Random drivel and Dudley.

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Glazed donut popcorn! A day late and a donut short, that’s me.

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As you know, Lord Dudley Mountcatten likes to look out the laundry room window. And since his Royal personage (catonage?) must be kept comfortable at all times….

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His human slave has attached a soft towel to cushion the Royal butt.

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That looks says he would have preferred velvet.

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No reason for that, it just made me laugh.

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Lost guinea hens are making the local news.

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Polite guinea hens apparently.

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I include this because it is a running bone of contention in Casa River. I never answer the phone if I don’t recognize the number. Ever! The husband on the other hand, can’t stand the thought of missing something important… you know, like car warranty extensions or Rachel from Card Holder Services. I repeatedly tell him the more he answers, the more junk calls we’ll receive but he never believes me. Hence the photo of the number one thing you should do to avoid phone spam.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has a new octopus toy, which his mother put on his head in a feeble attempt to take his picture with a hat.

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His Lordship was not amused.

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Things I will never need.

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There are times when I run across items that beg the question… why?

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Yeah, we’ve all had a crappy year… but squishing plastic rainbow colored excrement isn’t the solution.

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Let me get this straight, good behavior is rewarded with…. poop? New age parenting is truly beyond my comprehension.

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I like wine. I like butter. I do not think I’d like canned butter wine.

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Is it? Is it really….

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Just… no. I don’t want my toothpaste dispensed from anyone’s butt, giant green ogre or otherwise.

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Garden fluff.

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Even with the drought we’re experiencing, the Rhodies were magnificent this year.

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And the Barn Mahal porch has color coordinated pots of pretties as well. I find orange and yellow really pop against the red.

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This little petunia almost looks painted.

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Whether it will survive the woodchuck onslaughter is another matter entirely.

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Do you have a bed where all the leftovers end up?

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This is mine. A mini bed by the bulkhead doors where my first ever gay feather is getting ready to bloom…. and the neighboring hostas have launched an invasion.

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Love this combination Lantana.

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When the woodchucks decimated my gardens 2 years ago I searched for flowers they hated and planted them. Foxglove? Check!

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Astilbe? Healthy and woodchuck nibble free.

Did you know astilbe is also called False Goat’s Beard? What’s up with that… are there goats who need to travel incognito?

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Apparently, yes. Yes there are.

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Language is a beautiful thing.

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I speak a little French, a touch of German and even less Latin… though technically I guess no one speaks Latin, we just trot it out at cocktail parties to impress people… which ironically, often has the opposite effect.

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When I was young my mother taught me a few helpful phrases in Hungarian… so if you’re ever in Budapest and need to say, Come here and kiss me? I’m your girl.

Language is a fascinating thing, but I’ve always felt sorry for people who need to learn ours…. because let’s face it, English is all over the place.

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I never thought about any of these…

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But they’re so true!

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Yup.

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English.

It’s clear as mud.

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Ducks

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Our resident mallard is really into his food.

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And yes, I meant that literally.

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The rival males still show up now and then.

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But our female has made her choice and they end up wandering around aimlessly…. as single men are apt to do.

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Standoffs with the woodchuck are still a thing.

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And the male mallard is showing some battle scars on his breast.

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But this day they were victorious…. and took a load off next to the spoils.

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Disturbing duck facts added for dramatic ending.

You’re welcome.

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Here we go again…

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It’s been a while since Facebook’s targeted Ball Wash ads flooded my feed. And silly me, I thought I was over the proverbial hump. Then I saw this…

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Ball Hammocks are not a step up…. and I seriously doubt dads need them. I mean really, look at that man. You can tell he would much rather have gotten a tie.

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Damn. Now I’m going to have to give up pizza forever.

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Bambi Bunchers? Please, no.

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Sweet Jesus. I really don’t care if your nuts are happy… and is it me? Or do those nuts look more like garlic anyway.

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There are a lot of wonderful places in the world to make love. Under a chocolate chip cookie is not one of them.

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I suppose cozy tube steak was inevitable.

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Noooo!

Not the red squirrel…..

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Chillin’….

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Do you see him?

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How about now?

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten saw him.

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Though eating him was probably higher on his list than it would be on yours.

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Yes, it was a little chipmunk scampering through the rhododendron in front of my kitchen window.

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The day was hot, the shade the bush provided was cool….

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So the little guy just stretched out… and chilled.

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I feel like my food is just phoning it in.

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After reading an article about a fine arts student in Montreal who made clothing out of food?

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I realized the contents of my refrigerator have to step up their game.

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Damn it cabbage, get up off your ass.

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And to think I’ve been wasting my broccoli in casseroles.

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A potato chip shirt? Sure it’s all innocent fun… until someone opens the dip.

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I don’t know about you, but an orange isn’t going to cut it for me. My girls would need cantaloupes.

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Gobble, gobble.

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Far be it for me to hawk a product from Amazon, I’m sure Jeff Bezos is doing just fine without my help. But I ordered this little jewel the other day….

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And was amazed at well it worked.

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Yes, it’s just a stupid plastic thing with a serrated end.

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But that sucker slides right down my bathroom sinks and shower drains and brings up all manner of nasty clogs. (I’ll spare you photographic evidence of my claim, suffice it to say I have a head of thick curly hair that doesn’t always stay on my head.)

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Save yourself a visit from the plumber (and his crack) . Buy a Green Gobbler today!

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