's getting two, and I'm going to sit down and supervise him until they are eaten.

Mrs. Hillbilly Mom, DDS, Hangs Out Her Shingle

When we last convened, I was bemoaning a tongue too big for my mouth. A tongue damaged on a sharp edge of a broken molar. A tongue that silently screamed in pain every time I swallowed.

Well. After a whole day of suffering, not even all that sad that I didn't have my 44 oz Diet Coke, because drinking through a straw was even more painful that sipping from a cup or bottle...I healed myself! Uh huh. After realizing that my nightly aspirin did little for the pain, and an acetaminophen did absolutely nothing for it, and worrying that it may take DAYS to build up a tongue callous, and most certainly not wanting to make a dentist appointment... I took matters into my own hands. The left one, specifically. On the same side as that back molar.

I reached in and felt that sliver of sharp tooth. It has been there all along, ever since I dislodged a temporary crown with a lime Starburst, but I think the big burger at the casino rearranged that enamel particle, so that the sharp edge was more exposed. I could wiggle that shard just a tiny bit. Which gave me hope!

I had some Chex Mix on hand, sitting in a festive snowman-patterned red plastic tub. So I took a small handful. Fingerful, really. A couple of Chex, an almond, and about a third of a pretzel. I actually chewed on the bad tooth side! I normally don't chew over there very often. But I did. It didn't even hurt as much as I imagined. So I thought maybe a part of the almond jammed down on that point of enamel, protecting my tongue. I had a couple more bites. Then I re-examined.

The shard was looser! I wiggled and waggled it. Back and forth. Had another bite of Chex. Repeat. After much stronger efforts at wiggling and waggling, the broken piece of tooth came loose! I'd show it, but I don't think you'd want to see that, and I laid it on a paper plate, and I've already thrown it away. It was really quite smaller than I expected. About the diameter and length of a mechanical pencil lead that breaks off when you're writing all tensed-up.

I am available for private consultations for a reasonable fee. No insurance accepted. Cash or barter only.

Like A Zombiefied St. Bernard

If you are seeking entertainment at the Mansion tonight, folks...abandon hope, all ye who enter here. I got nothin'. Oh, I have somethin'! But it's not worth typing it all out tonight.

We had a glaze of ice and a little snow last night. I would have gone to town for my 44 oz Diet Coke as usual, since nobody bothered to tell me until I was DRESSED AND ON THE WAY OUT THE DOOR that the roads were a little slick. So slick, in fact, that Farmer H, who was unsuspiciously absent until noon:twenty, asked to use T-Hoe for a trip to get de-ionized water for his breather. Uh huh. The very same man who wanted to GET RID of T-Hoe, to save on insurance bills. Wanted to DRIVE my precious T-Hoe on slippery slopes. Not his own Trailblazer, whose 4WD does not work. Nor his Ford F250 Long Bed Club Cab, which has 4WD itself.

So I went without my magical elixir, which is better than risking life and limb, and made do with bottled Diet Coke. Ounces indeterminate right now. Which is possible what has put me in this funk. Or not.

It might have something to do with my tongue, which is too big for my mouth, and hurts severely when I swallow, due to slicing itself on a broken back tooth that has been broken for a while now, and does not hurt in and of itself, but makes life difficult for my tongue, especially when chowing down on a big burger yesterday at the casino.

So that's it for now. I'll be groggily drooling over at my not-so-secret blog, attempting to put out some content. And for blog buddy Sioux: Newmentia had a snow day in place of regularly scheduled MLK Day, which was being used to make up LAST WEEK's snow day. And they're out again tomorrow.

Not that I care...