All posts by Rivergirl

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Welcome to the family… I think.

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Meet our new family member.

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The cat my husband swore we wouldn’t have any more of after our last one passed because he wanted to be free to travel.

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This handsome fellow has been wandering our neighborhood (in the cold Maine winter!) for weeks. A woman down the road took him in, but her dogs kept attacking.

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Our farming neighbors across the street took him in, but they have 4 cats, 2 dogs and 3 kids in a 1,000 square foot house…. so they begged us to shelter him.

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The husband said yes, temporarily while we tried to find his owners.

He’s clean, healthy, flea and ear mite free… and a genuine love bug. Someone clearly cared for this kitty. But after posting on numerous lost pet sites, numerous local Facebook pages and asking everyone I know? It looks like he’s ours.

And the husband who said no way, no more pets?

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Yeah.

He’s been charmed.

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And to think it only took three days.

Such is the power of cats.

💕

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I think we need a wombat, because the goat thing has already been done.

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Meet Frankie Rae.

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Apparently he’s becoming a rather famous goat.

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How pathetic is it that a goat has more fans than I do?

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On second thought, he’s more photogenic, so it might make sense.

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So maybe the husband and I should get a wombat, and when we feel comfortable traveling again… I can feature the cuddly creature in my posts.

Could I share my dinner with a wombat?

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Sure.

Could I share my bed with a wombat?

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I don’t see why not.

Could I stage wombat-centric wilderness pictures?

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Of course.

Granted, the goat will one up us during the holidays …

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But uniqueness is key. And I dare you to find you another blogger who has a traveling wombat.

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Eleanor

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I’m knee deep in an extremely detailed and comprehensive biography of a fascinating First Lady.

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How detailed and comprehensive you ask?

698 pages worth. It weighs a ton!

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While I don’t usually read biographies, this tome has enough action, scandal, politics, intrigue, and history to satisfy fans of any genre.

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I thought I knew a lot about Nell.

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I was wrong.

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Is it wrong?

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Is it wrong that I’m taking great pleasure from whipping my other half in our weekly Scrabble games in the Barn Mahal?

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Round after round.

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Day after day.

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Do I chortle every time it happens? Yes.

But come on… he skunks me at pool. He murders me at darts. I don’t think I’ve ever beaten him at Monopoly, Risk or chess. But when it comes to contests of trivia or anything word related?

I rule.

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And yes, I take perverse pleasure in the victories.

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Enough already.

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It rained again, in January, in Maine. That’s not supposed to happen. Most years we’re positively buried in snow.

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And I have to say I’d much rather be doing this…

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Than dealing with this…

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It rained…. and our roof sprung yet another leak.

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In yet another brand new spot. Every time the husband thinks he’s fixed it? It leaks somewhere else. And while the temperature has been mild (for us) it’s still not warm enough to strip and replace a roof. So while we wait for spring and pray for snow, our ceiling is being ruined. I’ve bleached this 3 times …

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And it still bleeds through.

Kill me now.

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25th is silver, so 37th must be …. platypus?

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The husband and I recently celebrated 37 blissful (read – we haven’t killed each other yet) years of marriage.

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And because he’s a sweetie, a bouquet of flowers was delivered.

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And to my most divine pleasure, it contained colors other than green.

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Required cheesy old photograph of the happy couple.

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And yes, along with the lovely flowers was a platypus.

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Because after 37 years? He gets me.

💕

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