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Not dead dogs, a motorcycle momma, and New Jersey flashbacks.

28 Comments

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This first picture was on the Facebook page of the Island where I used to live… and it made me laugh.

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It’s from a visiting veterinary service but look, we share a name. Though she definitely wears it better.

Also from the Island, a party invitation.

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The ‘I’m Still Not Dead’ party. Wouldn’t want to miss that.

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Believe it or not this ancient picture is of my husband’s mother on a Harley. That’s her driving the middle one. It was taken in 1944 and she was wearing a custom made white leather jacket.

What a hoot.

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Our lawn is browning in weird spots thanks to the summer drought. His Lordship checked out the dead grass on a recent walk and alerted me to a disturbing fact.

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The woodchucks have dug a burrow under the cement cover to our septic tank access.

This may not end well, for anyone.

🫤

In other news, I’ve discovered a funny Facebook page that reminisces about the good old days in the Garden State and it makes me miss my crazy childhood.

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Jungle Habitat was bizarre. You paid admission and drove through the park in your car. You couldn’t get out and let me tell you…. as I kid? I definitely didn’t want to. I remember ostriches ferociously pecking at our windows, a baboon trying to rip off the windshield wipers and a chimpanzee masturbating on the hood of our station wagon. It was a strange form of family entertainment to say the least.

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Cinnamon crumb coffee cake.

I buy it today, but it never tastes the same.

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Ask me if I’m frustrated. Go on, I dare you.

56 Comments

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The journey toward knee surgery continues. Albeit slowly, like a three legged blind tortoise fighting a headwind.

I swear if I’d known it would take this long I would have started the process last year.

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Three weeks ago I finally saw the Great and Powerful Oz my orthopedist who told me the scheduler would be in touch.

Three.

Weeks.

Ago.

I’ve waited three weeks for someone to call and no, not very patiently. After the first week I called the scheduler, but no one answered. I continued calling through the second week and no one continued to answer. I left messages. Multiple messages. But no one called.

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In the middle of week three, I received a honking folder of information in the mail.

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Filled with pre op tips, pre op instructions…

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Even pre op exercises… for the op that hasn’t been scheduled yet.

Included in the packet was a list of hoops I’ll have to jump through before I finally get my poor aching knee on the table.

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So let me get this straight – I waited 6 months to see an orthopedic PA….who told me all about the surgery and recovery.

Then another month to see the orthopedist… who told me all about the surgery and recovery.

Three weeks after that I get a packet of papers in the mail…. that tells me all about the surgery and recovery.

And now? I have to take a 2 1/2 hour class… so someone can tell me all about the surgery and recovery – followed by a one hour phone call from a nurse…. who will tell me all about the surgery and recovery – ending with a second PA visit… so he can tell me all about the surgery and recovery.

Again.

What. The. Utter. Hell?

I’m not a surgeon, I get it.

But even for a lay person? This seems a trifle redundant.

Not to mention frustrating.

😡

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News you can’t use.

51 Comments

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Because it’s Monday and that’s how we start the week here.

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I’m going to go out on a limb and say it’s because he was born, raised and still lives here… but what do I know?

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Thankfully she didn’t open it.

Ick!

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Best.

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Wedding photos.

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Ever.

💕

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Robots creep me out. Always have, always will.

The robot Olympics were funny because so many of them crashed and burned, but when they all marched in like an invading army? I literally cringed.

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https://youtube.com/shorts/DoGA9K7-p6A?is=KZiOrJ9pwbOzFlCo

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We’ll be sorry. Trust me on this.

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Kudos Australia. Almost every living thing there can kill you already, so I guess nuclear apocalypse isn’t that big a deal.

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Stop it Facebook. Just… stop.

37 Comments

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I’ll be having partial knee replacement sometime in the near future. And yes, I admit I’ve been doing some online research.

That was a mistake.

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Big mistake… because now my algorithms have picked it up and I’m flooded with knee surgery disasters everywhere I look. On Google, in my news feed and on Facebook.

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Especially on Facebook . Every day there’s a new horror story, written or on video.

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This is not what I need to see right now.

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Nope.

She doesn’t look at all happy.

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Good grief. As if I’m not nervous enough, now I have to worry about nausea and not pooping?

I really need to stop reading these things.

🥴

Of course for all the horror stories, there are a few things that make me smile.

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That looks doable.

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I’m going with tennis ball.

The pickle jar and beer mug would just result in crunching and I’ve got enough of that already.

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My normal day right now is between bees! and I can’t stop crying… with occasional bouts of hurts so bad I can’t move. I’m guessing after surgery I’ll have to keep an eye out for bears and ninjas. Though honestly, unconscious sounds preferable.

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Henry the Hawk and a squirrel who knows how to work a pole.

31 Comments

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We have a new backyard visitor who is showing up every day, twice a day.

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He’s a juvenile Coopers Hawk who has discovered our backyard bird feeders.

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We’ve named him Henry and he’s quite content to hang out in the gardens and wait for a meal to fly by.

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He’s young, and his hunting skills need some fine tuning.

Honestly? He misses more often than not.

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But he’s one very chill little dude.

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In other news, we seem to have a squirrel ready for the stripper Olympics.

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I say this because his pole acrobatics are quite impressive.

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That’s a 9.5 right there.

🤣

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Let’s play.

53 Comments

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Time to warm up your memory banks and answer a question.

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My husband and I were married in 1984. We lived in a cheap, fully furnished rental house off base and basically had nothing to our names but the clothes on our back.

So naturally the first thing we did was buy a sexy new sports car.

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A Nissan 280ZX.

Brother, we were styling.

It had removable T Tops which were flashy, but honestly a pain in the *ss as they took up all the room in the tiny hatch space in back. Open roof and grocery shopping at the same time? Not happening.

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But we looked good, so who cared?

I tried searching old photo albums for a picture of us in or beside the car but this is the only one I could find.

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Car butt to the right.

A skinny, big haired ‘80’s me and the hubs on our way to a wedding on the left.

I do love me a man in uniform.

❤️

Your turn.

What were you driving in 1984?

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More maddening maps.

25 Comments

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This first one is mistitled.

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You certainly can name your child after a U.S. state…

But in most cases you probably shouldn’t.

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I’m a solid 20%-er. The service has to be atrocious for me to leave less… though I’ve been known to tip 100% at diners with great wait staff.

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My husband has a childhood friend who can’t speak a sentence without uttering Maine’s favorite, so I won’t argue with this one.

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They should have this map at the dentist’s office that ripped me off for a clearance letter. They were shocked I had all mine.

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I’ve never been, so I can’t comment. Though ‘birds that scream at you’ sounds like an interesting place…

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Damn it.

I just gave myself an ear worm.

😖

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Eerie skies, a plethora of lobster and how you know you’re getting old.

65 Comments

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Now and then, right before sunset in the summer… we have an eerie backyard light.

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Sadly none of those rain clouds dropped anything on us.

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But they made for pretty pictures.

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Now that is a bowl of lobster stew.

No tiny minced pieces or disappointing puree there. No sir.

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Much as I hate to admit it, I’ve finally reached the age where a new sheet of stamps excites me. I may have oohed when I first saw this one.

Sigh.

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I’d live here anyway, but it’s nice to know we have high rankings.

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This is now a skunk water dish.

Other backyard critters need not apply.

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The husband at a yard sale, or more precisely a barn sale.

The barn was filled with rusty old things and he was in heaven.

See the sign posted on that giant cabbage shredder?

He bought the shredder.

😩

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A rainbow, a recipe and Cluck Norris.

36 Comments

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Porch geese have been around for years and women have been dressing them in seasonal costumes equally as long. But a bar in downtown Bath has taken it to the next level.

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Cluck Norris.

Best. Porch. Goose. Name. Ever.

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I’m always saving these lists of helpful hints but rarely try them. Though chalk in the jewelry box sounds easy enough.

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Just sayin’…

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A skunk-less rainbow this time.

😉

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Only in Maine.

Fun fact? The house where I grew up on the Island was built in 1842 and had a large two story garden shed in the back yard. At the rear of the building? A three hole outhouse.

Because togetherness is everything.

🤣

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This was yummy.

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Though I added some sun dried tomatoes and fresh basil. Next time I think I’d half the mozzarella amount or use Parmesan.

Meanwhile in the backyard…

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Someone else is looking well fed.

🤣

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