News you can’t use.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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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News you can’t use.

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Still here.

Still useless.

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Weed vomiting is now a thing.

Partaking of the chronic was so much easier in my day.

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Doing their part to keep Portland weird.

Carry on boys.

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Cake topper?

Why not.

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Probably not, but it will certainly make men want to.

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That’s a 911 call you don’t hear very often.

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Taking the term camaraderie to an entirely new level.

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🤣

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Atta boys, a beat up mayor and a Yankee gator.

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The WordPress attaboys had slowed for a while but then this popped up the other day.

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I highly doubt they read all my comments and picked out ten to be thoughtful.

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Those numbers don’t add up.

And yes, I’m still mad at myself for missing a day when my streak was over 1,400.

😡

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The unofficial mayor of Bath, Maine is clearly a scrapper.

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And his recovery was front page news.

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Someday I’m going to meet him in person. Or is that in feline?

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Never let it be said broccoli doesn’t belong on pizza. With a garlic crust, Alfredo sauce, 3 cheeses and grilled chicken? Fabulous.

As was the blackberry mojito.

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I hope these are true.

Smelly Onion beats the Windy City hands down.

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You never know what will pop up in small Maine towns.

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That’s impressive carving right there.

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He’s everywhere.

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It’s weird, but I’m starting to see Lord Dudley Mountcatten in all kinds of strange places.

No… not just around our house, I mean online.

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See?

His Lordship.

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I’m beginning to think he has a side hustle I know nothing about.

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It’s a little disturbing.

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He might even have a second home.

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Though he’s clearly wearing contacts in that photo.

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It’s odd… and the likenesses are uncanny.

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But then, even more impressive?

He showed up inside Monet’s Waterlilies.

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(Sorry, no corresponding real life picture. His Lordship does not do water, French or otherwise)

This silliness led me down a rabbit hole of including his photo in digital posters.

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That looks about right.

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He doesn’t eat tuna, but has been known to steal ham off my husband’s sandwiches.

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I could hang that one in the Man Cave/Barn Mahal.

But this was my favorite…

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Lord Mountcatten.

Starry Night.

❤️

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