Well that was (not) fun.

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When your roof is leaking in the middle of a Maine winter and you have no idea why…. there’s really only one solution.

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You chip the ice and snow from around the door, set up a ladder….

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Climb up on the roof where you have to chip away more snow and ice…

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And lay a giant ass tarp. ( We’ll be the envy of all our neighbors now, so stylish! ) Then if you’re my husband, you leave a large part of it flapping in the corner.

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What?

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With a storm moving in, I had to fight him to secure the damn thing before it blew halfway to the next county.

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One little string, through one little grommet was all he would do.

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The snow came, turned to rain and miraculously the roof didn’t leak. But we’re due for strong winds in a few days so things are apt get interesting.

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Pandemic humor.

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Because Covid isn’t funny… but we still need to laugh.

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Guess the conspiracy theorists were right after all.

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For anyone who has ever been owned by a cat, you know this is true.

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If only…

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Geesh. How bad do you suppose it has to get?

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It’s been almost a year since we traveled.

A year! That just doesn’t seem possible.

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Okay, on second thought ….I guess we don’t have it so bad after all.

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Time Traveler Part five

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I started it… and I’m entirely too anal not to finish it.

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Skimming this section of words added to the dictionary in the year of my birth made me chortle.

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Pogonophoran?

I admit I had to look that up, and now I’m quite sorry I did.

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That’s the stuff of nightmares right there.

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Ska and snarf. Thank you Time Traveler for two excellent Scrabble words with which to whip my husband this weekend.

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But… support hose! Jesus. Are we really that old? Let’s take a test.

Does shirtless Ryan Gosling still get your motor running?

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Nope, not too old.

😉

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Thwap.

While I knew this word described a slapping sound, in the interest of finding the correct definition for my readers I searched the web.

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You can thank me later.

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Dudley update.

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It took almost 3 weeks, but our new boy is settling in nicely and less skittish every day.

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Loud noises like the snow plow still send him under the bed … and the jury is still out on exterior wonders. He spied wild turkeys in the backyard the other day and growled from under the couch for 5 minutes straight.

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But he’s learning to trust us and coming out of his shell. Toys help, and I’ve retrieved that fuzzy ball from under the furniture enough times to require another visit to the orthopedist.

I think it’s safe to say I’m in love.

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Even my girlfriend recognized how much having a little guy around the house again means and sent a congratulations card.

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Dudley loves his squeaky mouse, but not when we wave the stick…. so I rigged up a do it yourself playground.

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I’m sure he’s grateful, though he doesn’t look it.

It should be noted that while I love dogs and all their slobbering appreciation? There’s something about the utter disdain cats show their humans which speaks to me.

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Of icicles, shots and cats.

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Our resident projectile has melted halfway, split and refrozen.

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47 inches and still anxiously awaiting an unsuspecting red squirrel to wander by.

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In other news…. my husband received his first Covid vaccine shot this week. Yay! No side effects other than a slightly sore arm for a day or two, though we’ve heard most people are experiencing flu like symptoms after the second shot.

Shots.

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Sorry, that’s where my mind went.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is starting to get used to having his picture taken.

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But that doesn’t mean he enjoys it.

Yikes. If looks could kill…

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Love was in the air.

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A rather tardy Valentines Day post.

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A bouquet of flowers was delivered that morning….

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And while I don’t think it was our local florist’s best work, the sentiment remained steadfast.

Early afternoon found us out in the barn and back at the Scrabble board.

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Although the way it started reminded me a little too much of Bill and Monica.

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Did I win?

Such a silly question.

Unbeknownst to my husband, I’d made early evening reservations at one of his favorite restaurants and before the place got too crowded, we slipped in for a glorious meal.

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Long stemmed red roses were given to ladies upon entry… and petals were scattered everywhere. On the floor, on the window sills, on the chairs…..

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Even under the beer taps.

We settled happily at the bar (the husband’s preferred spot because one of the bartenders was a Marine which can lead to hours long conversations) and I tucked into a few delightful Rum Punches. We had appetizers that I forgot to photograph… garlic Parmesan wings for the husband, creamy clam chowder for me… and were awaiting our meals when this older couple sat down across from us.

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In case you can’t see it, the man was wearing a Marine Corps tee shirt. It was at that moment I knew I was doomed.

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Like recognizes like… and within minutes the gentleman uttered the words I never want to hear on Valentines Day.

Semper Fi.

My husband bought them a round of drinks. They bought us a round of drinks. Military stories were traded across the bar….and by the time our lovely meals arrived?

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Filet Oscar with fresh lobster, roasted fingerling potatoes and grilled asparagus for the husband.

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Filet au Poivre with cremini mushroom brandied cream sauce, roasted fingerling potatoes and grilled asparagus for me…

I’d lost him.

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And ended up eating most of my meal alone.

So when I said love was in the air?

Apparently I was talking about the Corps.

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The March squirrel.

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It’s March first…. and that means it’s time for a new calendar squirrel.

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This month we see the little red devil has loaded up the kids and taken to the road.

Let it be known – I will gladly purchase a Barbie recreational vehicle if our furry red rodent from Hell will hit the highway. Heck, I’ll fill the damn thing with nuts if that’s what it takes for her to vacate the premises.

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Look, it even has a pool. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the little bitch will drown.

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Look who’s back.

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I went out to the mailbox the other day, battling a fierce wind and falling snow, and saw paw prints. This isn’t unusual at our house, critters visit on a daily basis. But when I came back in the house and heard a cry outside, I knew.

The lovely stray cat we’d taken in, fallen in love with and then had to return to his owners? Was back.

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He was soaking wet, shivering and skittish…. but I managed to lure him into the barn with a bowl of food.

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The poor little guy. What the hell! Why was he out in the cold again?

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After two full tins of Fancy Feast, he jumped up on the pool table….

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And took a bath with the heat blowing straight on him.

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I left him warm, fed and comfortable…. and headed into the house to call his owner and rip her a new one.

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One not so polite phone call later she showed up with a carrier and swore she made a vet appointment for him to be neutered next week and has done her best to keep him in the house. But she also told me her husband opened the bedroom window a crack and the cat escaped. (Open window, with no screen, in Maine, in February? Not likely) She said he’d only been gone for an hour but our house is over a mile away so I doubt that too.

I swear if we hadn’t adopted Dudley…. I would have just kept him this time.

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Because everyone needs a hobby.

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We have wild turkeys that visit our backyard bird feeders to scrounge what’s fallen on the ground.

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We’ve had flocks for decades and it’s never been an issue. They’re goofy…. and honestly, I find them quite comical to watch. But this past year, in which my husband has been home 24/7 hogging all the bandwidth teleworking… he’s taken an interest in feeding the birds.

The man who used to complain I bought too much seed and spent too much money on suet nuggets now glares at me if the 50lb pound bag falls below a quarter. And since he gets up at an unfathomable time of the morning ( pre sunrise people… WTF? ) he’s usually the first one out the door to fill the feeders.

If the turkeys visit in the spring, summer or fall? Fine. But in the winter their prodigious piles of poo land on snow and ice which is not nearly as absorbent as dirt and well…. let’s just say Tiny Tim isn’t going to be singing about tiptoeing through that anytime soon.

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Hence the never ending battle my extremely stubborn husband wages on a daily basis.

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This will go on for hours.

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Even when he’s on the phone for work dealing with a man in violation of FAA regulations.

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He chases them, they run to the edge of the property line and wait for him to go back in the house, they return, he chases them…etc, etc, etc.

If you think you’ve never met anyone more stubborn than a retired Marine? You’ve never met a Maine wild turkey.

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The funniest part of his new hobby? As soon as he gives up and goes back in the office….

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The turkeys call in reinforcements and descend en masse. He chased a dozen…. 26 came back.

And so it goes.

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Shame on you.

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If you’re not watching this…

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I have two things to say:

Why the Hell not?

And

You should be. (Because you really should.)

Equal parts food…

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Stunning scenery…..

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And history…..

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Not to mention Tucci’s droll wit… (Do you know he broke the internet with a cocktail? My kind of guy. ) it really is a wonderful show.

So what are you waiting for?

Sunday 9:00pm on CNN.

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