Baby fox!

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It doesn’t happen often. Our house is too far away from the woods and they have to cross a long wide open space to reach the buffet.

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Matter of fact this is only the third time in twenty years we’ve seen it.

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But momma fox brought a baby to the buffet last night.

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And we were beyond thrilled. Baby is on the left, and as you can tell not a little baby anymore, but momma won’t risk them in the open when they’re small.

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News you can’t use.

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If you ever can use this news? My apologies, that’s never been the intent.

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What… you thought they built those pyramids sober?

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I’d like to say this is a joke and laugh, but it’s true and not the least bit funny.

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I’m having visions of lobsters flitting to and to fro from plant to plant under the sea… and it’s quite delightful.

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No side effects from climate change my ass.

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At this point he’s got my vote, dude.

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Leave my ice cream alone!

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I’m not a huge ice cream eater and normally don’t have any in the freezer at home, but I do enjoy a nice creamy coffee or mint chocolate chip cone now and then. And while those are my go to flavors I’m always game to try something different. Apple pie? Sure. Passion fruit sherbet? Why not. But there’s a line I’m not willing to cross and the following are on the other side of it.

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I won’t. And you can’t make me.

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Yes. Someone thought it would be a good idea to make eggplant ice cream.

And may I just say…. they were wrong.

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Miller brewing company? Your dishwater beer is bad enough.. what were you thinking?

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Tobacco smoke ice cream? For the love of all that’s holy, no.

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A pool table tune up.

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The husband came in the house the other day complaining his pool table felt was loose. You know, the extra expensive, special order, professional grade imported fabric he just had to have when we bought the table. Fearing this would be the usual Casa River nightmare… I was pleasantly surprised when after one call to the store of purchase the owner’s son was here to fix the problem the next afternoon. For free.

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Free is always my favorite word and to be honest I never even knew pool tables needed tune ups but apparently it’s quite common.

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And it isn’t a quick fix by any means.

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Rails must be removed, fabric must be loosened and peeled off the slate. The wax seal must be checked and smoothed.

And then tugging begins.

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Which of course the husband had to be in on.

Men. You do love a good tug.

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After a solid two hours of pulling and tugging and securing on this side, and then pulling and tugging and securing on that side, only to repeat the pulling, tugging and securing on the first side etc etc until I would have heaved the whole table out the door, it was done.

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Rails were replaced, stray threads were trimmed, felt was cleaned and no bill was presented. When I asked the young man how long the warranty on the table lasted… he floored me by saying forever. Granted the fabric will only have so many stretches in it, and because ours is thinner than normal felt it won’t last as long… but as far as normal maintenance goes we’re golden.

This happens so infrequently I was at a loss how to respond. So I pressed a big old tip into his hand to show our appreciation.

🙂

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Treasure.. part 3.

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The husband bought another vintage cocktail recipe book, though to my knowledge he’s never mixed a cocktail in his life.

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He knew it was old because it said so right in the title.

🥴

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Mixed drinks are no mystery to me, but whatever.

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Pinch bottle and spot bottle? Now I know what my mother was talking about when she said she added a pinch of this and a pinch of that.

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Those are some pretty potent potables, and I definitely could have used the income tax cocktail during my 8 hour conversation with the IRS last month.

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And look, they even have vintage snack recipes. Though no crudite …. sorry Mehmet.

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Husband’s other little treasure was this promotional package of Squirt. Can’t say I ever drank it, but I’m thinking it’s citrusy.

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False advertising.

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Since his lordship destroyed his last scratching post it was time to purchase a new one.

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Thank goodness it came with instructions. I’m sure I would have had no idea where to put the screw otherwise.

Sigh.

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This was the picture on the box. A happy cat totally focused on exercising his claws.

In my world? Not so much.

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Oh, Lord Dudley Mountcatten ran right for it when I placed it on the floor. He sniffed it, rubbed against it and laid down in front of it. What he didn’t do was scratch it.

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Even after I purchased and sprayed it liberally with awesome stuff.

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Though his eyes did look a trifle dilated…

😉

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Let’s play.

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Because you know I’ll never run out of these.

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The instant I read this a mental image of my mother standing impatiently waiting for me to get to the point flashed through my brain.

I was a creative child who loved to read, one more apt to be found at the library than the playing field. A good story always held me spellbound. So when I’d come running into the house anxious to tell my mother something interesting… but in the telling ended up weaving a long disjointed tale that made me forget the original thread…. she’d always shrug her shoulders, turn away and say, “It must not have been very important.”

To which I always wanted to scream, “Now I remember! The house is on fire.” … like that would teach her to take me seriously.

Ah, childhood.

Good times.

What did your mother always say to you?

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Treasure… part 2.

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More ephemera for the collection.

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WWII gas ration book, Army Air Corps ( precursor to the Air Force) birthday card and a warning from Uncle Sam.

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Vintage political.

And then there was this strange little booklet about the different lodges. When you read it, start with the number on the top… it’s a countdown.

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I’ll spare you the entire book…

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Long live the Elks! They know how to hold their liquor.

And finally, my personal favorite…

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An ad from the St. Louis chemical company famous for its miracle cures and odd skeleton graphics. Many products contained quinine and heroin but this particular flyer is for Antikamnia. The formula varied over the years but the main ingredient was acetanilide, a coal tar derivative which caused cyanosis… turning patient’s extremities blue from a lack of oxygen. Deaths were reported as early as 1891. No miracle there I’m afraid.

The flip side.

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