News you can’t use.

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Because I excel at useless.

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Mount Erebus in Antarctica. We have a friend who was stationed there in the Navy. Better bring a coat.

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You mean Pink Floyd lied to us all this time….

🥺

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I have to admit even I’d never heard of this one.

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Maybe that 38 year old should hook up with the mid 20’s woman. No memory, no foul.

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Worst.

Tattoos.

Ever…..

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This is disturbing in so many ways.

There’s nothing in the world I’d rather do than have one more conversation with my late father. But a creepy AI version? No thank you.

Or as Robin so succinctly put it…

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👍

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Someone is in desperate need of an 18 hour….

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Poor Momma Chuck has her hands paws full with five babies.

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Teaching them to be self sufficient and take advantage of the daily buffet we lay out is exhausting.

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More often than not she beats them to it and gobbles everything up before they wander over.

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Momma needs nourishment and strength.

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As well as a decent support bra.

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What does she think of the local paparazzi?

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This.

🤣

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The fill is full.

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It seems my husband misjudged how much pea gravel he would need.

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4 yards was ordered and roughly two was used.

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The poor man loaded and dumped and spread for days.

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I honestly don’t know where he gets the energy or how he has the stamina at his age.

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I’m 16 years younger and it wears me out just watching.

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Viola!

Level ground… even though it may not look like it in the photo.

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Of course now there’s the question of what to do with the rest of the fill pile that wasn’t needed.

It’s way over here…

So maybe we’ll worry about that tomorrow.

🥴

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Random nonsense.

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Do you like gathering friends and family for a good old fashioned game night? Board games, card games, games of skill, games of chance … it doesn’t matter, they’re all fun.

And the best part? You can still take part even after you’re dead.

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Brilliant!

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is a daddy’s boy. Oh, he tolerates me because I’m the opener of cans and the sifter of poop but it’s my husband he follows from room to room and sleeps with at night. This allegiance also holds sway over freshly folded laundry.

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He curls up on my husband’s.

Never mine.

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A new Sopranos series?

I’m in!

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I can honestly say I’ve never wanted to play ball more in my life.

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#1 mistake?

Eating it. 🤢

(Sorry Mark)

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Let’s play.

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It’s as easy as answering a question.

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Thinking about my answer to this question, I realize I’ve lead a charmed life.

My childhood was innocent and idyllic with two loving and supportive parents.

My adolescence was a little wild, but I always knew right from wrong and when too much was too much.

My married life started at age 20 and continues 40 years later, well loved and well cared for.

I have never been to war, been assaulted or been in a bad car accident. I have never had serious physical health issues and my mental state is stable. (Though some might disagree)

Mortal danger?

The closest I can come is being stuck in river mud up to my chest when I was 10 years old. I crossed what I thought was a dry creek bed when my mother wasn’t looking and got seriously stuck. Every time I tried to move I sunk further down and my mother… ever useless in a crisis… just screamed hysterically from the bank. Thankfully some local college guys came to my rescue with picnic blankets tied together like rope. I remember being freaked out, not to mention filthy… but mortal danger might be stretching it.

Of course my husband drives like a raped ape and some say I take my life in my hands every time I get in his car… so there is that.

How about you?

How close have you come to mortal danger.

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Up close baby chucker.

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My first baby chucker count was off by two. There are five baby chuckers and my flower gardens are doomed.

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I try to make friends by sitting on the barn porch and giving them apples.

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I do this so they’ll leave my carefully tended blooms alone.

Sometimes it works, other times I’m left with a bed of bare twigs.

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It seems there’s always one brave little fella in every litter… the one who edges closer and checks me out more thoroughly.

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Yes, they munch my flowers.

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But damn, they’re cute.

❤️

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Wheelbarrow brigade.

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My husband had 4 yards of pea gravel delivered. And because he didn’t want to ruin the lawn or the new driveway, it was dropped at the outer reaches of our property.

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Good for the lawn, but bad for his back.

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He built a little ramp.

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And proceeded to haul small loads back and forth…

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All day long.

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Dumping them under the torn off porch…

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To try and level things out.

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It may not look like a long way, but when you’re his age? Trust me, it feels like a mile.

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Wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow.

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Dumped and spread.

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It’s hard to tell in the pictures but the difference in land height from right to left is a foot.

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Here, left to right.

And filling in 12 inches of a 30 foot span?

Is more than a one day job.

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