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Baby woodchucks are starting to explore the back deck.
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And have quickly figured out it’s a nice place to sit in the sun.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten assured me this beats watching Animal Planet on tv hands paws down.
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Baby whistle pigs are fast, and fun to watch scampering around the deck.
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His Lordship agrees .
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The search for items to sell at a flea market continues and things are being belched up from the basement at an alarming rate. I don’t know if he’ll ever actually go through with this plan, but he certainly is enjoying the trips down memory lane.
Today’s treasure?
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The 1967 version of an adult party game. And judging from the look on that woman’s face, insufficient martinis were consumed before play began.
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The game is simple. 24 cards are placed on top of the feely box, you draw one… then reach inside to pull out the corresponding item.
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Yes, those are teenie tiny dentures. 1967 sounds like a blast.
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Never let it be said my state is not an interesting place.
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To be honest, I’ve drank beer with worse.
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Clearly a man who appreciated his ale.
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I really want to have a beer with a ghost and will try talking the husband into a sunset trip to Rockport in the near future…
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If you remember from a previous post, I’m highly susceptible to the dreaded brown tail moth rash. Seriously, if there’s one of those little bastards in my neighborhood, my town or even my county… it will find me and make me pay.
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Their hairs are microscopic and if you come in contact? You’ll know it within a few hours. Which is what happened to me after weeding my perennial bed the other day, even though I wore gloves and made a point to avoid brushing up against the tree.
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My knee…
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And arm a few hours after showering. I had the rash on my legs, my back, my stomach, my arms and especially my right knee. That section of flesh was positively on fire with uncontrollable itching… and by the next day?
* warning – if you’re eating while reading this, you might want to skip the next picture *
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My right knee looked like Mount Vesuvius, and not in a good way. Failing to understand why this particular body part suffered such an extreme reaction, I examined the pillow I was crouching on and sure enough… I had squished a moth to death on the right side and ground his toxic hairs deep into my epidermis.
Life has not really been worth living this week, and if you happen to have any extra rough grade sandpaper lying around… feel free to send it my way so I can rip off what’s left of my skin.
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In the continuing makeup inspired by weird things trend…
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Chocolate scented nail polish? Ewww. Who needs random people trying to lick your fingertips in the Covid era.
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This makes me even more reticent to go down in the husband’s crap filled cellar. There no telling what’s been living down there….
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Real estate has always been astronomical in my state but the recent inflation in the housing market is now completely out of control.
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As far as I’m concerned there’s only one mistake. Eating it.
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At this point, a Mats car is probably easier to book than anything from Hertz or Avis.
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Now that we had my longed for pallet of stones, it was time to attack the garden of weeden .
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Since the damage to my knee, I try to avoid anything that has to be done in a crouched or kneeling position but I’d put this off for two years and if pain was the price I had to pay for a new perennial bed? So be it.
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An hour and a half in, I was sore.
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Two and a half hours in I was popping Tylenol and Motrin like Jelly Bellies.
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At the end of the day my knee was creaking like the front door of a haunted house, but it was done. A 10 x 20 patch of virgin soil, ready for a stone border and planting.
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Remember the little baby woodchuck who loved our house so much he hugged the kitchen porch?
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Well now he’s moved out back to the deck.
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He happily hangs out in the sun and surveys the back lawn.
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And to show his appreciation?
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Another hug.
❤️
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We took a short break for lunch after getting the first half of stone stacked at home and then headed back out for the rest.
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Me.
Dirty, hot, and sweaty but smiling ear to ear because I was surrounded by rocks.
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While the yard man was picking up the second half of our stones with the forklift, my husband met a Marine. And if that wasn’t bad enough… he was also a fellow Vietnam Veteran. Much talking ensued. Sooo much talking. By the time they were done gabbing and ready to spread the rocks in the truck bed, the husband decided he didn’t want to go to the extra trouble and told the kid to just set it down as is.
I disagreed. Vocally and quite loudly. Naturally, I was ignored. I lamented hurting his new (old as dirt) truck and kept saying it wasn’t worth the risk of straining the engine and suspension. For that? I got ‘the look’. You know the one, the “how dare you question my manly logic?” look.
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We drove the 25 odd miles home on the back roads at 30mph with a squatted rear end and an overheating engine. The truck strained big time and we realized this second load was much closer to 2,000 lbs than the 1,500 we thought. 5 miles from home the temperature gauge was pegging out. I begged him to stop, but no. I swear at that point he would rather have blown his engine than admit I was right.
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We made it home, barely. With a smoking hood and a radiator that was literally boiling. I could hear it… he couldn’t (because he’s half deaf in one ear, thank you USMC) ergo it wasn’t happening.
Men!
You really are a ridiculous species.
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As the truck temperature came down from surface of the sun hot, we got back to work…
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And made a lovely little pyramid of stone. We’re definitely going to need another pallet or two to complete my vision of the perfect garden border. He says no, but trust me this is nowhere near enough.
Can’t say that I’m looking forward to another trip like that though.
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River's world..... 