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I don’t often catch the baby woodchucks nibbling my flowers but this little dude was quite brazen.
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Strolled right up on the deck and started chewing the bloomless petunia I’d transplanted from the garden to a pot because they were eating it.
Yeah.
That worked well….
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Because this month’s issue was extra horrible and requires two posts.
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Sorry Cara, but I definitely don’t want to hear all about your sex toys.
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Golden penis syndrome. If nothing else? Receiving this gift subscription has made me aware how utterly out of touch I am.
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As if you men don’t think your wands have magic powers already. Geesh.
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Interesting demographic there. All in the south except one town in Massachusetts. Wonder why…?
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No, I didn’t tear that article out and I didn’t tuck it under my mattress. I did give brief thought to sending a copy to Monica Lewinsky… but alas, I think that ship has sailed.
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Last weekend we invited the husband’s 4 sisters who live in Maine to a barbecue/pool tournament/behold the majesty of the Barn Mahal man cave/ party. It was a good time… except for one dastardly deed. You see one of his sisters brought this:
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After I specifically said we were grilling filet mignon… she had the audacity to contribute to the feast.
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A dozen lobsters, fresh from the ocean that morning. Damn her rotten black soul!
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I had to watch those succulent creatures being disbanded…
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Dropped in the pot…. ( Only 2 inches of water please. We steam, not boil )
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Covered with a lid ( And a brick. They tend to buck when dying. Hell, wouldn’t you? )
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Oh, the horror!
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The horror of watching everyone tuck into the delightful crustaceans I can no longer eat.
It was Hell. Pure, unadulterated Hell.
😫😫😫
The only pleasure I took was not being able to find our crackers and picks. Substitutions had to be made.
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Good thing the tool box was close by.
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The husband was schooled at the pool table by two of his sisters, which I thought was fitting punishment for consuming and enjoying lobster in front of his now allergic wife.
But once the party was over, the mess cleaned up and everyone went home… what was almost worse than watching everyone eat them?
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Seeing the two leftover red beauties every time I opened the fridge the next day and knowing I couldn’t make a lobster roll.
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Hell, I tell you.
It was Hell.
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Because I never run out of drivel.
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I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess most of those voters were male.
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I followed this truck the other day and it made me smile. The Russians are coming? As long as they bring vodka and pelmeni I’m probably alright with that.
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O. M. G.
I may never go in my closet after dark again….
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I bought quack snacks for our visiting pair of mallards. I bought two bags because I’m a generous duck loving person.
Did the ducks appreciate my effort and generosity? They most certainly did not. And refused to eat one single lousy bite.
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Ungrateful little bastards.
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I really wish they were month lilies.
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Because they’re a wonderful pop of color in the garden and a day just isn’t enough.
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I have them scattered here and there around the property.
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And while this dark pink is my favorite, it’s never grown larger… though I planted it 17 long years ago.
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This line of hostas and day lilies was here when we moved in… and though it’s not a good spot, I’ve yet to relocate them.
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This double ruffle is sweet.
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But the stormy sky behind my backyard patch?
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Not at all sweet.
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Apologies to my male readers, but it’s that time again. Time to question why anyone in their right mind reads this magazine.
This months issue of the gift that keeps on giving (whether I want it to or not) includes a discussion on bathing suit thongs.
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Please feel free to weigh in.
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Sphincter dental floss. Not likely to erase that mental image for the rest of the day are you?
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Eww. While I’m technically not against the trend…. I never thought of that!
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Less wedgie potentially? It’s specifically designed to be a wedgie. Your argument is invalid.
This next article made even me look twice.
Last chance guys…. if you don’t leave now I won’t be held responsible.
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I did warn you.
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If it’s that common, how did I not know this!
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Holy crap!
I can’t even imagine….
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Rock wall repair completed, it was time to tackle the grass-less section of dirt. We’ve been abnormally dry for the past few months and our lush green lawn was anything but. The weeds? They’re doing just fine. 😡
We tried seeding the bald area, but of course the minute we did that… we had a gushing thunderstorm that washed it all into the ditch. Enter some strategically placed sod.
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I’ve never sodded anything before so the fact that it came in nicely rolled little burritos tickled my funny bone.
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The color doesn’t exactly match….
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But it’s close enough for a ditch and will hopefully blend over time.
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Trying to keep it moist enough to root will be a bit of a challenge with the drought….
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But for $40 it was a quick efficient fix.
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*Warning- this is really just a Dudley photo dump and has little (okay, absolutely nothing) to do with the Olympics*
I love to watch the Olympics, sometimes with Lord Dudley Mountcatten by my side. So with that in mind, I bring you…
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His Lordship’s favorite event is the feather ball toss.
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He practices daily.
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And is in gold medal contention for his bat it under the couch and then howl until the human recovers it routine.
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If looks could kill?
Ouch.
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Nice squashing form!
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No, I’m not through taking pictures yet.
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Caught in mid swipe…
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Time outs must be taken for fly hunting.
And then?
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A nap on the ball.
Athletes be tired.
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Come on. You know you want to…
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I am seriously and utterly screwed.
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My only weapon is the tiny water pistol I use on his Lordship when he scratches the furniture. So unless zombies melt like the Wicked Witch of the West?
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I’m screwed.
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This month someone is seeking a new home for their goats.
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Nothing wrong with that… but the reason?
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Now that’s a bit disturbing. If you have to re-home your goats because of rats? You might want to re-examine your current living conditions as well as your livestock’s.
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Do you have a guy? We have a guy. I can’t tell you the name of our guy because then he would be your guy and wouldn’t have time to be ours.
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Aww. I haven’t seen the lost pig, but if these people are really the owners…. shouldn’t they know the pig’s gender by now?
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Okay, so not everyone is polite in our town.
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Bunny! In all the years we’ve lived here we’ve never had a visiting bunny. And from the text of the announcement, it’s now abundantly clear why. We simply don’t have the right kind of weed.
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River's world..... 