All posts by Rivergirl

Sarcastic comment loading.... one moment please.

Someone thought this was a good idea.

.

.

You can…

But the question is do you want to?

.

.

In Belgium, they think it’s a great idea.

ORIGINALLY A CHEEKY, IF TITANIC, piece of art, the
one-room Hotel Casanus is a giant intestinal
model that allows guests to spend a cozy night
inside a massive colon.
Resting in the Verbeke Foundation Art Park near
Antwerp, Belgium, the cozy anatomical model
was the work of Dutch designer Joep van
Lieshout. The slim, curved interior of the
furnished anus features a double bed, windows,
heating, and of course, working plumbing. The
exterior of the room is sculpted with bulging
veins and a giant puckered sphincter (non-
functional) on one end, and painted the visceral
red of exposed organs. The colossal muscle tube
almost seems out of place in the idyllic art park,
near a placid pond, yet it is composed of soft,
natural angles, no matter how gross.
Despite the stomach-churning imagery, visitors
still flock to the site to spend the night in the big
colon which is also surrounded by such
wondrous sites as black swans and an
unobstructed view of the night sky. Hotel
Casanus is somewhere between theme bed and breakfast and gross-out stunt tourism, but
whatever the draw, guests can’t help butt visit.

.

.

Not exactly what one would call luxury accommodations, but then again Le Negresco doesn’t have this….

.

.

News you can’t use.

.

You can’t use it, but read it anyway.

.

.

Now that was one busy woodpecker!

.

.

Seems like terrible waste of alcohol to me, but yes. You can.

.

.

I don’t know about you, but I’m quite glad humans can’t regenerate. Think how many women Donald Trump could grab with all those extra appendages.

.

.

Wow. That’s taking hide and seek to a whole new level.

.

.

Of course they do. Though I’m not sure what the tax rate for blackmail is this year…

.

Just for fun.

.

Because I was waiting for my husband (to please stop talking and get back in the damn car!) the other day… I scrolled through my cell phone’s photo album all the way back to the beginning to find the very first pic I took.

(As of today, I have 16,999 photos there. I love technology!)

April of 2013.

.

.

Meet Little Cheeper, a baby robin we found on our lawn after a storm. No nest or mother in sight so we adopted and raised him until he was old enough to release.

Did that little bugger poop? You betcha!

.

.

We kept him in a cat carrier overnight, but let him fly around during the say to strengthen his wings.

.

.

I didn’t want to hand train him as the goal was to set him free…

.

.

But he was a sweetie who followed me all around the house.

.

.

And helped me blog.

He was an adorable little guy, even if he did occasionally resemble a Starship Storm Trooper.

.

.

We fed him canned dog food per the vet’s instructions, supplemented with live worms and fruit.

.

.

Blueberries were his favorite.

All too soon (for me) it was time to let him go, and though I cried… it was the right thing to do.

.

.

He was hesitant at first, but when he felt the gentle June breeze? He took off for the apple trees and never looked back. I kept my eye on him for a few hours as he explored our property.. but he took to the air like a pro and was gone to do what robins do soon after.

❤️

.

Are you a plant person?

.

There are currently 31 houseplants in our home and my husband is rapidly running out of jokes about living in a jungle.

There are big plants…

.

.

And small plants.

.

.

Plants that started out small… but have grown too big for their pots.

.

.

Hell, there are even plants trying to make a run for it and escape their pots altogether.

.

.

The money tree hasn’t netted me one red cent…

.

.

And the pothos will probably wrap around my legs and swallow me whole one day…

.

.

But I love plants and never seem to get my fill.

.

.

Exactly!

Although by the looks of that picture, I actually do have all of those plants.

🤣

.

Oh, the places he’ll go.

.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten is a cat.

And as such, he is required to explore every square inch of his territory. This means whenever a drawer, door or cabinet is opened… he’s there.

Under the kitchen sink? Yes.

The spare bedroom closet? Absolutely.

So when I went searching for that old photo of our trip to Washington DC the other day? A new opportunity opened up for His Lordship.

.

.

It was somewhere he’d never been before and he took full advantage…. even though there wasn’t much room to recline.

.

.

Ugh. The pre-digital, cell phone accessible photos days.

How did we ever survive that? It took me almost an hour to find one stupid picture.

.

St. Patrick’s Day with a Scot.

.

We didn’t have any specific plans for St.Patricks Day so after running a few morning errands we decided to stop at our local pub for lunch on the way home .

Appropriate beverages were consumed.

.

.

Noticing the owner, and our favorite Scottish bartender, was slightly out of sorts… we inquired as to the reason.

Turns out he’d wanted the day off… because while most people enjoy that holiday? He hates it.

Naturally I asked why.

“Because I’m tired of everyone asking me what part of Ireland I’m from.”

Which probably explained the sentiment on his shirt.

.

☘️ 🤣 ☘️

.

I knew this would happen.

.

I knew it, but that doesn’t mean I’m pleased.

( Long… and unusual for me… personal rant to follow. )

As I’ve said many times, my husband is not happy in retirement. He doesn’t relax well or easily and has spent most of his 75 years in motion. One of nine children, he grew up poor on a dairy farm… and if that wasn’t enough work? He had his first job at age 12. Child labor laws… pfft! Not in those days.

22 years in the Marine Corps, 10 years with defense contractors and the last 22 with the Federal Government makes for a well earned and comfortable retirement. Everything we own is paid for, we have a nice nest egg and though we don’t live extravagantly…. we basically want for nothing.

The husband was supposed to retire in 2020 but then Covid struck and his entire office started working from home. No hour long commute, full pay and benefits to sit in your bathrobe and take two hour lunches? Sure, why not.

But by the end of 2021 he was tired of the constant politicking, the redundant paperwork, the travel ban, and a new computer system that defied human understanding. He hemmed and hawed, kept asking me what he should do and thought maybe it was time to pull the plug. I knew it would be hard for him but refused to be part of the decision. Leaving the Corps was a big adjustment, but not working at all would be worse. He had to want to retire or it wouldn’t work. I would support him either way.

So after a long deliberation, he retired December 31rst of 2021 and I have to admit, I was pleased. It was time to enjoy life. For an entire year he did what he wanted when he wanted. Unlimited time for yard work and projects, weekly breakfasts with his friends, a standing Sunday pool tournament in the man cave, impromptu trips here and there with no schedule, pressure or deadlines. I knew he missed his co workers and clients but truly thought he’d settled in to a new routine.

I was wrong.

Unbeknownst to me, he’d been in contact with his old boss since the beginning of 2023 and had floated the idea of going back to work. The office is understaffed and overworked so the boss was thrilled. I was not.

When the husband finally told me he was thinking of submitting a package for reinstatement we had a long discussion. And then an argument. I listed all the reasons I was unhappy and they were numerous. I won’t go into all the details but his health was #1 on my list. Though he doesn’t like to admit it, he’s not 20 anymore. Or even 60 for Christ’s sake. He had triple by pass 6 years ago, is pre diabetic, and takes a fistful of medicine. I worry.

And to be perfectly honest? The whole idea of him going back to work hurts my feelings. After all the years of my standing beside him, supporting every decision, allowing his career to take priority, moving when I didn’t want to, canceling vacations, taking care of his family because he wasn’t around…. this was supposed to be OUR time.

So I told him how I felt. I argued, I cried. He listened, and felt badly. But ya know what? He submitted the reinstatement package anyway. And when he did that? We really had it out.. because while I’m trying to understand his reasons? It’s pretty obvious where I stand in his priorities now and that hurts.

Do I doubt his love and commitment to me? No. Never. But apparently he needs work more than I realized. This became glaringly obvious when I overheard a conversation he had with a friend about returning to work. While my husband was having a hard time putting his feelings into words with me? To his friend he said ever since he retired he felt empty. Without purpose. Unfulfilled. Like he’s too old contribute and was being put out to pasture. It’s beyond sad. But it’s part of who he is, and feeling unproductive bothers him. I was hoping a leisurely life together would be enough at this point in his life, but clearly it’s not.

As I write he’s waiting for the official paperwork from the government. His package was approved by his boss, then the New England regional office and finally headquarters… but we’re talking about the government here so things move at a glacial pace. He’s said that if they don’t bring him back at the same grade, pay, vacation and benefits he won’t accept…. so I’m wondering if he’s having second thoughts.

I hope so.

I really do.

.

Let’s play.

.

Don’t argue. It’s required…

.

.

My parents were not vacation people and we never once loaded up the ‘62 Ford Falcon station wagon to hit the open road when I was a child.

Oh, there were wonderful day trips to the Jersey shore to swim and stroll the boardwalks… and overnighters in NYC so I could get my fill of dinosaurs at the Museum of Natural History or stuff my face full of cotton candy at Madison Square Garden when Ringling Brothers was in town…. but a true road or airline trip vacation?

Nope. Never.

I can’t honestly say I felt deprived, when you grow up in the New York/New Jersey metropolitan area there’s always plenty to see and do. And while we might have spent a few days in Connecticut or upstate NY with my parent’s friends on occasion, I wouldn’t really call that a ‘vacation’.

So as weird as it sounds, my first “real” vacation happened right after I got married at the ripe old age of 20. The husband and I were living in North Carolina where he was stationed when we jumped in his shiny black 280ZX with T Top removable roof panels … the ultimate in cool in 1984… and headed for Washington DC. I’d never been so we did all the typical tourist stuff – the Lincoln Memorial, the Vietnam Memorial, The National Zoo, the Jefferson Memorial and of course there was the prerequisite sexy photo in front of the reflecting pool at the Washington Monument.

.

.

Complete with stone washed denim and chunky silver link dangling belt. Oh to be that thin again. Sigh…

Done with the nations capitol, we headed to Newport Rhode Island where the husband had been stationed at the Naval War College years before.

Here’s a pic of his handsome self receiving a commendation for saving a young man’s life.

❤️

.

.

I honestly don’t remember much about what we did in Newport other than visit the Breakers… that oh so cute and cozy cottage where the Vanderbilts used to summer.

.

.

Those were the pre cell phone and selfie days where you had to rely on your husband to take a good picture and then wait a week to see if it turned out.

So that was my first real vacay.

How about you?

.

Miscellaneous nonsense.

.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten is not thrilled with snow and shoveled pathways.

.

.

Winter walkies are lasting approximately 2 minutes these days.

.

.

Spotted this in the crap cave cellar the other day but was unable to peruse the contents as the husband had it sealed in plastic. From the look of the cover, my idea of hippies and their idea of hippies are two different things.

.

.

While I don’t usually share recipes… I tried this one the other day and thought it was quite tasty, as well as easy to make, so here we are.

.

.

Saw this grill set in a store the other day and thought they must have been made with Shaquille O’Neal in mind. That’s my foot for size reference.

.

.

Talk about a big burger. Damn.

And lastly, here’s Lord Dudley having his morning coffee.

.

.

Don’t worry, he doesn’t really drink any… just tries to lick the residue of cream.

.