Still stealing deer food.
And when it’s too big to finish in one sitting?
They’re still planting.
And I’m still cleaning up scattered dirt.
And squirrel poo.
Help me out with this…
Aren’t teenagers supposed to grow up and move out?
Category Archives: Uncategorized
They’re in league with Amazon.
It’s a conspiracy.
I know it.
Those damn red squirrels have been plotting and now they’ve got corporate behind them.
How do I know this?
Because yesterday I got this box from Amazon:
Race cars….
For squirrels!
I’m doomed.
Because I was tired of waiting.
Ever since we installed the new deck railings we’ve needed to re-stain the deck. And by we, I mean me… because while he’ll constantly remark it needs to be done? The husband never does it. Not once in 18 years.
Problem is, we needed to buy a new pressure washer to clean the siding and I didn’t want to stain until that happened.
So I waited. And waited….. and waited some more.
( Never nagging. No. Not me.)
But after the husband saw the prices of a new Honda pressure washer?
I feel confident saying it’s not happening anytime soon.
So I moved things to the lawn, grabbed my brush and went to work.
Many holy hell why is it surface of the sun hot hours later…
I was done.
And pretty pleased with the results.
Dirty siding aside, it looks nice.
Clean, fresh and ready for the red squirrel family’s onslaught of poo.
Next morning fog shot just because.
CSA, grocery shopping in Maine… and pie.
A slightly smaller bounty this week as the neighbor we split with liked more of the offerings than we did.
But there were fairy tale eggplants, so I should probably start this blog with Once Upon a Time.
Once Upon a Time in Maine…. a local grocery store advertised their weekly ware.
Squid jigs at the grocery store.
You know you’re in Maine when….
And meanwhile down at the River ranch, there was pie.
Glorious lattice crust fresh blueberry pie.
No, I couldn’t wait for it to cool completely.
And yes, I had pie for breakfast the next morning.
If that’s wrong?
I don’t want to be right.
Pandemic humor.
Because laughter is the only contagious thing I want to catch.
That sounds about right.
We didn’t.
We really didn’t….
I’m all for this.
As hard as lock down has been, there are some people I’ve been quite happy to avoid.
I could totally rock that look.
Yeah.
I don’t know about you, but I’ve had it with the conspiracy theorists.
That’s so wrong.
Tight pants.
A pandemic symptom I can totally relate to.
Which brings me to the new anthem for the Covid age.
Sing it sister!
Blue Monday.
We’re extremely blue at Casa River.
And loving every minute of it.
Our bushes are full of ripe fruit and we can’t pick fast enough.
The neighbors get a bowl.
The postman gets a bowl.
If y’all lived closer, you’d get a bowl as well.
After picking, it was time to dig out my favorite blueberry recipes.
The coffee cake was wonderful.
Bursting with fat juicy fruit.
Unfortunately, the cobbler didn’t cobble.
The berries were so big the batter didn’t squeeze up through, but sat at the bottom and made cake instead.
Of course, now that I think about it….
There’s nothing wrong with upside down cobbler.
It still tastes fabulous.
So if you care to share your favorite recipe…. I’m all ears.
And blue fingers.
For Boo, as requested.
Because everyone wants pizza.
The husband stopped for gas the other day in his truck. Since I wasn’t with him, he opted for a little haute cuisine a la convenience store.
Pizza slices in hand…. he settled into the truck cab to munch.
And then?
This:
A seagull spotted him. ( Or more likely his pizza )
Husband said the silly thing squawked up a storm, pacing back and forth on the hood.
When that didn’t earn him any pizza, he attacked the windshield wipers.
Husband said it was such a spectacle, people were taking pictures and one woman asked if she could put it on Facebook.
So if you see a retired Marine in a black Ford truck looking like Tippi Hendren on your news feed?
That’s my man.
And his new seagull friend.
I hate to report this….
But the ever dwindling woodchuck family is now down to three.
Momma chuck and two children.
The sextuplets are now twins.
And even more outnumbered by the starlings than ever.
But they’re growing quickly and packing on the pounds for winter.
So much so, it’s getting hard to distinguish them from their mother.
Until…
She stands up.
No doubt about it then.
Does anyone know where I can get a woodchuck girdle?
Asking for a friend.
CSA and grocery store fails.
What is it with men and old westerns?
They say there’s a little boy in every man….. and if that’s true?
Mine is playing cowboys and Indians.
Left to his own devices, my husband could easily watch the western channel 24 hours a day. I know…. because True Grit, Fort Apache and Rio Bravo have been the background soundtrack to my life for the past 36 years.
He likes westerns, ergo he likes John Wayne.
Not as a real person, he neither knows nor cares who that was….. but rather as an idealized portrait of what a real man is supposed to be. At least on screen.
So when we went to Lowes the other day and were standing on the check out line? You know he had to grab this:
“Manly meals”.
I’m sure you can hear my eyes rolling from there.
Who knew my husband wanted to be a cookout legend?
The man who has never read a recipe in his life, but had to buy this book. And may I just say?
I was not impressed.
That is the saddest excuse for steak I’ve ever seen. And with pesto made from cilantro as an accompaniment? The Duke and his horse should be run out of town with their heads hanging down in shame.
Now correct me if I’m wrong, but doesn’t Texas do everything up big?
If so, these are misnamed…. because those are the skimpiest, most pathetic tacos to ever grace a shell.
And I’m from Maine.
We fill our tacos with haddock and lobster… what do we know?
I’ll spare you the Gun Smokey Barbecue Chicken and the Ringo Kid’s Skirt Steak, but suffice it to say I doubt any of Wayne’s dishes will ever make it to our table.
And now, because this is my blog and you know I can’t help myself…. here’s one final picture of the quintessential manly man.
You can thank me later.
River's world..... 