Category Archives: Uncategorized

With apologies to the yoga follower I deleted.

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You know the drill… if you’re a business blog and are trying to sell me something? You’re history.

This goes for the slew of robotic self help sites as well. I’m as good as I’m ever going to get. I’ve accepted that… they should as well.

So yes, I zapped a yoga promoting site that followed me recently… but not before I checked out their page.

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Yoga? No thanks. The days of twisting my body into a pretzel are long gone. The husband isn’t happy about that either…. but what are ya gonna do?

But beer? There’s an exercise routine I fully support.

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Drinking beer and posing? Heck, I’ve been doing that for years!

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Beer.

I always figured it went with everything. But yoga?

Who knew!

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Still showing a girl a good time.

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My husband, the king of romance.

Since we haven’t done any traveling this year due to the global plague, my wonderful spouse suggested we take a ride up the coast one warm afternoon last week. I readily agreed and dressed appropriately.

I was a little surprised to hear him pulling the truck out of the garage instead of the Beemer, but he loves that old thing and I figured he wanted to run her for a spell.

I should have known.

Where did my thoughtful husband take me on our relaxing ride up the coast?

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To one of the few remaining bring anything and everything you want to throw out dumps that are still open during the pandemic.

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And while I’m thrilled there are still things he’s willing to relinquish, this wasn’t the leisurely waterfront cruise I had in mind.

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Romance.

I think it’s well and truly dead.

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No one said it would be easy Part 2.

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Leaving the niece’s new/used car with our mechanic to be worked on, we went to lunch at our local pub. I was two Cosmopolitans in and tackling dessert…

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( A scrumptious apple cinnamon crunch cake a la mode with accompanying hard cider)

… when the niece told us she actually hadn’t registered her car yet because when she went to the DMV the day before? She forgot the paperwork. Mind you she’s telling us this on a Friday afternoon, the day her temporary plates run out.

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Teenagers. You can’t kill ’em, but Lord knows it takes a lot of restraint.

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And what made it even worse? Her legal address is the Island where I spent my teenage years. She had to register it there. Did I mention the only way to get to the Island is by boat?

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We flew down I 95, put her on the 2:25 ferry with strict instructions she do nothing but register the damn car and come back on the 3:45. This left me and the husband with over an hour to kill.

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Yeah, you knew that’s where this was going.

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Two lovely Harvest Sangrias later…

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At one of our favorite watering holes.

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There was creamy clam chowder…

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And mussels with white wine and garlic drenched tomatoes.

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If we’d stayed longer I might have been tempted to play with their cider combinations.

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But it was 3:30 and I’d already had 5 toddies that day.

*Hic*

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Was that fish fleshed out when we went in…?

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Anyway, long story long… the teenager was finally legal with her very first license plates.

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Her car had been successfully tinkered with, her oil was changed and the next morning we gave her a AAA gift membership and 4 brand new tires.

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At which point I said, we’re done… and welcome to the wonderful world of car ownership. Tons of fun, but lots of responsibility as well.

❤️

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Utterly random stuff.

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In my dreams, I’m a proof reader. It’s the perfect job because someone would pay me to read all day and find mistakes. Like this one I just found in a John Grisham novel.

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Did he really loved the office? I don’t think so.

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That’s a good question. Nothing worse than a greedy hog.

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Anyone want to purchase our 4 year old water pump? My husband thinks the buyers be lining up and made me list it on 6 various sites. No offers yet… and I can’t say I’m shocked.

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Bourbon toothpicks? Yes please!

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Maine brewers come up with some interesting names for their beers.

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And if you think that’s bad?

Here’s my husband wearing the t shirt at the Sebago Lake Brewfest a few years ago.

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No one said it would be easy.

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Otherwise known as – the teenage car saga continues.

So if you’ve been following the drama, we spent the last 2 months searching for and finally buying a decent first used car for our 19 year old niece. She was given 14 day plates and I repeatedly told her not to wait until the last minute to insure and register her new toy. She assured me she had it under control… which should have set my alarm bells ringing.

It’s a decent 2012 Subaru, but a few things needed to be tinkered with so we made an appointment with our friend/trusted mechanic for last Friday morning. Niece was supposed to be at our house at 9:30am.

At 8:31am she calls, in tears.

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I could hardly understand what she said in between sobs and was terrified she had an accident. Nope, she was fine. Had she hit a cat, a dog, a wombat…? Nope, no roadkill. More waterworks poured, so I gave the phone to husband. All he could get out of her was the car wouldn’t run, so we drove an hour south to find her parked behind a bank looking pitiful.

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She told us she left her college, stopped at a light and when she tried to accelerate nothing happened. If that’s the case I don’t know how she got to the bank down the road… but whatever, she’s 19. 💩 happens.

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Husband got in the car, started it up, no problem. He put it in gear… no problem. He popped the hood and checked the engine, no problem. He drove it an hour north…. flying down I95 at 90mph, no problem.

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Our mechanic couldn’t find anything wrong either, though he did mention something about a sticky butterfly.

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After he said it was nothing to worry about, and told her what to do if it happened again, I tuned out because I caught sight of this:

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His 1960 Corvette convertible getting a little touch up.

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Ooh la la! I love this car.

He bought it for $1,000 in 1970 and she only has 44,000 original miles.

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That’s my definition of sweet!

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To be continued.

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The Photo Ark

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Have you heard of Joel Sartore?

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Arctic Fox.

If not, let me rectify that.

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Tiger Striped Tree Frog.

Joel has made it his mission in life to photograph the approximately 12,000 species living in zoos and wildlife sanctuaries.

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Brown Throated Sloth.

But Joel’s photographs are different.

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Springbok Mantis.

They’re special.

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Mandrill.

Because they’re portraits.

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Spectacled Eiders.

Stunning portraits of glorious diversity.

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California Sea Lion.

Joel believes if we see these marvelous creatures… we’ll feel something.

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Andean Condor.

We’ll care.

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Sumatran Rhinoceros.

And if we care, we’ll fight to preserve not only them, but the habitats they need to thrive.

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DeBrazza’s Monkey.

Joel is my hero. And I’ve bought all 3 of his incredible books.

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As I make my way through them, I’m going to share some of his work.

Because they make me feel.

Because they make me care.

Not all of the animals are beautiful.

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Common Warthog.

But all of them are perfect… and worth protecting.

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Products no one needs.

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My only question is why anyone makes these things in the first place.

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I prefer my clams in chowder with heavy cream thank you very much.

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Oh, hell no. I can only drink if the BeeGees are playing?

Trust me, if the BeeGees are playing…. I’ll need more not less.

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I’m sorry, but they don’t. Less really is more.

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While this is rather cute? It’s also a great way to take out an eye. Weaponized mallows are over the top, even for me.

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No. Aside from the fact the packaging seems to be marketed for 6 year old girls…

I refuse to wear a perfume named Juicy Bunny on sheer principle.

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Barn, Belgian beer and Brussel sprouts.

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We were back in the barn this weekend and ran the new heat pump for the first time. It’s a big space so it took a while to warm up… but the building held the set temperature all day, which means all our stuff and seal each and every god damn gap insulation work…

Worked.

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But there were still a few more windows to trim and that’s when things went downhill.

There was sputtering, mumbling, cursing and okay…. small pieces of wood may or may not have been flung across the room.

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When the wood started flying? I knew it was time for a distraction… so I trudged down to our crap filled underground nightmare basement and retrieved a treasure we purchased a few years ago.

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A neon bar sign from the Ommegang brewery in New York. We stumbled on them when we visited the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown and fell in love with their Belgians.

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https://www.ommegang.com/

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If you’re ever in the area, check out their tasting room in the old barn… and if you’re visiting this time of year? Try my favorite.

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There’s a tavern in Brussels famous for it’s pigeon racing?

Sounds like my kind of place.

And speaking of Brussels…

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When you live across the street from an organic vegetable farmer?

You never know what will show up on your doorstep in the morning.

👍

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