The ice was here to stay… so work on the bedroom windows was fraught with slippery hazards.
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After the two small windows were installed our contractor needed another set of hands to help him with the big picture window…. so out went my husband.
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The jerry rigged planking platform was less than ideal.
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And the supports were definitely not OSHA approved.
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Mind you, that’s all ice covered snow.
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*Gulp*
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They did it, so naturally I had to document the event.
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That thing was heavy, and awkward to maneuver.
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I was cringing the whole time… expecting a slip and a crash.
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But it exited without mishap.
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And a giant air conditioned hole was left.
The crazy part of the removal? When they took it out we found this on the sill.
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A handful of screws.
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The old window was sitting right on them. How crazy is that!
We woke up on day 3 of vacation with a lovely pink beach sunrise.
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I have to say it’s not a bad way to start the day.
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Our first adventure found us at Botany Bay Heritage Preserve. A 4,000 acre property, open everyday and free to the public. Originally two cotton and timber plantations, it’s now a haven for wildlife and a wonderful place to explore by car, on foot or horseback.
Upon entry, it’s all about the trees.
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A mile long dirt road of nothing but glorious live oaks dripping with Spanish moss.
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In spots they form a stunning canopy…
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And it feels like you’re stepping back in time.
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When I think of the south?
This is the image I see.
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They truly are magnificent things.
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Driving the loop trail through ruins and fields, we eventually found the water.
After a full day of furniture shopping my husband cried uncle.
Or more accurately, Sicilian Table in Falmouth.
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It’s the new sister restaurant to our favorite and we’ve been a few times. Remember the fabulous fish?
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We snagged a spot at the busy bar…
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And commenced cocktailing.
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Okay, maybe that was me.
First up? A rosemary lemondrop.
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Sheer herby perfection.
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Enough so that I had two, with a beautifully rich chicken Marsala.
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Moving on to the winter Cosmo I watched my husband devour the Devils Tower of beef.
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My name not theirs. It was a fabulous but ridiculously expensive filet mignon, no sides included. I don’t mind paying for a great meal, but geesh… don’t make me pay extra for potatoes and veg.
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I don’t care how full you are you can’t pass on their desserts.
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I took half home, but the hazelnut tiramisu was divine.
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And according to my fussy husband, their cheesecake is the best in the state. Caramel bourbon pear sauce…
Next to the cypress wetlands was the Port Royal museum. We love small local museums run by resident volunteers and always try to support them when we can.
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This local didn’t share any history with us, but he was all about a good neck scratch.
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Not St. Augustine, Florida.
Nope. That’s a common misconception. The Spanish actually settled Port Royal first, but it was abandoned a few years later due to lack of funds.
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This museum was tiny but filled with interesting things.
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Megalodon teeth… that you can apparently scavenge for on local beaches. Sign me up!
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15 million year old clam? That too.
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The docent had absolutely no idea what this was, but I’m there for it as well.
We’d had a busy day, and since I had one more waterfront walk on the schedule for the late afternoon I tried to hurry the husband along.
I think you can guess how that went.
Just when I almost had him out the door, the lovely lady who runs the museum suggested he might want to look at some military photo albums donated by a resident.
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Yes, they were interesting.
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Filled with heart warming pics…
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As well as the horrors of war.
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Most were taken during WWII and Korea. And while I appreciated her sharing them with us, I wasn’t as thrilled with the hour long conversation that followed.
Vacation time is limited!
Schedules must be kept.
As the sun was going down, I finally dragged him out of the building and we headed for the boardwalk.
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Tiptoeing through the seagulls we made our way forward.
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It’s a popular fishing spot next to the marshes and offers a long stretch of easy walking with a viewing tower.
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Of course it was getting dark and the wind had ratcheted up to a howl which made it less than comfortable.
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We only climbed to the first level of the three level tower…
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The higher you went… the stronger and colder the winds. One quick picture and I called it good.
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The sun was setting and we needed to get back on the road.
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As you can see, our giant rental beast dwarfed all the other vehicles in the parking area.
Since I’m not on board with any of the hideous fabrics associated with the living room set my husband chose, shopping continues.
I stepped it up a notch last week and took him to an Ethan Allen showroom. And aside from the fact it was the smallest store we’d been to, they only had one hard backed sofa.
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Which was too low, too square and too soft for my Goldilocks spouse.
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Factor in most of their couches were over $5,000 a piece, even the simple ones like this, and it was a hard pass.
Next up was the store where I started my search with my girlfriend a few months ago. They had two sets I thought might work.
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But Mr, Picky vetoed this one because of the T shaped couch cushions.
Really?
At this point I thought he was just being obstinate on purpose and didn’t want new furniture. But when I brought him to set #2….
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Hard backed, rolled full arms, not too deep, available with firm cushions.
Could it be?
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A long discussion was had with the (very patient) salesman about features and quality…
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These arms were an eighth of an inch different in size… noticeable to no one on earth except my husband who worked quality control in the Marine Corps.
But despite the glaring anomaly, the husband agreed that this set might work. They even had the pattern he’d picked out at a previous store, seen on the back of the chair above.
I vetoed that as it was probably too light for our white walls and rather liked this one.
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When I asked if I could bring a few swatches home, I was told yes… for a price. For a deposit of $50 each I came home with 5. The $263 to be refunded to my card when I returned them.
Geesh.
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Lord Dudley seemed partial to this one.
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But as I suspected…. it’s too light and bright for our all white walls not to mention my husband’s feet on an ottoman.
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I need more contrast of color and though I really didn’t want blue….
Work moved on to the three remaining windows that needed replacing in our bedroom and as with every single other project we attempt in this house, it was a monumental f*ck up.
These are the old windows, stripped of trim and ready to be removed.
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Yes, that’s snow you see outside.
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Ideal conditions for exterior work.
Not.
The trouble began when the first small window was removed and its replacement was fitted.
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The problem? It didn’t fit.
Because it was too big.
Incorrect measurements by our contractor? He says no and has the paperwork to prove it.
Incorrect measurements by the retailer? They say no and have the paperwork to prove it.
Incorrect measurements by the manufacturer? They say they built what they were told and refuse to refund and replace.
Solution… (other than pulling my hair out, stripping naked, dousing myself in tequila and running down the road cursing the home renovation Gods?) … cut bigger holes in the wall.
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It wasn’t that much bigger. Maybe and inch and a quarter on each side but it meant (what has now become my mantra) more time, more work, more money. Not to mention a tighter fit when it comes to trim.
And after that first window rough opening was enlarged and the slightly larger window fitted and secured?
Let’s take a look at what’s been clogging up my photo files.
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My pickle algorithm has been on vacation lately, but this showed up the other day. I was hoping it was a joke… but sadly it does exist.
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I totally need this. And actually already have a little makeup case like the one in her left hand. Unfortunately mine is a lovely shade of mustard instead of green.
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This poem always gets me.
😰
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From my local FB page.
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Never a dull moment here.
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One thousand and two uses.
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These aren’t my pictures but they were taken in Maine and are too fabulous not to share.
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I’ve never seen a sunrise or sunset like this.
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There’s probably a meteorological term for it, but all I can say is… wow.
The only place on Parris Island that really sparked my husband’s memory was the parade deck.
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It was a cold and windy day but he wanted to walk the entire thing.
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The fancy grandstand wasn’t there in his day.
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But he remembers being drilled and marched until he couldn’t see straight. D.I.’s screaming, recruits passing out from the heat, being overwhelmed and overtired, getting slapped when he said yes sir.
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He swore he’d forget his mother’s name before his drill instructor’s.
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The required selfie, wind blowing so hard I had hair in my mouth.
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I walked around the Iwo Jima Statue and left the husband alone with his memories.
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Those bricks he’s looking at are memorials. Engraved with the names of fallen Marines. A lot of the boys he went through boot camp with never came back from Vietnam. I think my husband sometimes wonders why he was the lucky one…
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A while later we finished our tour of the base.
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And decided to stop at the PX for a bite to eat.
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Naturally, the food court was closed. But I was cold and wanted to buy a sweatshirt so we shopped.
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The husband really wanted this funky bottle of vodka for the man cave bar.
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We even tried to find a small box and some bubble wrap to smuggle it in his suitcase on the flight home… but no luck. The saleswoman said we could order it online but in Maine it’s illegal to mail liquor.
Boo to that.
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Moving on, the husband checked out the price of Dress Blues.
And when we passed the challenge coins? I had to laugh.
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Two full rows of Trump still for sale, while Obama and Biden were almost sold out.
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It was a good morning.
My husband always wanted to go back and I’ve always wanted to see the place he talks about with such reverence.
❤️
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 