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I haven’t seen our nemesis …Momma red squirrel… for a few weeks now. This always makes me nervous, because when she disappears? I know she’s laying low, gathering her forces and plotting her next home invasion.
But after seeing this?
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Maybe I need to rethink my strategy.
🤣
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Not everyone will be able to participate in this game, but you can always stick around to read the comments.
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1976 Plymouth Fury. She wasn’t pretty…
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But she was a behemoth with a powerful V-8.
I was 16, dating a much older man who drove me and my girlfriends around whenever we wanted to drink and get loud. Looking back, it wasn’t exactly kosher…. but not much of my teenage years was.
We had the radio cranked up, flying down some long deserted country road we’d never travelled before. My guy was driving dangerously fast, not that we realized it at the time… and then poof. The road disappeared from under us as we crested a hill we didn’t know was there.
Airborne? You betcha. We landed with a thud, broke the frame of the car and were damned lucky we lived to tell the tale.
I saw the speedometer reach 115+ … so I’m counting it.
How about you?
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On our drive home from the mountains the other day, I got lucky.
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I finally found a man cave appropriate crate for my albums! No, I’d never heard of Holihan Brewers but neither did I care.
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They existed.
They brewed beer in Massachusetts.
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And that was good enough for me.
Okay, the crate wasn’t in the best of shape….
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But after a lot of elbow grease, scrubbing and oiling…
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It didn’t look half bad.
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And then there were three.
I’ll need at least 3 (probably 4, possibly 5) more.
I wonder if I’ll live that long?
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After our Fryeburg flea market bust and our Ebenezer’s success we decided to take the long scenic route home and cut through part of the White Mountains.
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It’s always a beautiful ride.
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Rolling hills and valleys and farms.
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And unlike our neck of the woods, very green.
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Even the corn looked happy.
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Through the woods, over the mountain, where the pictures stopped because my phone battery promptly died.
🥴
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Our neighbor across the street is an organic farmer who supplies some pretty swanky restaurants. So when he found a giant chicken mushroom like this one on a tree on his property?
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He harvested it and sold it for $250. That’s a fungus worth knowing.
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No, it’s not cool. It’s ridiculous. Please stop.
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Birds.
They live to tease Lord Dudley Mountcatten.
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Just… no.
I don’t want a vacation that revolves around discussing hot flashes and bloating. That is not my idea of money well spent.
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Yes, the beer and atmosphere at Ebenezer’s were fun… as witnessed by this quirky piece of art hanging over our table.
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But clearly that poor creature never sampled the menu. No one could go away hungry here.
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Second green Belgian beer on board, we ordered appetizers .
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I didn’t go with the real R.I. shit, but the coconut shrimp were divine.
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The husband’s usual French onion soup was anything but with a plethora of cheesy bread and rich deep broth.
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Second beer gone, I switched over to a frozen strawberry margarita bursting with fresh fruit.
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And eyed the probably quite appropriate ladies room sign.
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Our meal? It was spectacular.
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Two perfectly cooked juicy herb marinated chicken breasts with roasted vegetables made my mouth sing. And the small bowl on the top left? Not a roll, but a potato croquette with gravy. Weird, but delightful.
The large salad came with my husband’s choice…
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Pan seared scallops and lobster over sherried buttered cream corn. In a word? Fabulous.
No, you don’t want to know what the bill totaled. Suffice it to say my wallet screamed… and as much as I loved our experience, I have to admit it’s a good thing we don’t live closer. Temptation could bankrupt us quickly.
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You can’t use it, but if it entertains you… I’ll settle for that.
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That’s something you don’t see everyday.
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I’ll take him for a seat companion any day.
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I’ve probably seen them all already, but sure.
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My husband plogs every time we walk. He even carries a trash bag in his pocket.
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Clever ad campaign, but I’m still only buying two shoes at a time.
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Good on you Fido. I’m sure you would have beaten me as well.
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As I said in my last post, if you visit Ebenezer’s you won’t be disappointed. Unless you’re a beer hating wretch who prefers eating at McDonalds. And if you are, please take your bad taste elsewhere. I don’t have room in my life for that kind of negativity.
Ebenezer’s is not a large establishment and seating at the bar is limited.
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But oh what a bar it is. With hovering vultures and hand blown glass beer taps.
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The bar area is small but filled with unusual beer signs. I’m unfamiliar with this brew, but there are ostriches involved… so I’m firmly on board.
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Decor aside, one look at the impressive draught list will make you an instant devotee.
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We lucked out and visited at the beginning of their annual Belgian festival and may I just say? It was delightful. My choice for the afternoon?
A Hanssens OUDE GUEUZE LAMBIC. 5.8% – Strong tart and funky, notes of earthy wood, apple and grass $14.
Yes, grass.
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I drank green beer and loved it. And it wasn’t even St. Patrick’s Day. Smooth, herbal, with just a slight pucker. Consider me a fan. I liked it so much I didn’t even try anything from their second page, except ….
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Did you see it?
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A beer that will invert your penis? Who could say no to a taste of that!
They brought me a shot glass full because it’s quite potent. The taste? Oddly sweet and more reminiscent of whisky than beer. I liked it, the husband hated it. But then I don’t have invertible genitals so that may be understandable.
To be continued…
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My husband heard about a large flea market in Fryeburg , Maine… and since the 90 minute drive did not deter him, over to the western part of the state we went.
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There was indeed a flea market, but that’s the only good thing I can say about it. Yes, there were a few antiques scattered here and there… but mostly it was tacky new merchandise. Like this:
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Clearly Barbie has reached menopause age.
It was hot as hell that day with no breeze whatsoever and that made me cranky. The only thing that made me smile?
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Martian chauffeurs.
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After a few fruitless hours of my husband searching for treasure and me searching for shade, we left empty handed. And since it was well past lunchtime and I’d worked up a terrible thirst.. there was only one place to go. The penultimate brew pub.
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If you don’t know where it is, you’ll never find it… tucked away down a narrow wooded residential road, alongside a golf course in a quiet town near the border of New Hampshire called Lovell .
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The barn is the pub, and there’s outdoor seating as well.
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If you’ve never heard of Ebenezer’s? Good. That means more beer for me.
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But if you live in New England, chances are you know this award winning shrine to suds. A visit there never disappoints.
To be continued….
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And we’re back.
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I don’t know, from the look of that picture? I think I’d rather drown.
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Anyone who has served in the military or been in close proximity to those who do… knows what bug juice is. The fact that it was used in a toilet is not a surprise.
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His brain literally exploded. That’s mind blowing…
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Aren’t you glad you follow my blog?
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Clue me in here. I’ve been around servicemen for the past 40 years or so and have yet to see pigs or chickens tattooed on their feet. Point of fact… it’s bad luck to even say the word pig on a lobster boat. Seriously, the old school fisherman will light you up for that.
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River's world..... 