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A few back yard photos from our recently blooming Japanese Iris.
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They’re smaller and more densely packed than the giant bearded variety.
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And to be honest a lot easier to deal with.
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A lovely annual burst of purple.
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And then there’s this showy shrub that blooms at the same time.
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The Weigela.
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A deep red beauty.
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Our new storm door is Lord Dudley Mountcatten’s most favorite thing in the world right now. As soon as we swing back the kitchen door in the morning and allow him viewing access? He’s perched. Watching the world go by at perfect kitty height.
He watches birds. The rain. Squirrels. A leaf blowing by. It doesn’t matter… he’s there. And riveted.
So when I heard him cackling the other day I figured it must be something good.
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And it was.
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A baby woodchuck climbed the stairs to the landing and lay down on the welcome mat.
Right there.
In front of His Lordship.
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It was almost too much for a cat to bear.
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That little chucker got comfy… and stayed.
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No matter how crazy it drove our resident feline.
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🤣
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During a recent pilgrimage to our favorite New Hampshire butcher shop/restaurant/pub, I saw a sign for “The Cow Palace” and made my husband turn around.
A palace of cows?
You know I had to see that.
Turns out it was an ice cream shop, which is fine… I love a good scoop of coffee or mint chocolate chip.
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There was a pond.
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A barn.
A cow themed parking sign.
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And a crowned cow on the wall.
But.
No.
Actual cows.
Boo to false advertising.
😡
And boo to my eagle eyed husband who saw a sign for an estate sale down the road, climbed up to the top of their barn and came down with a broken Amish wooden scythe that he had to purchase and bring home.
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Sigh.
Junk collecting is an addiction, don’t let anyone tell you differently. And if there was an Antiques Anonymous? I’d be signing my guy up for weekly sessions.
Upon returning home we found a pissed off cat…
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Who had to access his viewing window in the laundry basket because his mother forgot to move it before leaving.
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I have a feeling I’ll be paying for this transgression later.
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🥴
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Seriously.
No one can.
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Good grief.
Most men don’t know what to do with one.
😈
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I think I’m more concerned with how they get out.
😳
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And they’re just telling me now?
Damn. That would have been tv worth watching.
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Honey badger don’t play.
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You have to appreciate that level of commitment.
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I’m sure it was wonderful… but I’m guessing a tad over priced.
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The little chucks love their carrots.
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And there’s one baby who holds his high in the air.
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So high it tips him off balance.
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I never manage to get a picture of him falling over while nibbling …
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But trust me, it happens.
😊
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Today our country turns 250 years old. I should be celebrating, but I’ve lost the joy.
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I’m a first generation American on my father’s side, his family came from England in 1920. He was 10 years old.
I’m a second generation American on my mother’s side, her parents came from Austria in 1923. My grandmother was pregnant. Birthright citizenship, it matters.
I’m the proud wife of a Vietnam veteran.
The proud daughter of a World War II veteran.
The proud great granddaughter of a Civil War veteran.
The proud 4th great granddaughter of a Revolutionary War veteran.
I’m proud of their service, their sacrifice and their dedication to the freedoms we hold dear … but I’m not proud of what the country they fought for has become today.
And I doubt they would be either.
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That being said, I hope all of you have a wonderful holiday filled with whatever brings you joy.
❤️
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Because it’s Friday and the weekend is almost here.
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We live in Maine for many reasons but high on the list? The scenic beauty.
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Rocky shores, coastal plains, virgin forests, rolling pastures and small pristine mountains. I love the change of seasons… the crisp colors of fall, the winter wonderland of snow.
I lived down south for 17 years and while parts of it are beautiful, it was never home. Too hot, too flat, too depressingly brown for Christmas.
So give me the blue zone. The cool air, the lakes, the mountains, the northern coasts. Quirky New England villages and Montana’s wide open valleys. I’ll be a happy camper. (Metaphorically speaking as I don’t camp.)
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How about you?
Pick a zone.
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Every spring Maine has a pollen problem. The trees explode with new growth and yellow powder covers everything. And since winter hung on a little longer this year? The pollen season has stretched into summer.
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This was I-295 southbound a week ago.
Not fog. Not smog….
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Pollen. Choking the air.
Makes me glad I don’t have allergies.
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It’s rare, but woodchucks do climb trees. As evidenced by this photo I took of a youngster checking out our apple tree branch.
Even rarer?
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Capturing a picture of the young woodchuck kamikaze diving off said branch.
He was fine and wandered off shortly after the drop.
😳
Warning – little bit of grossness ahead.
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I bought a rotisserie chicken for a chicken and dumpling casserole recipe the other day. But as I started carving it?
Eewww …
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I can honestly say I’ve never seen whatever the hell this was before.
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A big blood spot on the breast and something disgusting that looked like pumpernickel bread in the meat.
What the hell!
Was it an infection? A tumor?
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Either way, it was disgusting and completely off putting.
Needless to say we ordered pizza that night.
🤢
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After more than four months of painfully waiting for an orthopedic appointment, I finally jumped the first hurdle on the path to knee replacement. (Not literally, because I can barely crouch to tie my damn shoes no less jump over something… but you get the idea.)
Hurdle #1 – see the physician assistant orthopedist. Gatekeeper to the great and powerful actual orthopedic surgeon.
My husband insisted on going with me to the doctor’s office this time. He never has before, but he’s been dealing with the fallout ( and yes, the incessant whining ) from my bad knee for the last 6 years as well and wanted to hear the diagnosis/plan first hand.
The ortho PA was great. Friendly but no nonsense, and after a battery of X-rays and an exam he said I was a good candidate for partial knee replacement.
At this point my husband asked me to stand up and face away from the PA.
Huh?
I did and then felt my husband touch the back of my bad knee and ask the PA why it looks like that.
Like what? He never told me anything looked weird… and I certainly can’t see it!
The PA said it looked crooked because basically the inside of my right knee had collapsed. Which makes me wonder how long I’ve looked freaky every time I wear shorts and why my beloved spouse never thought to mention it.
😡
Anyway, the PA set me up with an appointment with the surgeon (the good one I wanted from the beginning, so yay to that) for early August. He’s hoping they can schedule surgery quickly because I’m otherwise healthy and have no major medical problems … though I do have to get written clearance from a dentist and my primary before they’ll cut. Can you spell liability?
In case you’re interested in the medical gobbledegook? These were my official results.
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There was also this:
“Significant narrowing of the right medial compartment with sclerotic change evident on both the medial femoral condyle and the medial tibial plateau”
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Whatever the hell that means.
All I know is I’m bone on bone on the inside of my right knee and it’s hella painful. Surgery is going to suck but my mobility is so limited right now I really don’t care.
Bring on the knife.
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It isn’t often the entire woodchuck clan shows up for a nosh at the same time.
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But I managed to snap a few quick shots of momma and siblings vying for carrots the other day.
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A bit of squabbling took place among the kids.
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But no one got in mommas way.
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😊
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River's world..... 