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I don’t know if this is true…
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But I’m really hoping it is.
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Baby Yoda cocktails? Fabulous. Telling me about them and not posting a recipe? Cruel.
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And since we’ve all had enough of the last election horror show?
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Wilbur is pretty stinking cute. And when’s the last time you said that about a presidential candidate?
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Poop cookies.
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Admit it, you know someone who deserves a dozen or so of those.
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I knew it would probably happen, but it doesn’t make it any easier to take.
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Our little blue eyed Bambi is all alone now.
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We haven’t seen his mother, the old always pregnant doe, for weeks. She was nearly skeletal the last time she visited and I think her poor old body just had enough.
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I’m glad she taught the little guy this was a safe place for his daily nosh. I just hope he can hook up with the rest of the herd before the full brunt of winter sets in. There’s safety in numbers when you’re a little fella.
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I’m going to continue to share photos from this marvelous book until you get tired of them and ask me to stop.
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Oncilla.
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Okay, maybe not even then. But I do promise to consider it.
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Hibernating arctic ground squirrels.
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Wish I could send our red squirrel from Hell to the arctic circle for a long winter’s nap.
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Gee’s Golden Langur.
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Tell me you don’t see the humanity in that portrait. I dare you.
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Giant Anteater and pup.
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Love the giant anteater! I could totally see one of those curled up on the couch beside me.
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Himalayan Griffon.
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You have to love a bird who can rock a feather boa. It’s not an easy look to pull off.
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Choctawhatchee Beach Mouse.
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Hang in there little mouse. We’ve all been there.
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Common Spider Crab.
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Mother Nature is marvelous.
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Coquerel’s Sifaka.
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No doubt about it.
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Because thankfully I can still laugh.
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Dogs are thrilled their owners are staying home. Cats? Not so much.
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*Shudders at the thought*
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It’s been a rough year for everyone.
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Thank God we have a refrigerator in the barn filled with tests.
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No comment necessary.
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Feed me Seymour!!!
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Facebook has given me a wonderful Christmas gift.
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My usual Ball Wash ads have been replaced by silly pet costumes.
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Never mind the fact we don’t currently have a dog…
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Or have ever bought one of these shamefully humiliating outfits.
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I’m just glad to see an end to the scrotum cleaning products.
Ho! Ho! Ho!
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Livestock run amok in my town…. as witnessed by a flurry of recent Facebook postings.
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Poor goat, he’s just lonesome.
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Goat tracking is a wonderful thing.
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Uh oh, now the law is involved.
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Apparently this isn’t a first for local law enforcement.
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Pie rewards. Ya gotta love it.
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Benny Hill music would be the perfect accompaniment to guard rail hopping goats.
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When your community is requesting goats in heat? You know things are about to get real.
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Goat Busters. Where do I sign up?
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Goats in tutus? Yes, please.
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If the goat shows up at our backyard buffet, I shall report back.
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Cats rule.
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Thank you kitty, I’ve always hated that elf.
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Ah, Facebook. Why your algorithms think I’m in constant need of this product is a mystery I fear I’ll never solve.
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On the bright side, packing for that trip won’t take as long this year.
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Yes Karen… He’s talking to you.
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Chicken Godzilla. Rampaging through a Christmas village near you…
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It’s 2020…. kiss your visions of sugarplums goodbye.
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I dislike Pepsi and find it sickeningly sweet.
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So Apple Pie Pepsi? That’s a hard pass.
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While this sounded like a cute idea?
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The aesthetics leave a lot to be desired. That looks less like a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie and more like a mouth filled with…. well, never mind.
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Sorry, but my cabinet doors aren’t playing loud music past 10:00 pm or yelling at their husband to pick up his dirty socks. No noise suppression is required.
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First they want me to exercise with rubber bands, now they want me to wrap them around my mattress? I’ll tell you right now…. neither one of those things will be happening anytime soon.
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No.
Just, no.
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That’s the sound my checkbook made when we drove down to the design studio to purchase the custom made bar chairs my husband had his heart set on.
We met the two very pleasant Lithuanian immigrants who own the business and found they do interesting work.
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Their furniture is starting to catch on and has been written up in numerous magazines.
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Maine restaurants and businesses have contracted large orders….
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And its only thanks to Covid that they considered a small order like ours.
These are the 30 inch swivel pub chairs my husband fell in love with.
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Made from 120 year old reclaimed barn boards and strong enough to seat an African elephant, they’re remarkably comfortable as well.
The designers explained it would take 6 weeks to make our 6 chairs because they just had to lay off most of their people due to the virus. A huge order from L.L. Bean had been cancelled, which while bad news for them… was great news for us.
They were even kind enough to let us take a sample chair home for a test run.
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We sidled it up next to the (still unfinished since the contractor seems to have taken a powder) bar and the height was perfect.
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I’m hoping to match the front facing of the bar to one of the medium shades on the chair.
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If the builder ever decides to return.
A few days later when we brought the chair back, I decided I needed some matching shelves for my liquor bottles.
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They’ll look like these. The wood will match the chairs… which pleases me, and the brackets will be made from old railroad spikes… which pleases the husband.
Two shelves on either side of the bar window for a total of four. What the hell. If you’re going to do it, do it right.
Ka-Ching!
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An old drill found its way to a table.
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And it was discovered the husband’s neon bar sign cord was one foot too short.
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Refusing to be beaten…. he spent an hour clipping it, and a small extension cord, tightly around the window.
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I can hardly believe this is the same man who looks at me like I’ve lost my mind if I tuck a cord behind a curtain.
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If I could get him to be half as interested in our house as he is in this barn, I’d be a happy woman.
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Window sills are actively displaying bar coasters.
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And there are now ample places to rest your beer.
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River's world..... 