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But sometimes it makes me laugh.
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And here I didn’t even know my vulva wanted a spa day.
A lot of the comments were negative.
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But then there was this one… and I’m dying.
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Ball wash!
Guess I’m not the only one getting those annoying ads.
🤣
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Not wanting to kill each so late in the day, we saved assembly of the kegerator until Saturday morning. Relaxing weekend my *ss. 🥴
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The first step on the way to cold beer was finding a place to fill the (brand new and shiny apple red!) CO2 tank required for tapping a keg. Had I known it would not be coming back home with us, I would have taken its picture. So clean and pretty! But alas in our part of the world no one fills CO2 tanks, they just exchange them. So bye bye lovely sparkling new red tank, and hello old, scuffed, ugly metal version.
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The regulator was easy to attach, and the husband managed to do it without blowing himself up … so I call that a win.
Next up was clamping the hoses to the keg couplers. They came with 4 of these ridiculous plastic things….
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Only one of which worked.
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Husband promptly broke the other 3 then stormed off to the local hardware store for the normal adjustable metal versions.
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Tank and regulator placed on shelf? Check!
Hoses clamped onto couplers and attached to tank? Check!
All that was left was to tap the keg…. and since the husband hadn’t done that anytime in the current century?
It did not go well.
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But can I get a round of applause for the perfectly timed photograph?
I’m so good…. it’s frightening.
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Beer went everywhere. On the floor, on the window, on the mini fridge, everywhere but in our mouths… which is usually where you want to direct it.
And then, when the keg was finally put in position and tapped?
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Pure foam.
😬
To be continued….
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After I polished off another bottle of wine, we assembled at the picnic table to play a pseudo gambling dice game.
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It’s called Left Right Center, is ridiculously easy to play and will cost you $3 a game.
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I missed the first game, but enjoyed the second.
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Who won?
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Let’s just say my pockets were $39 fuller than when I arrived.
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Flush with victory, I strolled down to meet the goats and raised my glass in greeting.
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They’re such cuties.
And quite the talkers….
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Have you scratched a goat today?
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I highly recommend it.
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Yes, after ordering one in January, receiving it in February, sending it back due to damage in March, waiting for a refund until May, ordering another one in June….
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In August… we finally (why the hell was that was so hard?) have a kegorator!!!
Naturally, with my husband at the helm…. delivery to the man cave did not go smoothly.
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Drive much? And yes, it was my car he used to ram into the garden bed bricks. Geesh!
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Numerous pieces and parts accompanied the unit.
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Which barely fit in between the bar and my (heavily loaded because yes, a girl needs variety) booze laden shelves.
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But there she is… in place, a dual tapper!
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Of course we had to rush right out and purchase a keg of the husband’s favorite Belgian. (Heavier than it looks. Damn!)
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Allagash White, from a local Maine brewery.
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And then came the holy shit we might need an engineer dreaded assembly instructions.
To be continued….
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Remember the Covid piñata I bought for the Christmas in July party?
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It was a huge hit. Everyone got in the spirit and had ideas on where to hang it.
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Not wanting the contents to spill into the pool, I recommended a nearby tree.
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A little lower please.
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Blindfolds were acquired and the swinging began.
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Poor girl had no idea my evil husband was messing with her aim. She managed to knock the germ off its hanger but didn’t break it… so it was rehung and more turns were taken.
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The pre med boyfriend finally bashed it open … (although it was against someone’s car, oops!) and pandemic appropriate goodies spilled out.
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They were quickly scooped up and examined. At first people laughed, because how often do you have portable toilet paper in a piñata?
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But then everyone was stuffing their pockets for the next apocalyptic run on Charmin.
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The Covid ball?
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It looked rather like a dirty Pac Man and was claimed as well.
To be continued …
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Remember when I damned my SIL for bringing lobster to our get together last weekend? And then mentioned the pain of seeing leftover lobsters I can’t eat in the refrigerator?
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Turns out that was nothing compared to watching my husband pick them….
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( On the barn porch because Dudley was going absolutely insane )
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And then cook them in my absolutely favorite way.
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Lightly sautéed in butter.
Honestly? I was almost suicidal.
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Now that the stage is set (see yesterday’s post) let’s check out the guests and festivities.
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Santa made numerous appearances.
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And I shared another version of my mankini Santa with this young man who was brave enough to wear it.
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Wine flowed freely.
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Though some guests didn’t approve of our edible flower embellishments.
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This young lady landed herself a new beau. Pre Med and good looking… her father approves. 👍
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Drinks were consumed on the deck, and goat entertainment was enjoyed.
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Eventually the party moved to the pool area.
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And food was enjoyed among Christmas trees and lobster pool floaties.
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Extra food was turned into art.
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(Art being in the eye of the beholder and better appreciated when you’ve been drinking all afternoon.)
To be continued…
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Monty Python fans rejoice! I’ve found us the perfect clock….
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I never really thought about this next one, but it’s true.
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If a lobster is red? It’s dead. But I guess it still beats a roadkill opossum.
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Oh no.
Hell no!
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Ya gotta love that pig’s confidence.
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We drove a little over an hour west to reach our friend’s house for the Christmas in July party I mentioned last week. And when we left our town, the weather was not cooperating.
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Thankfully it was drier in her neck of the woods and let me tell you, the property she recently purchased definitely qualifies as out of the way.
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After a long ride on a bumpy dirt road, her place came into view.
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As you can see, her main reason for buying this place was ample room for horses.
The house is a bit odd. It looks large, but isn’t…. with a surprisingly small kitchen and bedrooms.
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Numerous outbuildings are scattered around, as are decks and staircases.
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One of which….
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Lead to goats. Boots, Buckles and Gypsy to be precise.
Did I mention there’s a pool?
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To be continued…
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It seems that I, the annoying person who posts too much your favorite blogger, has finally run afoul of the law. Yes, ladies and gentlemen… the authorities may soon be kicking in the door to Casa River and hauling her prolific ass away.
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What was my crime you ask? Apparently it’s blogging, and I currently have two outstanding warrants.
The first came in the form of a cease and desist email. And when I saw the reason, I had to laugh at the lengths our resident red rodent bitch would go to for revenge.
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Yes, the owner of the red squirrel calendar whose photos I’ve been featuring on the first of every month has made it clear I am in violation of reproducing her material without permission. How did she find my piddling inconsequential little blog in the vastness of the World Wide Web? There’s only one answer.
She was tipped off. Damn that varmint!
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My second offense was posting about that awful jewelry made from dead relative’s teeth last November. I’m not sure who spilled the proverbial beans on this one, but the creator of those hideously macabre pieces sent a message saying I had 30 days to remove the post or I would be sued for copyright infringement.
To this I have to say…
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In my defense on count 1:
I bought the friggin’ squirrel calendar. Paid good money for it and hung it on my kitchen wall. If anything, I would think me blogging about it every month would drum up interest and spread the word for future sales, but no. The photographer was pissed… so there will be no more first of the month red squirrels.
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Sorry. Take it up with my lawyer.
Regarding the second count:
The story and photos of the uber creepy jewelry made from our dearly departed’s teeth were taken from an article on Facebook. I figured if the pictures had been floating around that platform grossing people out, why not this one? To be honest… I think if I had raved about how beautiful they were she would have been fine with it. But I was told in no certain terms I would be sued unless I removed my post. So remove it I did. Bye bye great grandmother’s incisor necklace, can’t say I’ll miss you.
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So there you have it. If I should suddenly disappear from the blogosphere? You’ll know I’ve been railroaded and am residing in the cross bar hotel. Please be a pal and post my bail so I can continue to bring you the mindless drivel quality content you’ve come to know and love.
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River's world..... 