After going through three sponge mops (2 dollar store and one good one), two pairs of rubber gloves, we broke out the power scrubber. Kudos to Black & Decker. Should have used that first. Held vertically, it is a little heavy and unwieldy. Yes, James, I did try it. James also laid in a supply of automotive cleaners, cleaning equipment, and heavy-duty mops. Can't handle the mop; too big for my little hands. Never thought about checking out the auto section for cleaners and equipment. Makes sense.
Brother also presented me with a super-duper blower/mulcher, everything I need to tidy up the yard machine as a house-warming present. He took a break from the inside and cleaned out the garage. Remember I said it was chock full of fretwork, columns, etc.? Well, it was full of 14 years of dirt, leaves, grass clippings, and everything else, as well. That was last on my list. When he finished, he had turned a completely different color. His hair was sandy, his body was too. Should've taken a picture as blackmail. Revenge was his, however, when he called me over and told me to take a look at the ground beside the garage. I had been inside and admired the way he had cleaned it out. Couldn't figure out what I was supposed to see. I soon realized, however, that the stick was not a stick but a SNAKE! Talking about back pedaling! I was moving fast! Should've had a picture of that one, too.
We asked the gentleman next door what kind of snake it was. A corn snake or rat snake. Seems they are interchangeable. Regardless, he won't be any help because he doesn't like snakes either. Great. First, I've got these hairy, toothy, mini-behemoths in the yard; now I have a snake. What else will take up residence?
Still waiting for the plumber to call. Mr. Jack has been by and is somewhat perturbed that he hasn't called either or us, especially him since he gives him a lot of work. Says he's going past his house; he knows where he lives. Plumber called later that afternoon to say that he had been sick and was just getting around to returning calls. Here comes Mr. Jack. I relay the phone call. "Nobody cares whether he's sick; everybody has problems. Even if he was sick, he could've returned a phone call." Point.
Glass company from Covington is supposed to replace the pane at the front door. The one I broke on the day of settlement. Call to find out where they are. Told they are running late and will be by around 2 p.m. Fine. Brother and I can walk to the bank and I can introduce him to the folks at Jennings Realty.
I'm becoming a bona-fide Riplian. I'm opening an account in town. Naturally, I'm entrusting my funds to Mr. Fitzhugh, who made a point of stopping to welcome me to town. Found out he's been affiliated with the bank for about 60 years. Now Chairman, he and his family own 90% of the stock. His son is CEO.
I've never been in a bank where people are greeted by name as they come through the door. Hi, Kathy. Hi, Linda. Get out! When is the last time you were greeted by name by the teller? Must be something in the water. And before you get the wrong impression, it is not a one-building business. They've got branches all over the town. No reason for you not to do business with them; they are out to get your money.
As we're leaving, my brother tells me the glass people are installing glass at the bank. Catch up with them at the truck. Yep, they came to the house first and no one was home. Well, golly, you said 2 p.m. They came back after they completed the bank's job. Agreed to come back and cut the broken pane to fit the missing panes in the garage. Also ran into Mr. Jack in the square. He's been past Karl's and chewed him a new one. Karl is to be by the next morning. Water meter's running. Water is still running outside as well. Ka-ching!!!
Someone's yelling "yoo hoo." It's not my brother. We've agreed that an intercom is in order. Well, look-a-here, folks have come in the back door. Too many doors. My friends at the realtor's office have come to inspect. Thank God the rest of the furniture has come in. My brother is busy scrubbing his walls. At least one room is in order. Mine looks like gunga din along with the others in the house. Well, what did they expect?
We decide we need to take a break. All work and no fun doesn't cut it. Down Rte. 51 we go. Mississippi-bound. Yep, that's right, Tunica, here we come. Casinos. Bright lights. Slot machines. Hot damn! Route took us through Memphis. Finally, I'm seeing something of the city I was trying to move to. Maybe I'll get back to sight-see one day. In the meantime, we oohed at the pyramid, Beale Street, the Peabody Hotel (have got to see the ducks), trolley, horse-drawn carriage. Not stopping except for red lights. The casino is calling.
From a distance, the skyline looks like Atlantic City. As you get closer you see that the resorts are actually spread out and not within walking distance of each other. Excitement is rising. Turn in the first one--Bally's. Not a good choice. The machines weren't kind to the kid but she was able to continue playing for a little while. And, she wasn't stupid. Didn't try to put all her money in their bank. She has a roof to pay for. Brother discovers the penny machines are dinging all over the place. Heck, pennies spend. Why not? Man next to me was ringing the machine's bell constantly for big figures. Me? 5, 15, 20 credits were the best I could do. Time to head for the car. Ripley is about 90 minutes away. We didn't break the bank but had fun. Necessary when you're facing the mammoth cleaning job at Serendipity.
Yep, Serendipity is the name I've chosen for the homestead. I always thought the word related to happiness; however, I learned that it means "by chance" or "an accidental discovery." Dictionary.com says: "The word serendipity was formed by English author Horace Walpole (1717-1797) from Serendip (also Serendib), an old name for Sri Lanka, in reference to a Persian tale, The Three Princes of Serendip, whose heroes "discovered, quite unexpectedly, great and wonderful good in the most unlikely of situations, places and people." How appropriate.