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Last week during the N’Or Easter, the husband went out to shovel before it turned over to sleet.
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He shoveled a path to the man cave.
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He shoveled the man cave porch for bar access.
But the driveway?
It looked like this.
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Priorities.
It’s all about priorities.
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Have you ever looked at ads for products and thought, that can’t be real?
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Jerky flower bouquets for the special man in your life?
No way.
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Way.
And they’re not exactly giving them away either.
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The Ball Hammock.
Yes, my Facebook algorithm is back to its old tricks just in time for the holiday. Will I be buying my husband a rocket to put in his pants?
No.
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I will not be asking him to release the Kraken either.
Well, not that one anyway.
And finally the last gift I won’t be buying him…
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Ball therapy.
Just…. no.
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I saw a list of things you should buy your significant other to show how much you love them yesterday. And while none of these products fit that bill…. they did make me chuckle at the thought of owning them and putting them in the barn bar.
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Come on, you know that will come in handy someday.
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Bar mascot? It could be.
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Maybe if I get the husband one of these he can practice on pizza for his next remodel project. Eating those mistakes will be a lot more enjoyable than staring at his construction errors for the next 20 years.
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I wasn’t exaggerating the last week when I said I cried after giving the stray cat back to his owners. It was strange… I knew it was the right thing. I knew I had to do it. I knew he would be loved and well cared for. But when I was at the sink washing out the cat dishes? I kind of lost it.
I’m a huge animal lover and have had a houseful of pets all my life… up until two years ago when we lost our last cat (he was 26!) and the husband said no more pets because he wanted to retire and travel freely. I understood, and I didn’t argue… but I hated the feeling of an empty house. So when that little guy wandered in? He stole my heart immediately. I was complete.
For 6 whole days, then I was bereft.
And bless my husband’s heart, even though I know he didn’t want to… he broke down and suggested we go to a shelter and rescue a kitty.
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I honestly didn’t know I could get dressed and out the door that fast…. but I broke my record and was waiting in the car before he could change his mind.
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We drove north to PALS. ( Protection for Animal Life Society ) It’s a wonderful no kill cat shelter I’d heard about but never had occasion to visit.
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It was amazing. Clean, well run, with an on staff vet and room after room of lucky kitties.
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It was a veritable snuggly cat stacked warehouse.
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We were interviewed and then led into the visiting room to meet the adoptable felines. Some were friendly and outgoing, some were shy and sad. We were told some were permanent residents due to health or behavioral issues.
I would have been happy to take any one of them home… but decided to let the husband choose.
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After much deliberation, this stocky little grey and white fellow was chosen to be an official member of Casa River. ( first photo taken in moving vehicle hence the blur )
He was found wandering as a stray and was surrendered 3 weeks ago. He’s been neutered, wormed, vaccinated and been given a clean bill of health. They estimate his age at 4 years.
He’s very sweet and enjoys being petted…
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When you can find him.
For now he’s skittish and needs to learn to trust us. Lord knows what the poor little guy has been through…but he’ll be happy here.
I’ll make sure of it.
💕
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I saw an article the other day that made me look twice.
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I’m extremely environmentally conscious, so color me intrigued.
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Grandma = a nice Marsala sauce?
Stranger things have happened. ( To me anyway, you might lead a normal life. )
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All kidding aside, why not?
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$1,350?
We paid a lot more for my father in law’s coffin… and ain’t nobody going to harvest that for risotto.
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A few more epic interior design fails. And this time they’re the very worst kind…. kitchen bathroom combos.
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This is so horribly wrong.
I can’t even.
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As disgusting as this is, you almost have to applaud the ingenuity.
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I’m going with disturbing. Men have been known to splash…. and that doesn’t bode well for dinner.
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After an extremely mild December with a greenish brown Christmas and a warm rainy January…
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February is roaring in strong….
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And cold.
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The ice has finally frozen solid enough to hold the fishing shacks on the river, which is big business up here in Maine.
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Do I want to sit in an 8×10 plywood building and stare at a hole in the ice in subzero temperatures waiting for an oily little smelt to swim by?
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I do not.
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No matter how pretty the sunsets are.
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But more power to the rugged souls that do.
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Have you ever walked into a house or apartment and thought, “Who the hell designed this mess?”
If not, then take a look at these…
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I’m guessing clean clothes would always be on hand, but… no.
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I am.
It’s hideous.
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I shouldn’t laugh at this, I’ve seen my husband do something very similar.
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Yikes. That’s going to be a tight fit…
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Finally, a situation where female personal plumbing is preferable.
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If you’re not familiar with the tradition , every year Google releases a map of the most popular Super Bowl food searches by state.
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Being game day, I’m posting this helpful hint of what not to eat while watching Mahomes take Brady down a peg. Maine clicked in with traditional nachos, but some other states seem to have lost their minds.
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Vermont went a different route. But then again, they usually do.
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Oh, hell no Nebraska.
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This just keeps getting worse.
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Jesus. Do people not know how to snack anymore?
Chia seed at the Super Bowl. WTF!
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Because sometimes it’s hard to laugh these days.
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Now that you mention it, that would be very helpful… yes.
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Technically I didn’t, because I’m not working from home. But it’s still funny.
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Absolutely. 2020 had kale written all over it.
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No one can make me drink Budweiser. Not even Covid 19.
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It’s such a simple concept.
Sigh.
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River's world..... 