01/31/06 to 02/02/06
We were watching Survivor tonight and the girl said something about how it was
so hard because it was emotionally and physically strenuous.  Shoot!  We've
done Panama, it was a piece of cake compared to trying to move to rural Texas!!

We got our electricity up, no problem.  Then the well guy came.  Before he even
started digging he tried to talk me out of it.  Said no one around us had wells, we
were in a dry area.  I had witched a few spots and had him check them, and he
agreed that there was water under them, and he started drilling on the strongest
point.  We expected an auger type drill, but this is like an air pressured drill, so
the dirt is blown up and out of the hole in a fine dust.  It was pretty.  All different
colors, red, yellow, orange, green, blue, purple, grey, black, white, brown.  When
we hit the grey layer at 72 feet, he said it wasn't good.  There was even some
coal in it.  We had agreed to go to 100 feet, but he threw in another 20 feet for
free, "so you won't have go to bed wondering what would have happened if you
had gone another 20 feet."  Both neighbors came over to see how we had done
with the drilling.  Guess they just wanted to see a grown woman cry.  No, I didn't
really cry.  Anyway, I was all set to drill three holes, but it was 5:30, and the well
guy went home.  I even dreamed where the water would be, and was all geared
up to try again the next morning.   However, the neighbors, my husband, and
even the well guy kept trying to talk me out of it.  They all are pushing for using the
water out of our tank (pond.)  Yuck!  I'm getting over the grossness.  I guess that's
where some cities get their water--out of lakes--ours is just a smaller version.  
But, in order to use it, we will have to dig it deeper and get it all set up with filters
and pumps and stuff.  In the meantime, we will need to haul water in.  So, I filled
up 5 gallon buckets with the fine dust they didn't get packed back into our 120
foot deep dry hole.  This way I can use it to make a nice soft (expensive) base for
our poly tank.  I took a picture of it so you could see all the colors.
So, you're thinking that the only thing that makes us unlucky is the dry hole we dug.  
Well, you're wrong.  Today, 2-2, we drove to San Angelo to shop for a car for me,
and to get our house plans drawn up.  It seems all the cars in Texas are
overpriced.  They all have extremely high miles, since everything in Texas is so far
apart I guess.  Texas is also where everyone came to buy cars after Katrina.  And
on top of everything else, it's income tax season, so everyone has been buying up
the cheap cars.  Finally I found a car that I fell in love with, even though it was
$1500 more than what I wanted to spend.  After much deliberation, we decided to
buy it.  I will need a car if I ever manage to get a job, and even though it seems
impossible to get a decent job down here, I'm still looking.  
We left the car lot in my new ride, and got no further than 3 miles away when the
damn thing died.  I had test driven it and everything, no problems.  Less than three
miles after signing all the paperwork and it's dead.  How is that for lucky?  I called
the guy, and he showed up with a can of gas, even though I told him that was NOT
the problem.  It started up again, but I didn't get the half a block to the gas station
before it died again.  So the salesman called his tow truck and had it towed back
to the lot.  Here is where I didn't have my camera.  My Aunt told me that she never
can believe my stories, but then she scrolls down and sees a picture to prove it.  I
figured this was going to be one of those unbelievable stories.  I was so upset, but
wanted a picture so bad of my brand new (crappy used) car, with my temp tags
with my name on them, getting winched up onto a tow truck.  I have been carrying
the camera everywhere, and even had it with us today, but had left it in the truck.  
So, I had to resort to taking a picture on Richard's cell phone, so please excuse
the fuzzy quality.
Well, the salesman drove us back to the lot, stopping at O'Reilly's on the way to
buy a fuel filter.  He put it on, had his son drive it, and told me it was fixed.  
Before he sent us off again, he mentioned how he thought I was joking when I
called him, after all the bad jokes Richard had been telling the whole time I was
trying to make a deal on the car.  He almost didn't come get us.  We'll just start
calling Richard "The Boy Who Cried Wolf."  Anyway, off we went again, and
made it about 5 miles when it died again.  This time the sales guy came with
his wife, and he drove it back.  So, we're unlucky that my brand new car doesn't
drive, but we were at least lucky enough that the salesman will let us out of the
deal.  I already fell in love with the stupid car though, and I still want it, so if he
can fix it, we'll see.  At this point, I think he thinks I just can't drive a stick or
something.  Of course, San Angelo is only 70 long miles away, so going back
to test drive it again doesn't sound very appealing.  I had already called and put
insurance on it and everything.  
Anyway, we were also in San Angelo to talk to a builder who supposedly builds
in San Angelo, then transports the house to your land.  But, since we can't
afford such luxury, we just wanted to get them to frame up some walls and
trusses and floor joists and ship them to us, so we can do the rest.  They won't
do it, they want the whole deal, so we're back on the hunt.  So, let's recap.  
What did we accomplish today?  Oh, right, we put about 160 miles on the truck
at 8 miles per gallon.