Because laughter is literally the only medicine.
I haven’t walked into a bar in 142 days.
Let that sink in…. and tell me pigs aren’t flying somewhere.
Correct signage has never been more important.
I’m beginning to notice a trend.
He’s right.
We probably are.
Finally, a way to make men wear masks!
Thank you Katie.
And if all that was too depressing, let me leave you with this…..
You’re welcome.
But you probably guessed that from the first picture.
More specifically it was 16 foot long boards that weighed a ton and had to be dragged out of the big barn and across the lawn with yours truly trying my best not to drop them on her toes.
Of course it would have been too easy if they’d fit in the 16 foot long spaces. Where’s the fun in that? No… each one had to be measured and cut around the wonky interior frame.
After tar paper was laid out.
Why tar paper? Because the husband wanted a moisture barrier… but more importantly, because he already had two ancient rolls buried in the garage.
What was holding down the tar paper as we attempted to fit the boards you ask?
Absolutely nothing.
Good times.
Was it hot?
A mere 92 degrees in the shade.
Vintage tools and make shift tables?
Check.
Did he have enough boards?
Not really.
Were they all the same width?
Of course not.
Did he care?
I seriously doubt it.
Can’t find a mask to suit your personality?
I think I can help with that.
For all my wonderful women friends?
For all my slightly wine addicted friends?
For Star Wars fans like James.
Do you love horses… or just want to look like one?
I’ve got your back.
There are even masks for those who need to read lips.
And of course, there are masks made just for me..
And because I shamefully admit there are multiple tie dye items in my closet….
This one is calling my name.
I should probably wear one of those when assisting my husband with outdoor projects.
Dr. Seuss has a say…
And finally, if you’re just sick and tired of everyone?
It’s a large thing.
And I have no idea how the thing got here.
I didn’t plant the thing, but maybe a woodchuck did.
The thing has started to lean…
And bloom.
Does anyone know what this thing is?
Hummingbirds.
More precisely our resident Ruby Throated Hummingbird.
He’s laid claim to the feeder….
And ferociously fights off all the others who attempt to sip.
I’ve tried to get videos of the aerial ballets….
But they’re much too fast for my lame camera equipment.
You wouldn’t think something so tiny would be so fierce.
But even this guy keeps his distance.
Because size doesn’t matter.
Or so I’ve been told.
We recently had an election and one of the local referendums was so important I had to get involved.
I lobbied hard.
I raised awareness of the injustice.
I persuaded, cajoled and yes…. even threatened everyone I knew to do their part for equality and democracy.
What was this earth shattering vote about?
Our local pub being able to serve alcohol during the week.
The voice of the people was heard.
Victory was mine!
Another reason to love my town?
They post warnings like this:
Sorry, but if I have $50 worth of filet mignon on the grill?
That bear can pull up a chair and join us before I let it go from rare to well done.
Goat hay?
Do they eat it or sleep on it… and how bad does it have to be before it’s graded down to goat quality?
Cow.
Horse.
Stuffing for the spare bedroom pillow when your MIL visits.
Then goat… seems fair.
And finally, our town as seen from the air.
Rural.
Natural.
Maine.
The way life should be.
Just when I think this horrible year can’t get any worse…..
2020 snickers and rubs its hands together in glee.
That’s right, a Great White Shark is in Maine waters and has killed a woman. We used to think this was impossible ….. but it’s 2020.
All bets are off.
Shortly after the tragedy, these pictures were taken off the coast of the Island where I used to lived.
Lunch.
That’s my Island in the background.
*Gulp*
And if Great White shark appearances in Maine aren’t crazy enough?
This happened early Wednesday morning:
It felt like a bomb had exploded in our basement.
And if that’s a 2.2?
I’m never moving to California.
Of course, we’re Mainers.
Tough….
Resilient.
We will rebuild!
What’s a baby woodchuck to do?
All he wants to do is peacefully munch the bounty thoughtfully provided by that crazy woman in the house.
It’s bad enough his pesky brother shows up….
But then that pesky bird tries to steal his blueberries.
And before you know it…..
The bird calls in reinforcements.
And things go downhill fast.
What’s a woodchuck to do?
The baby barn.
It really is the gift that keeps on giving. Like venereal disease, but with splinters.
As you know, the baby barn had a hard packed dirt floor when we remodeled it. It had a hard packed dirt floor when we moved here 18 years ago and it had a hard packed dirt floor when it was originally built sometime in the mid 1970’s …
And for some inexplicable reason, the husband removed some of that hard packed dirt when he was redoing the frame.
So for the last few months there’s been a decided drop off at the far end.
I’ve said repeatedly he needed to back fill that section and level it off, but no.
I walked out there the other day and found him busy with a shovel instead.
Removing 26 years worth of hard packed dirt.
Why?
I’ll let him tell you…
Good grief Charlie Brown!
The man is a sucker for punishment.
22 wheelbarrow loads full of dirt dumped on the outer edges of our property line later….
He had a smooth playing field…. and an aching back.
And I was called in to assist.
Of photos.
But after the post I did the other day, I don’t blame you for wondering.
Babies have grown up.
And venture out daily. Three in the above picture.
They are also getting fat.
Though I can’t imagine why.
I’m sad to say I saw a fox run off with one in it’s mouth last week.
And though momma chuck does her best, nature will occasionally have her way.
She started with 6 children, went down to 4…. and now it’s 3.
Quadruplets are now triplets.
But they’re still fun to watch….
I’m still trying to make friends…
And Momma still needs a good support bra.
