Posts Tagged ‘taxes’

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March 30th, 2017 Posted 8:19 am

4722837-An-adding-machine-or-calculator-with-adding-machine-tape-or-paper-and-tax-forms-Stock-Photo

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Posted in Chet The Dog

Tonight

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September 24th, 2012 Posted 8:31 am

At 7 PM up in north country: Spence at White Birch Books in North Conway, NH – a state with no state tax. What are the others?

http://whitebirchbooks.com/

Welcome Aspen & Miles, sleepy dude, Shiner.

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Mr. Singh

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April 15th, 2009 Posted 7:39 am

The tax numbers didn’t work, so we had to visit Mr. Singh. Have I mentioned Mr. Singh? Bernie has a watch that belonged to his grandfather. Not Mr. Singh’s grandfather – Bernie’s. Forget about Mr. Singh’s grandfather. Bernie’s grandfather had a ranch right where we live now on Mesquite Road, but way bigger, going on and on. The watch stays in the safe until our finances get really messy. Then we take it to Mr. Singh.

“Ah, Bernie and Chet,” said Mr. Singh. “What  a busy year I am having, and this is the busiest day in it.” He took the watch. “My very favorite timepiece – I would love to take it to Antiques Roadshow. Will they ever come to the Valley?”

“Don’t know,” Bernie said. “But you’d be a star.”

Mr. Singh gave a shy smile. I like that shy human smile, eyes looking down, feet shuffling. He handed over some money. “Time for a bite or two of curried goat, if I happened to have some warming in the back?”

If he happened to have some warming – that was a good one. I’d smelled that curried goat while we were pulling into Mr. Singh’s parking lot. I headed toward the back of Mr. Singh’s shop, trying hard not to run.

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Taxes

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April 14th, 2009 Posted 8:06 am

What are taxes, exactly? Whatever they are’s got Bernie in a not-too-good mood. He’s at his desk in the office, papers all over the place, some fluttering down toward me, lying under the desk. I chewed on one or two, not very tasty. Bernie’s got ink on his chin. “These numbers won’t work,” he keeps saying.

Can’t help you there. 

“We need more deductions, Chet. But what? What can we deduct?”

Deductions – a new one on me. More papers fluttered down. After a while, Bernie sighed and said, “Looks like we have to visit Mr. Singh.” I got right up. Love Mr. Singh, and I hadn’t tasted that curried goat of his in too long. Taxes turned out to be great.

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The Books



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