First there were woodchuck babies, then catbird babies (although that didn’t end well) , a quick glimpse of a fox baby, and fawns! Finally… fawns.
But now?
We have skunk babies!!
Simply too much cuteness.
Adorable little critters!
I wasn’t able to film or photograph the funniest part because it was too dark, and that’s a shame because the husband and I had tears in our eyes from laughing so hard.
Our deer came up to feed and those three little fellas chased her all over the yard. In a line… one, two, three… like a little skunk locomotive.
For 20 straight minutes they wouldn’t let her near the food, no matter how she tried.
This beer we found at a liquor store in New Hampshire.
It had a rich, dark, oaky finish….. and also made me laugh.
I like :
This meme my husband’s niece posted on FB.
It’s uncannily accurate.
My husband can spot a red tailed hawk in the top of a tree on the northbound side of the highway while flying down the southbound side at 90mph…. but can’t find his socks. Which are in his sock drawer, where they’ve been for the past 35 years.
Someone please explain that to me.
I like :
This giant pink flamingo my husband’s nephew brought out to the Island for the kids to float on.
Did I mention he’s a rough, tough lobsterman…
And it didn’t quite fit on his boat?
I like :
Reusable grocery bags.
Less plastic and less waste to clog our landfills.
Of course I’m proof positive that saying is pure crap.
I’m 55… and not a single thing about me feels new again.
So we’ve established my husband is a collector of vast piles of junk,boatloads of crap,too much rusty old stuff, some eclectic treasure.
Lots of people know this, and think being an antique expert goes hand in hand.
They constantly give him items and want a full history, description of use, plus what it’s worth.
Problem is….. more often than not he has no frickin’ clue.
Which is when he hands it off to me.
I research, investigate, and compare so he can go back and look knowledgeable. Which leads to more people giving him more items to identify. It’s a vicious circle.
*Note to self – stop researching, investigating and comparing*
Last month he came home with two items that were beyond even my scope of reference.
Supposed Native American artifacts.
A medicine man’s turtle shell rattle…
And a warrior’s breastplate.
I admit, even I was clueless here.
His friend gave him some accompanying paperwork that was, to say the least….. a wee bit strange. It was a statement from a man named Silver Wolf who said he saw the items at an antique show 10 years ago and was then visited in his dreams by the original owner Red Hawk, who lived in the late 1700’s.
Okaaay.
A man named Ernie then purchased the rattle, and took it to a Pow Wow to “awaken it”. A red tail hawk flew overhead during the ceremony and apparently that was the spirit of the original owner.
Okaaay.
Later, a chief said the rattle had a person named Many Eyes bound inside of it and the spirit needed to be set free.
So, yeah.
How the hell do you research that?
I tried. And the closest I came was this:
Pretty damn close. (Red tailed hawk and trapped spirit not withstanding.)
As for breastplates? They’re everywhere… in hundreds of designs, made with multiple materials, some old, some new and I have no utter clue how to differentiate.
So I went to the Maine State Museum….
Where no one had a clue either.
But they gave me the name and email address of a supposed expert…. so I contacted her and sent photos.
This was her response:
Boy. I’m not the expert, At All. The breast plate looks modern to me, but don’t take my word for it! And I have never seen a rattle like that so I really can’t judge. It could be Plains, but equally, could be new. It looks dirty, as opposed to worn, which sets off alarms for me.
That said, I am NOT that versed. If you want to talk to someone who is, my ex-husband is very knowledgable.
Best of luck in your search!
And thank you for thinking of the Maine State Museum.
So after wasting more time than I thought possible on this, I was done.
I passed along what I learned to the husband to give to his friend, with the expert’s ex husband’s phone number, and called it a day.
The next morning after having breakfast with his friend? The husband came back with the items and said his friend wanted me to sell them for him.
What???
No!!
Personally… if the items are real Native American artifacts? I’d give them back to the tribe of origin, or at the very least a museum. So much Native culture has been bought and sold over the years, I felt bad even having them at our house.
And if they’re reproductions? You wouldn’t get any serious money for them so why bother.
This is what happens when your husband can’t tell his friend no.
It’s a simple process…. and one I need him to learn.
I walked by my window the other day and had to do a double take.
Across the road on our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm, the seasonal workers were weeding a garden patch. Most summers there are Mexican field hands, but because of the new immigration policies of He Who Will Remain Nameless… this year the workers are Jamaican.
Now, I’ve never been to Jamaica.
But I’m going to go out on a limb here…
And say this isn’t their new fashion trend.
Yes, that is what you think it is.
Cardboard.
With a hole in the middle for your head.
I particularly like the fact that he flipped up the cut out hole section.. and left it there. Like a pot lid.
Want to put your finger on the pulse of your town?
Check out the Facebook group pages.
No matter how large or small your particular hamlet is, chances are someone, somewhere is administrating a page for it.
I haven’t had so much fun in years!
You’ll learn very quickly who the town gossips are, where to find a free 40 year old slightly faded recliner, which families have been feuding since 1923, who stole the carrots off the honor system garden cart, the residents you should avoid at all costs, and where the best wild raspberries are found.
There are also important things like this:
That’s news you can use people!
Neighbors helping neighbors…
*Note to self- avoid the White Road*
Granted, if you live in the city you won’t have such interesting headlines.
But loose chickens can be a problem anywhere…
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.