All posts by Rivergirl

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Please don’t tell my husband.

 

At one time or another my husband has collected all of the following:

Bottles, playing cards, coins, rusty farm implements, stamps, egg coddlers, antique mitre saws, Life magazines, Coca Cola memorabilia, post cards, baseball bats, radios, toy cars, fishing lures, vintage board games, alabaster eggs, crackle glass, razors, old telephones, fire extinguishers, glass oil jugs, wooden hangers, milk crates, Fenton, mason jars, books, Tinker Toys, sleds, bean pots, grain scales, wooden skis, haying forks, lamp fixtures, cigar boxes, pencil sharpeners, apple peelers, grinding wheels, cast iron skillets, flour sifters, fishing rods, tennis rackets, flashlights and egg beaters.

 

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And no, I’m not exaggerating.

The sad part is, that’s probably not the entire list… but I’m cringing just thinking about it and had to stop. Or slaughter him in his sleep, and who needs that mess on a weeknight.

Kidding!

I think…

For the past 35 years if someone was selling it? He was buying it. And as soon as he had one? He wanted more. To which my response was always..

 

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We currently have an apple press, a wooden washing machine, a butter smoothing table, a potato planter and two 5 foot tall wagon wheel frames in our barn.

Why?

My answer is –

 

 

His answer is –

 

 

So when I read there’s now a market for old Kool Aid packets, and they’re selling for hundreds of dollars a piece?

 

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It’s true.

 

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It’s beyond ridiculous.

And if any of you tell my husband?

I will hunt you down and rip your tongue out through your nose.

 

 

 

P.S….

If the late 80’s and early 90’s are vintage…

What the hell am I?

 

 

So very disappointing.

 

I love it when I go grocery shopping and find a product that seems to be tailor made for me.

Witness River’s cookie heaven:

 

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Cookies…

That taste like cocktails!

 

 

I was a little disappointed to find there was a bag inside the bag and how very few cookies there actually were….

 

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But I figured that just meant they were extra special.

I was wrong.

So very, very wrong.

 

 

In fact…  these cookies were not only horrible, but probably one of the worst things I’ve ever tasted in my life.  And I’ve endured my MIL’s pot roast, so that’s saying something.

I mean Hell… it’s a cookie. By nature they’re flippin’ delightful!

How do you screw that up?

As I was bundling them up to throw away, I flipped over the package and noticed this:

 

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Fruitcake.

This company shipped 12,000 pounds of the most atrocious baked good ever invented to brave, battle weary soldiers.

 

 

I know!

Hadn’t those poor men suffered enough?

Of course it does explain the low quality cookie standard and my severe revulsion to their product.

 

 

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Maybe that’s the explanation.

The cookies were actually leftover fruitcake from 1943.

 

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Instructions on how to spend a very depressing day.

 

Step 1.   Hire an appliance repairman to diagnose why your ice maker died and the fridge isn’t cooling properly.

Step 2.   Pay said repairman $95 to walk through the door.

 

 

Step 3.  Cry a little when repairman tells you your  expensive AF   six year old refrigerator will be requiring burial rites in the very near future.

 

 

6 years old!

Too young to die… or so I thought.

According to the repairman, 6-8 years is now the average lifespan of new appliances.

 

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This makes me regret getting rid of the 1970’s almond Montgomery Ward fridge that came with our house when we moved in.

Ugly? Yes.

Fancy features? No.

But the damn thing still worked….. and now I miss it.

6 years.

 

 

For the love of God… she’s still shiny!

 

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She still looks new!

But apparently she’s rotten at the core.

 

 

Step 4.  Grab a girlfriend for consolation and proceed to the appliance stores to search for a suitable replacement.

Have you been to the appliance stores lately?

Even the clearance prices will make you faint.

 

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Mind you, that particular one had been returned, refurbished and was riddled with dents.

There’s lots to choose from, if you want to pay.

And pay. And pay…

 

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There are fancy French Door models.

Models with ridiculous features…

 

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And for the prices they’re charging?

I hope that one cooks, serves and cleans up the kitchen after marinating my meat.

 

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Herb storage?

 

 

One model even had a built in one of these –

 

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Yes.

An infuser pitcher, fitted right into the door. I paid $3.99 for mine… what do you want to bet this baby adds an extra $200 to the purchase price?

Step 5.  Go from store to store, avoiding salesmen and their high pressure “Oh, that sale ends today, better buy now!”  B.S….. never quite finding that perfect fridge that will fit in your crazy kitchen. ( We had to remove half a wall to fit my current one in. )

Step 6.  Have long booze filled lunch with girlfriend and curse refrigerator manufacturers.

 

 

Step 7.  Return home to melting ice and lukewarm milk.

Step 8.  Repeat steps 4 through 7 until replacement is found.

 

 

 

 

 

Things I like today…. chapter 3.

 

1.  Peonies!

 

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Great big colorful, heavily scented blooms.

 

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If you’ve never smelled one?

I’m sorry.

 

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They rival roses and lilacs for heavenly natural scent….

And I fill our house with them while I can.

 

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The husband’s little nephew used to call them Pee On Me’s.

 

 

But either way?

They’re glorious.

I like.

 

2.  The combination of wine and chocolate?

Always a winner.

 

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But actual wine flavored chocolate?

 

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Score!

Get yourself some immediately…. you won’t be sorry.

 

 

I like.

 

3.  A bean bag store that stacks their products like an ice cream cone?

 

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I like.

 

4.  Two for one jewelry.

 

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Buy a bracelet get a necklace…

 

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And they both look good.

 

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It’s true, I can.

Don’t hate me.

I like.

 

5.  A fox with attitude.

 

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This one stuck his tongue out at me.

Cheeky little bugger!

 

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I like.

 

Because when Rustoleum says red? They mean red.

 

Every few years it’s time to repaint the bulkhead doors.

 

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They’re metal and tend to see a lot of abuse.

Rain, snow, and baking sun all take their toll… and since the husband disappears every time the paint brushes come out?

 

 

The job falls to me.

I usually go out with some sandpaper to smooth and remove the flakes… but this spring the husband bought an old sander at a yard sale. Old.. with a capital O.

So he tossed it at me and said it would be much easier than my sandpaper.

 

 

From the look of the cord it was from the 1950’s…. and I think that was the poundage as well because just lifting it hurt my wrist. So when he came back to check my progress? I was using the sandpaper again.

Which… because he’s a man and can never be wrong… made him determined to prove his $5 purchase was worth while.

 

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He got no argument from me.

I stood back, nodded sagely and mumbled yes dear, that’s so much easier dear, at appropriate intervals.

Momma didn’t raise no fool.

 

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He sanded that baby from top to bottom.

 

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Inside and out… even though I rarely paint the interior.

BTW, if you search Google images for power sander memes?

 

birdie

 

Anyway… when we moved into this house, the doors were painted a barn red so that’s what I’ve always repainted them.

Until this year, when I couldn’t find my usual brand of metal paint in barn red and went with Rustoleum’s Regal Red.

 

 

It was a bad idea.

Very bad.

Really, really bad.

Because when Rustoleum says red?

 

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They mean red!

Fire engine red.

Candy apple red.

Holy Crap that’s redRED!

It’s positively blinding.

 

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On the bright side, the doors do now match my hanging geranium.

 

 

A Blogiversary.

 

Happy 1rst blogiversary to me!

 

 

A little more enthusiasm would be nice but yes, it’s been one year to the day since I joined WordPress.

And while I certainly wasn’t a blog virgin….

 

 

It did take a little time for me to adjust to my new home.

WordPress is a larger and more diverse platform than my previous sites, and though it’s also filled with more businesses and spam than I was used to…. I admit I’m enjoying it more as well.

 

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Blogging means different things to different people and my posts have certainly changed over the years. They used to be filled with personal details, family strife, and raw emotion …. but I was burned by that.

 

 

And switched to a light hearted, irreverent look at the world instead.

 

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Yes.

That book really exists…

“Go behind the exam room door to experience the secret lives of doctors and patients. Enjoy Pap parties. Meet the Chlamydia Clown. Win a free kitten with your physical! In this laugh-till-you-cry health care handbook, you’ll learn how fun it is to be a doctor–and a patient.”
I haven’t read it…
But feel I should, and report back.

 

Finding a tribe of like minded odd balls has helped me settle in here.

 

 

So to all of you slightly disturbed souls I call friends…

The loons who regularly tune in for my mindless drivel?

 

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I shall endeavor to provide more of the same high quality nonsense…

And continue to answer some of life’s most difficult questions.

 

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You’re never to old to learn…. Tin Cans.

 

The new adult educational booklet for our area was delivered today and I’m  dumbfounded anyone would pay money for this crap  very excited for the next round of classes!

Last season we had :

You’re never too old to learn…. Spoons.

You’re never to old to learn…. Potatoes.

You’re never too old to learn…. Ukulele

You’re never too old to learn…. Chakra Toning.

You’re never too old to learn…. Mindfulness.

 

And this season?

We’ll start with a class about tin cans.

 

 

Yes, Tom. It’s true.

In Maine you can take a class that teaches you how to turn a tin can into a stove.

 

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You’re welcome.

You can stop reading other blogs now, it won’t get any stupider than this.

 

 

tin can

 

I mean, come on…

When was the last time you fit a stove in your backpack?

 

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Point taken. That kid might be able to…

But for the rest of us taking the class means that can of baked beans we had for dinner last night could be heating up our outdoor meals for months to come.

 

 

No, I wasn’t thinking of that particular heat source.

But then, I wasn’t thinking of this either when I searched Google….

 

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Damn, that disturbing.

And it certainly makes their ad slogan a bit suspect….

 

 

beans

 

 

Maybe you should use a Campbell’s soup can instead.

It worked for Warhol.

 

 

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Coastal trip, part deux.

 

Belfast, Maine.

 

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Population  – 6,668.

 

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Once Abenaki Indian territory,  it was used by Native Americans to fish and hunt for water fowl in the summer months.

 

 

Afraid so.

Sorry…

 

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Burned by the British in 1779, rebuilt and incorporated as a city in 1850.

 

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A thriving ship building center at the turn of the century, it grew and was prosperous. Until wooden ships became obsolete.

 

 

Thanks for clearing that up.

 

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Shoe manufacturing and poultry production took over until the recession of the 1970’s, when it fell on hard times.

 

 

Local people left in droves to find employment….

 

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As out of staters were beginning to discover the beauty of the Maine coast and started buying up prime property.

 

 

Today Belfast is part working waterfront…

 

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Part tourist destination.

 

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A quaint town, a scenic harbor…

 

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With various parks to enjoy the views.

 

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In lobster trap chairs…

 

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Or lobster topped benches.

 

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We had a tasty seafood lunch …..

 

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Complete with cocktails.

(Was there ever any doubt?)

 

 

And strolled the day away.

 

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Life is good…

 

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When you live in a such a beautiful place.

 

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Head for the coast…

 

When it’s hot in Maine? You head for the coast where the sea breeze cools the temperatures considerably.

So that’s what we did on the July 4th weekend.

We battled the tourist traffic on Route 1 and headed north with a cool and calm demeanor.

 

 

Seriously….. there’s a reason we call you people Massholes. You’re not going to find a barista on every corner in this state, please go back to Boston.

Boothbay Harbor was packed, so we kept going.

 

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Through downtown Rockland where they clearly wanted us to eat something. Hopefully not the building itself.

 

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And through downtown Camden where the cows are always smiling.

 

 

Camden is a gorgeous harbor town with lovely old homes lining both sides of the main street.

 

 

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This one always catches my eye…

 

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Not your typical New Englander to be sure.

 

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We wanted to stop for a drink and a bite in Lincolnville….

 

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But sadly the Whale’s Tooth Pub didn’t open till 4:00pm.

 

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So we ended up in Belfast, down by the harbor.

 

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Which is always a good choice.

To be continued…

 

 

Things I like today… chapter 2.

 

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A Maine woman is experimenting with weed to dull a lobster’s pain as he’s plunged into that boiling pot of water.

 

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There are worse ways to die than high.

 

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The article in case you want to read it:

Baked Lobster

I like.

 

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A local homemade R2D2 warning drivers to slow down.

 

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And this one reads in his spare time. Who knew?

I like.

 

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Rhododendron season.

 

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For a burst of pure color it’s hard to beat.

 

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I like.

The bees like…

 

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It’s all good.

 

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And finally…

 

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The dollar bill I received in change….

Complete with instructions on how not to spend it.

 

Nixon

 

I like.