The Last Outpost

In spite of it being a bit on the chilly side this morning, I dare say nearly our entire day's weather couldn't have been more pleasing, and of course yours truly was taking every advantage he could of it while outdoors.

My first Sunday morning duty was to head back to my darkened corner and begin my contemplative prayer session which was once again, another remarkable experience to where I was somewhat wishing I could remain there for an extended period of time, but of course there were other chores already on my plate. Just as I was finishing up, I recalled the moment I decided I was time to get back into contemplative prayer, which was when the churches basically closed their doors due to the raging pandemic, and we all know it's been over three years already.

Since I hadn't spoken to my dear friend in a number of days, I decided to give her a call, just so we could fill each other in on the recent happenings in our lives. Somehow we got on the subject of the various ways in which some in our aging general public try to keep their assets from getting into the hands of the Federal Government should they end up in a nursing home for an extended period of time.

I shared a few of the many examples I was made aware of over these long years, and especially one family who did everything they could to 'hide' a vested interest a deceased family member had in some farmland in our area. Well, as much as they tried to conceal that fact, Iowa Recovery Program found out about it and went after the descendant's estate, and only because that person was on Medicaid for a number of years before death. I never bothered to ask how much Iowa Recovery Program agreed to settle for, but I'm sure it was a hefty amount.

One of the things I discovered after my mother passed, was the funeral home's duty to supply a government entity with my mother's social security number, just to see if she owed them money, and especially if she happened to be on Medicaid, which she wasn't.

Some, place their real estate in life estates for their children, but that can also be a problem because there's a schedule the Federal Government uses which calculates a given percentage of value at death, based on the number of years the property was in a life estate, so say a person who's not too many years away from being placed in a nursing home, suddenly decides to place his or her property in a life estate, there'll likely be a higher percent of recovery out of it should that person have to go on Medicaid. Considering the monthly expenses charged by nursing homes, it doesn't take long for their cash reserves to run dry, and when they do, all eyes will be focused on their real estate assets. As far as I know, their homes are not forced sales at the time, but instead they're plugged into Medicaid for the remainder of their lives. But, after death, that's when Iowa Recovery Program gets involved. Keep in mind, every State has similar departments which oversee the recovery of Medicaid health care funds that were paid out. Enough said.

My organ and piano playing over at First Congregational Church went better than I expected, and once again, the participants clapped after I finished playing the prelude.? My biggest concern was getting thru that 'Bachish" piece, and for whatever reason, it sounded just fine, but the closing hymn was one I hadn't played for the public on a organ for close to ten years. It sounded fine, but since it was written for piano, I have to be sure and make some 'pedal' notations on the sheet music, just so it doesn't sound as muddy as it did today. Oh, and the carrot cake was very well received to the point there were people taking two pieces, which would've left some without. Of course it just happened to be a Sunday where there were likely twice as many people in attendance. Wow.

With the remainder of my day free, I headed back to getting some additional yard work done, and while toiling away, I found myself having a few comical yet wicked thoughts regarding things that are said and done here in Mason City which I refer to as 'The outpost before you enter the People's Republic of Minnesota'. Hee...hee!

Ok, so here goes with my thoughts today. For whatever reason, these are some of the things you'll see and hear in our city which will be a confirmation you're in 'The last outpost.'

If you should happened to be standing at the counter of our Treasurer's Office where one can see all the employees are females, but for some reason a woman walks up and asks, "Do you guys take a credit card?" Yup, you're in the last outpost.

While waiting for a red light at an intersection, you happen to notice a twenty-something young man walking the crosswalk who's wearing bedroom slippers with socks pulled almost up to his knees. Yes, it's another clear sign you're in the last outpost.

While browsing items on a shelf at a groceteria, you happen to glance in the direction of someone with a cart moving toward you, but you have to turn quickly away because you just happened to notice an exceptionally abdominous male with a very tight t-shirt on which caused his man boobs to be all the more pronounced. Yup. You're in the last outpost.

If you should happen to drop by one of our many taverns, you many notice that the entire crowd of patrons likely have enough teeth left to fill but one person's mouth. Ouch! You're in the last outpost.

Should you happen to be driving down a highway and notice a sky-walk reaching across it, but no building attached on the other side. For sure, you're in the last outpost.

If during the summer months you happen to see a hefty guy with over-sized bib overalls on with their legs cut off at the knees which makes him look like the bird man, you got it right, you'll be seeing it right here in the last outpost.

Now if you think I'm being wickedly funny, let me know and I'll add a few more from time to time. In these troubling times, a person's just gotta have fun once in a while. Right?

Tonight's One-liner is: Our deeds determine us, as much as we determine our deeds.

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