I don’t like…
When my lunch stares back at me.
I don’t like that at all.
I don’t like…
A weather app that promotes kale.
That’s just wrong.
I don’t like…
Checking my spam folder and finding 31 ads for Amoxocillin.
Geesh, how infectious do they think I am?
Sunset from our front porch…
It never gets old.
If you haven’t read the sequel to The Handmaid’s Tale….
It does answer a lot of questions, though I can’t say I was in love with the ending.
If anyone can explain this exhaust system?
Please do… because I’m a bit baffled.
Yay for fall and all it’s ( don’t push winter it will be here soon enough) vodka flavors.
I see Mules in my future.
No, not that kind.
Although mine will probably have a kick as well.
It’s time to take a look at the riveting happenings posted on my town’s FB page again.
There are the usual missing critter reports.
Though pigs have taken a back seat to birds this week.
Snakes are actively being sought.
As are nuts.
*Note to male readers – I do not support the crushing of nuts between your legs. No letters, please.*
Artful pumpkins are being carved…
And grapes are plentiful.
Syrup is available.
As are extremely round sheep.
Then there’s the woman who wants everyone to watch a program about garbage.
Garbage…
You’re doing it wrong.
Talk about your out of the way tourist attraction.
Damn.
I kept directing the husband to drive and he kept thinking I was nuts. This place was in the back of beyond, on a dead end road, past a bunch of men with rifles taking target practice in their front yards.
Banjo music? A distinct possibility…
But once we found it, I was glad we persisted.
ARE YOU READY FOR SOME ROCKS? *she sings in her best Hank Williams Jr. voice, which admittedly… is pretty lame*
Rocks!
To be more specific… glacial melt water sculpted rocks.
And what fabulous rocks they were.
Seriously… these rocks rocked.
The forms, the shapes…
Can you imagine the force it took to do this to solid rock?
These were impressive rocks.
And even if you’re not an aficionado like me….
You have to admit, they’re some pretty special hunks of rock.
By the way…
The husband’s ongoing challenge?
Still going.
So to speak.
Done with the caves, we thought we were done with the park but there was still a little left to explore.
A nature path through the woods.
Leading past a sugar shack…
And an old tree.
Do I post fascinating stuff or what?
Stop that!
There was a rock set up for climbing….
As well as one with some munchies on top.
And you know what?
Still better than kale.
We kept hiking.
Up some rocks…
And some stairs…
And oh boy! The husband’s face says it all…
More stairs.
To be honest there wasn’t much more to see. But we found a gazebo on our way back down… with rather questionable graffiti.
Okay.
I’m not sure that needed be to advertised…. but whatever floats your boat.
One more smooth path down…
And we neared the exit.
Where I had to stop and feed those precious European fallow deer again.
Such little cuties.
Polar Caves… the end!
Half a day experiencing it , 5 days blogging about it.
Say what you want about me… (and I’m sure you will)
You can’t say I’m not thorough.
As so often happens in life, we came to a fork in the road.
Mind you, by this time we’d climbed 6,492,745 steps…. so the fact that the sign to the left said difficult route? Did not fill me with joy.
But ever the supportive wife, I let the husband decide which path we’d take. Thankfully his aching back and residual sciatica made him veer right, although the name Devil’s Turnpike didn’t inspire a lot of confidence as to it’s ease of use.
Husband explored more caves.
I photographed more trees and rocks.
And climbed more steps.
And then even more steps.
And then thought about all the steps I’d have to climb down when we were through.
Did I mention there were a lot of steps?
There were a lot of steps.
Okay, back to the rocks.
Why is there never a pogo stick around when you need one?
We walked past rocks, over rocks, through rocks….
And occasionally under rocks.
While praying silently for the ground to be earthquake free.
Yeah, thanks for that helpful factoid.
As the husband climbed the Devil’s Turnpike…..
And entered the next cave…
I took the path that had my name written all over it.
All day long baby…
I do give him credit though.
He’s still pretty limber for his age…
One final cave to go… and it was called the Lemon Squeeze.
Yours truly?
Yup. Every party has a pooper… and that day, it was me.
Oddly enough the Squeeze was the husband’s downfall. He couldn’t do it. Too small, too tight.
And you know if he got stuck? He was staying there…. because I wasn’t going in after him.
The caves.
I’d like to tell you I explored them all.
But I’d be lying.
They were tiny, cramped, straight down and seriously dark.
So yours truly let the husband crawl through them while I took the bypasses above ground.
I know, a post about caves from above the caves doesn’t sound very satisfying….
But does that look at all comfortable?
I still got to walk through rocks…
And without all the bumps, bruises and scrapes the husband amassed that day.
Although there were some dead ends.
I’m not sure who named the caves…
But there certainly were a lot of them.
And some of the exits were awesome.
Damn!
That’s a lot of rock.
Husband was happy as a clam. He used to go caving as a kid and it probably brought back some good memories. You know, like terror… and claustrophobia.
He kept trying to talk me into going down there with him, but when I peered down into the blackness?
I looked something like this….
Just….
No.
I think he was a little nervous after reading the name of this one …
But he shimmied through quite well.
Then turned around and asked for my extra camera. (Pardon his language. Sh*t is a favorite word lately)
I left him happily exploring and snapping pictures in the dark… (which I won’t share with you because he can’t take a photo to save his life. They’re either blurry… or solid black) …and made my way around another bypass.
My appreciation for the people who built these boardwalks growing with each step.
Clearly no rock was harmed during the construction process.
Well done boardwalk designer.
Well done.
I had to laugh yesterday when I checked my stat page and saw that something called The Cape Cod Daily News was listed as a referrer.
Since we just got back from a trip to the Cape, (and yes, we tend to be talkers and meet a lot of people) I was wondering which one had found me.
Not to mention how.
Because while I am a girl, it may surprise you to learn that my real name is not actually River.
Shocking, I know.
And it’s not like I start conversations with strange people by saying, “You really should check out my blog at WordPress. There’s plenty of woodchuck drivel for everyone.”
So I perused the Cape Cod Daily News site and found this:
I had tagged Cape Cod, so they included my post.
Now I can only imagine the reaction of the poor native Cape Codders who clicked on it and found me channeling Khaled. That couldn’t have been pleasant.
And while I won’t tag Cape Cod this time… because let’s face it, I’m basically making fun of what they consider news…. the coastal cities residents are going to rue the day when Cape Cod Daily puts that action to work when I start my latest vacation series photo blitz.
There’s bound to be rocks.
Won’t they be thrilled?
Walking along a lovely path past a duck pond….
We found the covered bridge.
And kissed.
Continuing along the walkways…
We read the park’s history.
And decided what to do first.
Remember when I said this series would have a lot of rocks?
The rocks start now.
Matter of fact, this section was called the Rock Garden.
So clearly I’m not the only enthusiast.
I loved it.
It was like a moss covered fairy village with fabulously crafted wooden boardwalks.
Meticulously cut around the rocks.
I could have happily wandered there all day.
Rocks!
Some seriously big rocks.
Did I mention this was a rock garden….
And it was full of rocks?
I was loving it.
Though I admit getting a little tired from all the steps.
But the rocks….
They rocked.
As did the funky lichen, ferns and moss.
The steps?
My thighs said, not so much.
But we kept walking.
Through some seriously old rocks…
A veritable maze of old rocks.
Fern covered rocks!
And then we discovered the caves we’d come to see…
Were way up there.
The Polar Caves in Rumney, NH was one of the few tourist destinations on my list. While we usually prefer natural wild places, I’d read good reviews on this multi generational family run spot and figured we should check it out.
Happily we showed up on the last day of the year that they’re open and didn’t have to fight the crowds.
I knew I was going to like it when we saw a large oak tree in the parking lot with this sign underneath…
You have to appreciate that kind of thoughtfulness, if not their spelling.
I had my doubts after buying tickets in the ticky tacky gift shop and walking outside to find the usual giant Adirondak chair.
And when we saw the creepy anorexic polar bears?
I figured I’d made a mistake.
But the small petting zoo charmed me…
With it’s precious European fallow deer…
That we had to feed…
And pet.
I mean really…. could you resist that face?
They make the funniest noise when they vocalize, almost a squeak.
And after having his say, this guy almost fell asleep.
Look how small they are. I told the husband I could easily fit a couple in the barn, but he wasn’t amused.
There were also some gorgeous Chinese pheasants.
Although they were hard to photograph due to the cages and a moat around the outside that keeps pesky children’s fingers away.
The tails on the males were pretty impressive.
As were their colors.
But this little guy stole my heart.
Look at him…
He’s a Dr. Seuss bird come to life!
River's world..... 