Cheap Insurance

I’m glad that I chose to file the claim under my own car insurance for the accident I was involved in Monday one week ago. An old man in a small red pick-up truck backed out of a handicapped slot in the Wal-Mart parking lot and into the front of my car. He was parked in the slot closest to the front entrance of the store and as I nosed my car into the exit lane, he backed out. I only had time to hit the brakes before his rear bumper hit the front right corner of my car. Because the bumper of his truck was higher than mine, his vehicle slid up damaging my bumper, grill, and pushing my headlight and possibly my fender askew.

I drove directly to my insurance and filed a claim. Next I drove to my insurance company’s suggested collision center and had a technician evaluate and photograph my damage. He was able to give me a date to bring my car in for repairs. Since he told me that they would have my car for three days, I knew I would need a rental. Right next door to the collision repair shop was a vehicle rental company. I made a beeline to reserve a vehicle. I was finished with this whirlwind tour in about three hours.

Since then I’ve had the man in the truck’s insurance company call me. They did say that the man said he was entirely at fault and I courteously made arrangements for their agent to meet me and take photos for their company. She submitted them. She told me if the company hadn’t called my by Monday, to call them. I got a call from the man’s insurance company. They said that they’d evaluated the photos and planned to send a repair check of $1,500.00 to me for my repairs. I about choked. The man at the repair shop said $3,500.00 for the repairs. I told the person who called that my estimate was for quite a bit more. He began by saying if the repair shop found more damage, they could bill them later. I interrupted him by saying that I was already filing the claim under my policy. He sounded irked that I’d not called them to tell them. “You’ll have to contact my insurance company, not me.”

Just so you know, I don’t like the “Flo” television commercials either

 

 

Co-Inky-Dinks

Co-inky-dinks is slang for coincidences; odd things that will occur on happenstance, incidents that randomly seem to mesh together without rhyme or reason. That’s what happened this last Friday, a serendipitous and accidental coupling of events that turned out to be good fortune and a blessing in disguise. The events were clustered around my appointment to get my taxes done. That appointment time was something that would have been difficult to shift or change.

The claims adjuster called to change the time for her to photograph the auto damage from the accident on Monday in the Wal-Mart parking lot. The insurance company that she worked for cancelled one appointment and with the gasoline prices she was trying to consolidate travel time and distance.

We did a little ping pong, back and forth and being the gentle caring person that I am, I added a few other stops on my schedule to make our meeting coincide. I decided to drop off several postcards that my brother-in-law and his wife sent to Retha Morrison and were part of my postcard collection. It would mean more to them than to me. Both Kevin and Beverly were home and we reminisced talking for about half an hour.

I also decided to stop by the Indian Creek Baptist Church Cemetery in Mill Run, Pennsylvania to visit the grave of my wife Cindy. Thursday was nineteen years since her passing. She didn’t like “fake” flowers, but it was too cold to put out live plants. I took along a grapevine cross with just a few fake tulips on it. After placing the cross, I’d planned to eat lunch at Brenda’s restaurant, but they were closed due to a gas leak.

Getting back to the claims adjuster, she had an appointment later in Mill Run, so I thought I could save her time and mileage by not driving to my home. I decided to eat lunch at See-Mor’s Grill in Normalville, Pennsylvania. It was along the road the claims adjuster would take and shorten her trip. I ordered the special NY strip steak, mashed potatoes, gravy, and a salad. I’d just finished when the claims adjuster pulled in. I couldn’t run out, because I had to pay my bill. When I got outside, the adjuster was about to photograph a white car at the Video part of See-Mor’s. The coincidence was that the other car also white and had front end damage. After I caught her attention, she took photos of my vehicle and left.

PS- I do have to write a check to the Infernal Revenue Service.

 

Wood Working

When I see something that I like and think I can make it, I actually will try to make it. Being frugal, I try to do it on the cheap. One thing I don’t like to do is if I make it, I only like to create the prototype. One and done. It’s the challenge of making the pattern and shaping the item that intrigues me. One exception was the Christmas sleds. When I saw a handmade sled decoration and we were financially strapped, I decided to make and give those sleds as Christmas gifts. The sleds measured about 18 inches by 8 inches and were 3.5 inches high. The body of the sled was about 6.5 inches wide and made the perfect place to paint “Merry Christmas” with a winter scenes. I can’t remember what pictures I painted, but everyone said they liked them.

I’ve also made for two of my children a Nativity set and I am working on another for my third child. They’re a bit unconventional. For my daughter Amanda Yoder and her husband Eric, I made the characters Amish. The pieces are painted in traditional colors and the figures have no faces in an Amish doll style. There were several animals as in a traditional Crèche. I can’t remember exactly the number of pieces, but believe there were about 10 or 12.

The second Crèche I made was for my son Andrew and his wife Renee Largent Beck. It was while they were living in Amarillo, Texas. These figurines were in painted western garb. There were almost the same number of figurines, but I believe there was a longhorn cow as well as salesmen representing the Magi bringing gifts. It’s been years since I’ve made them and forgotten exactly what I made. The background manger was represented as a livery stable.

I have finally decided that it’s time for my youngest Anna Prinkey and her husband James to have a set. One excuse up to this point was that I’d run out of the wooden ends of fruit boxes I had difficulty finding more. A second excuse was that my table jig saw was out of commission. It would turn on and made a lot of noise, but wouldn’t cut well even after changing blades. Recently I was able to secure more wood and I also bought a new jigsaw for my birthday. Now I have no excuse. I’ve drawn the shapes for the “farm” Nativity on the wood, now I just have to cut them out and paint them. Anna requested the farm theme. PS, the tractor will be painted John Deere green at James’ request.

Chasing my Tail

Sunday and Monday I felt as though I was chasing my tail; small as it is. It seemed like I had a lot of things to do and accomplished very little. Our van ministry had a request for two young ladies to catch a ride for our teen ministry. They were riders in the past, but moved. The drivers for our van are limited and the girls move stretched our capacity to collect them with the other teens. The loop would have been much too wide. Van drivers and assistants already spend an hour and thirty minutes collecting the riders and another hour and thirty minutes to ferry them home again. Two extra passengers would have added twenty minutes more onto the routes. Van workers are volunteers and to ask more was out of the question. Our assistant pastor and I rubbed heads trying to solve the problem. We were finally able to find someone to collect them for one night. The problem still isn’t solved, but we kicked the can down the road.

Monday I had some things to drop off for my daughter. While I was out, I decided to grab a few groceries. Because of the wide variety of items I needed, I went to Wal-Mart figuring I could get everything with one stop, simple right? Not quite. As I was driving away turning down the lane in the parking lot, a man backed his truck out of a handicapped slot and into the front of my car. I wasn’t injured, but it did shake me up. After exchanging the information, I drove to my nearby insurance agency and began the process of placing a claim. It also allowed me to settle my nerves for a few moments. The collision and body shop I was planning on using was near as well and headed there next. I was fortunate. The gentleman said that they usually only accept appointments, but he wasn’t busy at the moment and obliged me with an estimate and taking photographs. He gave me a date to return, saying that they would be keeping my car for three days.

Once that was finished, I visited the car rental place. I already knew that I would need a vehicle. My schedule doesn’t allow me to be a stay-at-home hermit for three days. After nearly three hours, I finally made it home. I was tired and worn out and didn’t do my daily walk. Tuesday I walked for 45 minutes, hopefully to get back on schedule.

 

Something to Dye For

I am not a clothes horse nor am I vain person, but when I worked at Frick Hospital in Mt. Pleasant, Pennsylvania I was given a dress code. I was to wear dress slacks, button down shirt, and a neck tie. Over the years I bought dark blue to wear in the winter and tan slacks for the summer. The dark blue slacks were less likely to show dirt from the slush and splash of ashes and grit. I liked lighter colors when spring rolled around after wearing winter colors. I already owned several ties. Sometimes by a few more, especially ties with a holiday theme. Frugal me, ties I purchased were usually from thrift shops or yard sales. As my fellow workers saw my ties some people would give more to me. One switchboard lady had a neck tie made for me from one of her blouses, but that’s a story I’ve shared before.

Because my hair was sandy colored my whiskers have always been red. When I was stationed in Iceland as a corpsman in the United States Navy I was able to grow a full beard and mingle with the Icelandic people unrecognized as an outsider. I kept the beard when I was discharged from the Navy and started college to pursue a career in nursing. I probably wouldn’t have shaved then, but for the constant haranguing from my mom Sybil Miner Beck. She fussed every time she saw me. I was living at home at the time. She said that I made her feel old. When I shaved it off, it took her two weeks to notice that it was gone. She didn’t believe me until my dad Edson Carl Beck corroborated my story.

So where does the dying part of the tale begin? The first happened when I was in nursing school and my hair became grossly soiled with blood from a truck driver patient. My uniform and hair were thick with clots of blood. I took some hydrogen peroxide to soak my uniform. When the clots were clinging to my hair, I used some peroxide with the shampoo. The clots came out, but it also brought out the red highlights in my hair. I’ve also told this detailed tale in past stories.

I dyed the second time when I worked at Frick. I wore a red goatee beard. As I aged and gray crept into my head, it also began to display itself in my beard, but only at the corners of my mouth. When I began to look like a cartoon fox with wide jowls of white against the red, I had two choices, to shave it off completely or to hide the encroaching age. I dyed it for about a year until the gray won the war.