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Headlines from my little corner of the world.
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Bring Your Goat to Work Day probably isn’t a real thing, but damn … it should be.
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Excellent ad copy Jason. If I ever need help getting plowed, you’re the man.
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Busted!
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That’s black gold right there. Highly sought after…
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Because it appears I’m never going to run out of these.
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Here are mine:
Literally.
People say literally when they mean figuratively and it drives me nuts. “ It’s so hot I am literally on fire.” Unless I see flames shooting out of a body cavity? You meant figuratively.
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I could care less.
Could you? Then that means you cared in the first place. The proper phrasing is ‘I couldn’t care less’, please use it.
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Must not have been very important.
This one dates back to my childhood. Whenever I would forget something I wanted to tell my mother she would smugly utter those words and I always wanted to scream, “Now I remember! The kitchen is on fire.”
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So how about you? What words or phrases drive you nuts….
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Required sex warning – the following contains explicit excerpts from one seriously wacky book. Continue at the risk of disturbing mental images.
As you already know, the male member, its malfunctions and various cures feature heavily in this series.
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Because sometimes you feel like pumping, and sometimes you don’t.
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I’m not a man and therefor have no physical frame of reference… but is perpetual half mast really where men want to be?
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The Smithsonian has a penis bone collection? Why doesn’t this surprise me..
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It seems Thai women are not to be screwed with. Or Thai ducks either for that matter..
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The little man in the boat? I can’t even….
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It makes you wonder just how much suction one man could need. And remember, I did warn you about mental images.
🤣
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Woke up this morning to an odd light in our front yard.
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The sun was shining through little peaks in the clouds and it was positively eerie.
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This being Sunday, it was my day to cook for the weekly man cave pool tournament… but this time, I took your advice.
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Fresh ham salad and chicken salad sandwiches on flaky croissants.
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With fruit plate accompaniment. Pretty… and so much less time consuming.
👍
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As seen on Route 1 in Arundal, Maine last week.
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A 1936 Studebaker with rumble seat passengers.
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How fun is that!
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This month’s calendar factoid introduced me to a strange bird.
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I dare say a lot of wives have the same problem.
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On seeing that cartoon I thought, that can’t be right.
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But it turns out they weren’t far off.
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That’s one strange song, for sure.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten enjoys his outdoor time, though he’s still restricted to the leash. Our walking excursions usually consist of me standing and him sitting, but fresh air is fresh air and now that the weather is warming up he’s constantly howling to be taken into the great outdoors. Does he avidly explore his environs?
No…
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He face plants on the lawn and stays that way. His Lordship is an odd bird, what can I say?
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Walking a cat can be challenging, predominately because they don’t actually want to walk.
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They want to crawl under things and sit which leaves me with a plethora of butt shots.
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I didn’t pee on my garden before I read this, but rest assured I shall be passing it along to my husband who has been known to relieve himself off the barn porch.
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I have never in my life urinated on a lawn and I don’t plan to start now. But men can be very dog like when it comes to marking their territory as evidenced by this photo of a conspicuous patch of dead lawn adjacent to the barn porch.
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Apparently that goes for grass as well.
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After our delightfully boozy lunch at the Boathouse we took a scenic drive along the coast of Kennebunkport.
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It’s a beautiful area…
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Wild and windswept.
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With some seriously gorgeous waterfront homes.
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Needless to say it’s a little out of our tax bracket.
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But with President Bush’s summer home at Walker’s Point for neighbors….
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That’s not the least bit surprising.
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(Title should be sung to Lesley Gore’s ‘It’s My Party’ melody for full effect)
This is a scraggly flowering plum tree my husband transplanted to our backyard a few years ago.
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It’s hanging on to life but isn’t nearly as full as it used to be…. so when I saw a brown tail moth web in one of the top branches, I carefully gloved up, cut it out and burned it.
If you’ve never heard of these evil little bastards, read on…
The browntail moth caterpillar has tiny poisonous hairs that cause dermatitis similar to poison ivy on sensitive individuals. People may develop dermatitis from direct contact with the caterpillar or indirectly from contact with airborne hairs. The hairs become airborne from either being dislodged from the living or dead caterpillar or they come from cast skins with the caterpillar molts. Most people affected by the hairs develop a localized rash that will last for a few hours up to several days but on some sensitive individuals the rash can be severe and last for several weeks. The rash results from both a chemical reaction to a toxin in the hairs and a physical irritation as the barbed hairs become embedded in the skin. Respiratory distress from inhaling the hairs can be serious.
The browntail moth is an invasive species found only on the coast of Maine and Cape Cod. This moth is an insect of both forest and human health concern.
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I’ve been covered in their nasty rash multiple times before and trust me it is beyond awful. No amount of Benadryl, cortisone or calamine lotion can relieve the itch. It’s like poison ivy times 50 and makes you want to take a wire brush to your skin. So when I say I was careful? I was careful. Gloves, long sleeves, limited contact and proper destruction.
But still….
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I got a mild dose and am completely miserable.
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Both my arms, stomach and back are speckled with rash because once those little microscopic hairs find you and you take a shower? You’ll gladly take sandpaper to every inch of your flesh.
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River's world..... 