When the universe speaks, you have to listen. And the other day? It was screaming clams.
It started when the husband and I dropped by our local pub and had clam chowder for lunch. This was an oddity because they rarely make it.
The clam-athon continued when this story popped up in my news feed.
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I never even knew a purple pearl was possible.
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Good thing he didn’t trade them in on French onion soup. Offers have been made but the man is going to give the pearl to his daughter.
The third clammy thing that happened was a friend of ours showing up with a bucket. Her son had dug too many and she was willing to share. After a dinner of fried clams?
I heard about this:
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Yes, this time it’s real.
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Last year the crazy people behind Cards Against Humanity spoofed an old jar of Hellmans in a Black Friday ad campaign, but now? It really exists.
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You can’t say this company takes themselves too seriously.
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Or even the least bit seriously. Nope.
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I feel like I’m going to have buy a jar at some point, just because.
Every fort needs a kitchen and while this one probably didn’t contain many time saving appliances, it was large.
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This box was used for dough.
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And this was the table to knead it on.
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That’s a serious amount of bread.
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The enlisted mens quarters seemed to go on forever, but ironically construction of the fort was never completed and only 20 to 54 troops were garrisoned here during the Civil War. When 575 troops were stationed here during the Spanish-American War, they bunked outside the fort in tents.
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The powder magazine was found behind an extremely thick door and was heavily guarded.
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I’m hoping there was a no smoking sign posted as well.
One last walk around outside, past the D Battery cannon mounts.
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And we were done.
So that was Fort Knox. Impressive, well cared for and a big tourist draw.
My Facebook and Apple News algorithms are always coming up with ridiculous products they think I need to purchase.
I’m passing on all three of these.
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#1…. Swimsuit season is not approaching quickly in Maine, unless you count the Polar Bear plunge in February and I’ve never be crazy enough to do that.
#2…. My derrière is awake as it’s ever going to get. No caffeinated butt cream required. 
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No.
Just… no.
While I spoil Lord Dudley Mountcatten far more than my husband thinks I should, even I have limits.
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Do I want to carry around a 28 ounce gelatinous pouch of my own urine? I most assuredly do not.
Also, I spent my teenage years on an island in Maine where there were no public restrooms. I’m completely familiar with pissing in the woods if necessary.
These strange discs were lined up on the parade ground so the husband had to investigate.
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Having had my fill of stairs that day, I let him.
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Turns out they were storage vaults for ammunition.
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Alongside of that wall was a room with a broken water line that fed from a 27,000 gallon cistern…
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And next to that…
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A room with a giant rock. Because who doesn’t love that?
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The officer’s quarters were far from luxurious. Geesh, look at that lumpy mattress.
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But as cold and damp as Maine can be, at least they had a fireplace.
Now let’s take a strange turn here shall we?
Please note the mock up of a Revolutionary War officer seated on the right and the blanket draped over his chair. I wanted a better look at him and took this untouched photo from his other side.