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Do you peep?
We peep.
Our friends peep.
Our family peeps.
Hell, in New England there’s an entire industry devoted to people who peep.
In Maine, we have so many people peeping the road signs actually warn of the dangers.
But that’s hard to do when the leaves are so damned pretty.
Driving this time of year is a joy.
Even on the highways.
Not that I always agree with the signs.
Well, I don’t.
But the husband and I are taking a week off and going on a peeping vacation.
We’re leaving tomorrow and heading for the Berkshires in northwestern Massachusetts. The husband spent part of his childhood in Northern Connecticut so we’ll be visiting there, as well as crossing the state line into New York. We’re equal opportunity peepers.
We’ll be staying at one of our timeshare resorts…
Halt!
Don’t run screaming from the room at the word timeshare. It’s not in Boca and I don’t want to sell it to you. We bought in 2 years ago on a points based system and have been loving it. ever since. We can go anywhere we want, whenever we want, as often as we want and their Last Call program can’t be beat. This particular resort condo goes for over $1,300 a week and we paid $274. You can’t argue with that.
So we’ll be having a quintessentially New England fall vacation. The Norman Rockwell kind, because Stockbridge was a favorite subject. You know the painting…
We’ll be walking that street, visiting quaint villages, strolling museums and art galleries, touring historic homes, driving scenic mountain roads and yes, drinking our way through multiple states. It’s a beautiful area, we were there 2 years ago for Christmas. But everything was, well… white.
Now it will be in full color.
I doubt I’ll be posting while we’re gone, unless the husband drags me into 197 antique stores in a row and I have to kill some time while he examines every last rusted piece of crap in the Berkshires.
Try not to miss me too much.
I’ll have hundreds of photos to post when I come back.
P.S. We’re driving.
And you know what that means?
I can bring an entire bag of….
SHOES!
An honest politician!
I received a flier in the mail the other day for a man running for the State House of Representatives.
And while I usually throw those things away, this one grabbed my attention for it’s absolute and utter honesty.
Finally! I thought….
Someone is taking responsibility for their actions.
It explained so much!
The total lack of unicorns visiting our backyard…
The fact that people still watch reality tv….
Oh, alright.
It was really just a statement about his opponent’s outrageous claims against him and his political record.
But for a minute there..
It was nice to dream about an honest politician, right?
It’s still growing…..
I walk by it every day and try not to cringe.
Rising up out of the driveway…
The miniature mutant brain….
Is starting to…..
Crack!
What is it about shoes?
Hello, My name is River…. and I’m an addict.
There I said it.
I’m an admitted shoe-aholic.
And while it’s entirely possible I started out life like this –
My love of shoes has been a constant through the years. In the past I had racks full of sexy high heeled shoes. Truly… I never met a pump or peep toe mule I didn’t like. But now, in my decrepit early 50’s with evil bunions paining my every step, you’re more likely to find sandals, sneakers and boots clogging my closet.
But that doesn’t mean I still don’t have a slight problem.
So I went shoe shopping last week and bought a few pairs for fall/winter.
But in my defense, I never repeated a color so that should count for something.
Grey, olive, navy, brown, putty, (yes, be quiet…that’s a color) black, and beige.
Okay….
I lied.
I did buy 2 black pairs. But one was leather and one was suede.
And yes, I bought 2 beige pairs… but look. That one has lacy cutouts on the top.
And that blue pair? Well, they’re fleece lined so that’s totally different.
The brown.
Damn. I have no excuse for the brown.
But I’m an addict, remember? Shoes are my crack!
There are those ( My husband, my friends, my family, my old coworkers… alright basically everyone. You happy?) who say I have too many shoes.
To which I reply –
Too many shoes?
Pffftt! It’s like being too rich or too thin…. just not possible.
And please don’t raise the possibility of me returning any of my recent purchases to the store.
Because it’s not going to happen.
I love me some shoes.
And clearly the universe agrees…
Because it sent me a sign in the mail today.
Did I mention I also love the word free?
Color me impressed.
My favorite time of year is here and Mother Nature is putting on a show in Maine.
Pockets of beautiful autumnal color are bursting forth.
And almost everywhere you look, it’s gorgeous.
Warm days, cool nights…
Farmers markets filled with apples and pumpkins.
If there’s a prettier place than autumn in New England…
I’m sure I don’t know where it is.
Even the dearly departed are enjoying the show.
Welcome fall!
She’s a peach.
Technically, she’s a Hurricane Katrina rescue dog named Peaches who belongs to the farmers across the street…. but yes, she’s a peach as well.
They went out of town over the weekend so we had dog duty… which isn’t a hardship because I’m currently petless for the first time in my life due to a husband who wants to travel when he retires next year.
I agree Peaches.
Boo and hiss to that.
Peaches is a rough and tumble farm dog who dearly missed her father…. and spent an inordinate amount of time looking for him out the window.
She couldn’t quite grasp the fact that she wasn’t allowed to cross the road and go back home…. so even though she’s a free range canine, when we had her outside she had to be tied.
That didn’t go over very well…
So the first thing she did in retaliation?
Yeah.
Peaches – 1.
Alvin – 0.
Peaches is also the only dog I know who enjoys self flagellation.
She picks up her toys and beats herself silly. To the point where I worry she’ll hurt herself.
Naturally she only flagellated half heartedly whenever I filmed, but you get the idea.
Hey, whatever floats your boat.
It kept her occupied, and the chipmunk population breathed a sigh of relief.
Let’s talk, Philadelphia…..
Disclaimer: I am not a hockey fan and I have nothing against the city of Philadelphia.
So if I offend any die hard Flyers out there, apologies. But your new mascot has me (and frankly all of sportsdom) freaked the f*ck out a bit baffled.
Meet Gritty.
Who is, as one site put it:
“An amorphous burnt-sienna blob that looks like the product of the unholy union between a third-tier H.R. Pufnstuf character and an even-more-hirsute-than-usual Seth Rogan.”
I mean, what exactly were the creators going for here…
Homicidal maniac?
Under medicated sociopath?
If they meant to terrify women and children and send them home with bone chilling nightmares…. well done Philly.
Face it, this thing is disturbing.
Witness it’s nod to Kim Kardashian.
And the fact that Gritty took numerous spills on the ice his first night did not go unnoticed.
When the Pittsburgh Penguins reTweeted the photo with the line, “Lol, ok”
Gritty showed his true colors.
Be afraid.
Be very afraid.
It’s that time of year again.
Our backyard trees are full of apples and I’ve been picking like crazy.
Well no, I didn’t.
But yesterday I made apple bread and Norwegian apple pie, so that’s just as good.
Autumn in Maine is pretty damn fabulous, not to mention colorful. The trees are starting to turn, our neighbor is harvesting pumpkins from his fields and if you drop by the house this month you’ll be stuffed full of baked apple treats.
My glazed apple bundt cake is pretty special, although the secret ingredient may have something to do with it.
Yeah.
We do apples up right at River’s house.
Class is in session.
I admit when I chose this week’s course I thought it was a joke.
But clearly I am woefully uninformed because Pickleball really is a thing.
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Beginner Pickleball.
Have you heard the buzz about Pickleball and wondered what it was all about? Come learn to play this wonderful paddle sport, suitable for all ages. Taught by an experienced tennis professional who has become a Pickleball devotee, this class will have you playing in no time. Paddles and balls supplied. Bring tennis shoes to put on when you arrive (no street shoes allowed on the courts).
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Pickleball?
I had visions of this:
But no…. it really does exist.
There are courts, equipment, instructors, a magazine and evidently…
Nomenclature.
After doing a little research, I discovered it’s a rather slow paced game primarily embraced by the retired set.
Although not without it’s vanguard.
And hey, if you’re lucky enough to live in Pittsburgh…
(Yes, I said that with a straight face.)
So maybe I’d better get a jump on my sunset years, grab a ball and start pickling.
Who’s with me?
Wednesdays 5:30-7:30 pm for 6 weeks.
$59/$64 Non refundable.
River's world..... 