Oh FFS.

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My hatred for the new editor abated slightly when I played with it on my computer the other day.

I scheduled some critter posts filled with pictures and thought alright, I don’t love it… but I can pull up my big girl panties and deal.

Until I tried to edit one of them on my phone today.

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What?

The picture was there in the scroll….

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But when I opened the post it basically said F you.

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Yeah.

so I’m back to hating it again.

*Cue the Pointer Sisters*

 

I’m so excited!

We had multiple contractors come over and give us estimates on our exterior barn project… (Staining, trimming, soffiting) and after I picked my jaw up off the ground and cursed the fact we didn’t have any children to sell… we chose a locally owned and operated company.

We’re on their schedule, but I don’t know when they’ll start.

 

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I’m sorry, that was a cruel tease…. and a shameless attempt to lure aged disco fans to my blog.  Please feel free to play Neutron Dance and curse me at your leisure.

Not trusting anyone else to pick out the trim boards, the husband dragged me to a lumber yard…

 

 

Where he closely examined and rejected dozens of 16 footers in the premium grade.

* Note to lumberyard workers – if you see my husband coming? Run. *

He refused so many, I swear the kid who was helping us starting sprouting grey hair.

After the first hour he delicately suggested we upgrade to the finish grade.

Which we did.

 

 

But…. silly boy, did he really think that would make a difference?

It shouldn’t surprise you to learn we were there the entire afternoon. And just when we were ready to leave?

The husband met a fellow Marine.

Another hour later… we left.

It’s amazing how exhausting it is standing around doing nothing. So much so, after we unloaded the truck…

 

 

Does that look like $450 worth of wood to you?

 

 

We fired up the grill….

 

 

And poured the adult beverages.

Dinner that night?

 

 

Lamb chops.

Life is good!

Well, crap.

 

And yes, I mean that literally.

Continue at your own risk.

Remember, you were warned.

 

 

And I’m not talking about a little poo. No.

To be precise….

 

 

It’s a dozen piles of crap.

 

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On top of our stone wall.

 

 

What?

 

 

Why?

 

 

All along the top of the wall….

 

 

Crap.

 

 

It looks like skunk to me, although why the little devil feels the need to climb up there and poop every night is beyond me.

I love my town.

I also love all the ridiculous things people post about on its Facebook page.

In case you were wondering, no one volunteered to remove the stinky little bugger and he was released.

Skunk-1

Homeowner-0.

A reasonable response, but hell.

I didn’t even know we had a potato truck!

I showed this to the husband…. but he said there’s no room in the barn.

😡

I don’t know…

Cowbusters?

I hate when someone beats me to the perfect comment, don’t you?

A chicken plucker!

I’m shivering in avian sympathy.

Clearly it’s been a long time…

 

As you know, I am not a 25 year old single woman….  (Please refrain from commenting if you value our friendship)  so it’s been a while since I leafed through a Cosmopolitan magazine. But for some reason a girlfriend gifted me a subscription, and I felt I needed to honor the gesture.

 

 

Hmm.

My hair removal routine is neither adventurous nor worth writing about, and as for the scale….. I’m afraid my hairless cat level will have to remain a mystery. I like my readers, but not that much.

 

 

And how do they know walking burrito wasn’t the look I was going for?

Fashion is personal…. and I happen to have the perfect black bean earrings to match, so there!

 

 

The selfie wasn’t around when I was young and single, so this may be a day late and a dollar short… but here goes.

 

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Okay, so maybe I need a little more practice.

 

 

What kind of noodle am I?

Yes…. I’m beginning to remember why I stopped reading Cosmo in the first place.

(In case you’re wondering? Rigatoni baby.)

I found this issue to be so utterly ridiculous, I may have to make it a monthly series. And if you’re groaning now?

Just be thankful I didn’t share all the articles today.

 

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Yes, it’s clearly been a while since I read single women’s magazines.

 

Only in America

I read something the other day that literally made me snort.

It was a list of people’s thoughts on visiting the United States for the first time…. and what they found unusual.

Here are a few.

I dare you not to laugh.

Because really…

Sometimes you need more from 7/11 than a raspberry Slurpee.

Well, we do like to super size things.

Including our hips, thighs and waistlines.

That’s so true you don’t have to laugh.

Also true.

And before your uber patriotic fingers start typing hate mail… we’re a family of veterans, I love my country. But you have to admit, we are very in your face about it.

Ha!

They have a point there.

Reason #612 why I hate this new editor.

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Bear with me while I bitch.

(I have two weeks worth of scheduled posts in the queue so the bitching will be limited at this time.)

Ever since the husband started teleworking in March, I’ve been doing a lot of blogging on my phone. Which, until the new roll out of the editor from Hell, was fine.

But now that people are being forced to use it, things have changed… at least for me.

My friend from  No Facilities, Dan Antion, is always nice enough to include photos of the rabbits he sees on his walks for me. With a backyard family of foxes, bunnies are the one critter we never see at Casa River.

But when I look at his posts now…

This is what I see –

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Text over photos.

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Photos over photos.

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Text over text.

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And photos over text.

Anyway you look at it, it’s a mess.

So if any of WordPress’s inappropriately named ‘Happiness Engineers’ drop by to say hello?

Be sure and tell them I ain’t happy.

The very definition of random.

 

Let’s start with a beautiful picture I snapped the other night when we took a ride up the coast.

 

 

Maine summer on the ocean.

You can’t beat it.

 

 

Our neighbor invited us over to see their tree house up close and personal.

 

 

Yes, the tree adjacent tree house I complained about in my blog a while back.

So… which one of you weasels ratted me out?

 

Adverbs.

Or rather, the death of them… is driving me to drink.

 

 

Real delicious?

Make the next one a double.

 

 

Grocery store bouquets.

 

 

Because sometimes a girl just has to buy herself flowers.

 

 

Socks… for my table?

Wonder if the dryer will eat those as well.

 

And finally, because you know I couldn’t resist….

 

 

You’re welcome.

Summer means watermelon.

 

And woodchucks eating watermelon is too damned cute not to share.

 

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I never thought about giving watermelon to the chucks.

 

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But a bowl of it got pushed to the back the fridge recently and I couldn’t see throwing it away.

 

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Let me tell you….

 

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There were some happy little chuckers that afternoon.

 

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Until the last piece was in sight.

 

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Then it was every chuck for themselves.