Monthly Archives: October 2023

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The biggest and the best.

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I know it’s a little soon after my last series of fair posts, but we hadn’t been to the biggest and best fair in Maine in six years and last week the husband said let’s go.

So we headed west to Fryeburg.

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This was a weird year weather wise, with way too much rain late in the summer so I despaired of finding vibrant fall color.

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Leaves were turning but in muted hues.

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Of course it didn’t help the day we picked to go was gloomy, damp and overcast.

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Still pretty, but not jaw dropping for autumn in Maine.

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Pulling in to the fair grounds parking lot you pass rows and rows ( and rows and rows and rows) of travel trailers occupying every spare inch of ground.

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It’s a virtual RV city and my idea of hell on earth, but to each their own.

Maine doesn’t have an official state fair but Fryeburg is the last of the season, as well as the biggest and the best. Paying our $15 per admission price, we entered the gate by the horses and just missed some live music.

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The band wasn’t there, but the draft horses were and that’s even better.

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Some of these fellas are unbelievably large. I tried taking a selfie behind this guy but he started to back up as I was focusing so I backed up as well. And quite quickly.

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Magic Mike was beautiful…

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As was this dappled grey I would have to name Snowflake.

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For the most part they’re gentle giants but a weeks worth of people gawking and petting would make me want to kick something too.

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The definition of chill?

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Mr. Chunk.

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He really can’t help himself.

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My husband loves to talk. To anyone. At any time. Even if he’s paying them to work.

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This happened yesterday when the man we hire to bush hog our field every autumn showed up with his tractor.

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That’s the tractor under the arrow at the bottom of the hill. It was turned off and standing still because my husband went out to talk to him halfway through the mowing.

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Mowed field on the right. Unmowed on the left.

The worst part? My husband talked to the man for so long he wasn’t able to finish and we were left with a big patch of untouched field.

No telling when he’ll be able to come back and complete the job .

Things like this make me wish I could duct tape my husband to a chair.

With a gag in his mouth.

🤣

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News you can’t use.

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You can’t, but someone must because there’s so much of it.

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Damn. I could have gone all day without knowing that.

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Worms.

You never know where they’ll turn up.

🤢

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Any of my male readers want to try and explain this? Because I simply don’t see the appeal.

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I’m a nature lover and believe in sharing our planet with all its creatures, but if this bastard is threatening my wine and beer?

Kill it.

Kill it on sight.

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See?

Beer is good.

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No mystery there.

He’s surrounded by politicians…

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Another simple recipe.

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I love to cook, but I also like quick and easy sometimes.

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And this recipe certainly fit the bill.

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Since it’s autumn, I chose spice cake mix and apple filling.

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The batter worried me as it was thick and chunky…

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But the cake baked well, even if the finished product was a bit ugly.

I made a quick glaze from powdered sugar and milk to make it look slightly more appealing…

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The cake was moist and flavorful, though a bit heavy for my taste. But the husband liked it and if I make this particular combination again I think I’ll chop the apples into smaller pieces for more even distribution.

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I knew I shouldn’t have, but I did anyway….

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A blog friend recently commented on my post that included this support pickle.

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She said her family had a stuffed pickle they took photographs with every year… for holidays and special occasions like one does. Since she understandably didn’t want to share photos of her grandchildren online, curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the link she provided to see the photogenic Mr. Pickle of which she spoke.

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Wow.

If that creepy anthropomorphized gherkin is on her family’s Christmas card photo every year? I really want to be added to their list.

Thanks for the chuckle Grace.

Thinking that was the end of it, I continued with my morning and moved on.

Or so I thought. Because now that Amazon knows I’m interested in stuffed pickles?

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Yeah.

In hindsight clicking that link might not have been a good idea.

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Dancing pickles?

Yikes.

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A yodeling pickle that repeats what you say?

Hell no.

But then, just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse..

The recommended pickles took a turn to the dark side.

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Run!

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Of fog and wooly bears.

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We had a really warm week in Maine with temps hitting the lower 80’s. Not my idea of fall, but lots of people were thrilled summer is still hanging on.

With cool nights and warm days comes fog.

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So much fog the deer who usually only show up at dusk are here at dawn.

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This next picture is of a poor starling who smashed into our living room picture window.

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He was okay and eventually flew away after recovering from the shock. But he sure drove our cat crazy.

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Yes, people here still believe caterpillars can predict the weather.

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Looks like a mild winter to me.

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Random ramblings.

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Here’s a drone shot of a section of our farming neighbor’s property. It was so pretty I thought I’d share.

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I’m in awe of all those perfectly aligned weeded garden beds.

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In case you ever wondered what type of finish you should be using.

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A local Maine man who did well for himself and ended up owning half his town’s businesses just implemented this program. Free food for school age children. Proof positive there are still good people in this world.

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As you know, once we install new living room floors I’ll be shopping for new furniture. And while the husband is fine with replacing the couches, armchairs and coffee tables he started mumbling that we really didn’t need to update the dining room table and chairs we’ve had for almost 40 years.

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I beg to differ.

🤣

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A new medical study has revealed women who have frequent and long lasting hot flashes… read, me… are at a greater risk for heart disease and stroke. Women who have frequent night sweats… read, me… are at a greater risk for dementia.

So that’s it.

I’m doomed.

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A mantis mystery.

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On a walk with Lord Dudley Mountcatten the other day I noticed he found something in front of the garage.

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Batting it this way and that, I stepped in to rescue the poor praying mantis he was harassing and carried it to my flower garden.

Our yard used to be full of these delightful insects (Females bite the males heads off after mating. What’s not to love?) but in the past few years we’ve seen their number drastically decline.

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And while I’m used to the green version, this mantis was completely brown.

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So I’m not sure if it was a different species…

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Or just going through some sort of molt.

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Either way, I was pleased with the rescue.

His Lordship on the other hand, was not.

P.S…. did a little research on the mating ritual of the mantis and have to share.

Males of some mantid species mate more effectively when decapitated. Why? A nerve center in the male’s head inhibits mating until a female is clasped. If this nerve is removed, such as when the female bites off the male’s head, all control is lost and the result is repeated copulation.

So there is a reason….

🤣

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