Let the games begin.

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So now that we have a comfortable, heated and (well stocked with beer) man cave, it was time to get down to some serious board game playing. Covid social restrictions make multi player games like Pictionary and Cards Against Humanity a no go, so we searched for something fun to play with two people.

The husband won’t play Trivial Pursuit or Gin Rummy with me anymore because I wipe the floor with him every time. So we tried a game a friend had given us last year as a gift.

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Simple enough, you finish the lines from various categories… music, literature etc.

We played three games and I skunked my other half three times. Even though I gave him music questions from his favorite song.

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So we moved on to a classic, Scrabble.

It wasn’t an easy start and we didn’t have a lot to build from.

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My task was made even more difficult with letters like these.

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And these.

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And then these.

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But after a marathon four and a half hour game?

I won…. and my husband was pickled.

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We have a bar!

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An honest to goodness, sturdy and well built, fully stained and polyurethaned, ready to dance on (or fall under) bar!

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It was a long time coming but we’re pleased with the result.

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The wood grain is lovely, the top is smooth and shiny.

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And once the custom ordered chairs and shelves are ready, it will be time to get down to business.

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The business of mixing my first Barn Mahal cocktail.

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I bet you thought I was done.

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But I’m not done sharing wonderful photos from Joel Sartore because he has another book.

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Great Blue Turaco

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A book full of birds.

Northern White Faced Owl

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Our fine feathered….

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Baby Golden Parakeet

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And not quite feathered yet friends.

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Golden Pheasant

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Being an avid bird watcher and feeder, this book warms my soul.

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Kea

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I’ll try not to overshare.

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Andean Cock of the Rock

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But look at these beauties.

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Vulturine Guineafowl

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It’s going to be tough.

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And they say drinking doesn’t pay.

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At the beginning of December we gave $10 to a fundraiser for our local food bank which we wouldn’t have known about it if we hadn’t been sitting in our corner at the local pub.

We drank…

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And lo and behold, it paid off.

Because yesterday when we stopped in for a burger and a beer? This was placed in front of me by the bartender….

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The husband joked that they didn’t need to bribe us to drink there…

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But damn. For $100 gift card? I’d drink anywhere.

Apparently our donation was part of a raffle and we won a prize.

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Who says drinking doesn’t pay?

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I never thought I’d say this..

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But drop what thoust is doing and get thee to the nearest Wal Mart forthwith.

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Yes, that Wal Mart.

And I know, you’ll need to wear blinders or your faith in the human race as a species will spiral down the drain…. but trust me. This time it will be worth it.

Because during a begrudged trip there the other day to buy bird seed since both our local stores were out?

I found this:

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And holy guacamole Batman! There’s a little taste of paradise in every bite. Rich, sweet, and buttery…. I don’t even care if I’ll have to let my pants out at the waist next week.

And if that’s not enough to entice you to walk down Wal Mart’s hallowed halls?

Here’s an added bonus.

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If there’s an award for the world’s most patient wife…

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I should win it.

Hands down.

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Because I’ve been looking at this mess for…. count them…. 37 frickin’ days.

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This giant load of useless crap was belched from my husband’s closet in the den on December 8th when he needed to climb up in the attic.

I didn’t bitch, it was a necessity.

And since he had the next 30 days off work because he didn’t take any vacation in 2020, I figured he would deal with it at his leisure.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I didn’t bitch a week later when it was still there.

But two weeks later? I was bitching silently in my head.

Three weeks later? I was bitching in my sleep.

Four weeks later? I was bitching opening while plotting his slow, but quite painful demise.

It’s only today, 37 frickin’ days later, the day before he goes back to work….

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That he decided to deal with it. Of course it’s not a matter of simply putting things back in the closet. No. That would be too simple. Instead, each and every item must be fully examined and then brought to me for the desired but never realized “Gee, that’s swell. I wish you had 6 more just like it!” response.

Then he leaves the item in front of me with hopes that I’ll look it up and find it’s worth thousands of dollars.

FYI? The Moosehead beer mirror my husband knew was a vintage bar collectible?

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Turned out to be a carnival prize worth $10.

As I type he’s knee deep in a stack of tattered Look magazines from the 60’s.

This clean up may take a while.

Another 37 days is not out of the realm of possibility.

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*Update – 5 hours later? The room is still littered with crap and there’s a ladder in the hallway.

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Good times.

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Products no one needs.

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Correct me if I’m wrong…

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But that has got to be the worst product ever invented. If you want to see me in a homicidal rage? Watch me chase a screaming alarm clock down the hall with a baseball bat at 4:00am.

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Do I need to wrap myself in a life size tortilla?

No. I really don’t.

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A foot hammock.

Because those pillowed neck rolls people wear on airplanes aren’t ridiculous enough.

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Why in the world would I pay for an implement that gives me the hairdo I spend all morning trying to get rid of?

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Read my lips…

I neither have an inner mermaid, nor do I need to find one.

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This.

Because the government doesn’t eat enough of our money as it is.

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Nasty spam.

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My spam folder is definitely getting blue.

And at times? It’s down right crude.

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For example, I found this the other day.

Spam

Resort hopping Part 3… The Eagle Mountain House.

 

free porn pics of carmen hayes dos teens violently fucked doggy style.
royal doulton vintage clock girl cums during creampie lesbian triangles
meet women for sex dodge center Minnesota free gay foot torture.

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There’s a lot to unpack here, but let’s break it down shall we?

I don’t know who Carmen Hayes is, but I’m thinking perhaps the ASPCA should be notified.

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 As you know, the husband and I wander around a lot of antique stores…. but I’m pretty sure I’ve never run across that particular piece of Royal Doulton. Nor do I want to.

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And can someone please enlighten me, because clearly I lead a sheltered life in Maine. What exactly is a sex dodge center? The only mental image I have is dodgeball and that can’t be right. Or is it….

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Free gay foot torture. While I appreciate a good deal as much as the next girl…. I think my bunions and I will have to pass on that.

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Random January shots…

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I know the picture is bad and you probably can’t read the writing, but this salon I drove by last week?

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Claimed to be The Best Little Hair House in Augusta…. and that made me laugh.

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This is the January squirrel from our new calendar…. and if momma red dons a pair of skis? I’ll be sure to post a picture of that as well.

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I think we’re all entering the new year with a little trepidation, aren’t we…?

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Look!

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Our contractor does exist! I even caught him putting on the third coat of polyurethane.

And I had to take this picture as well, because the husband is so thrilled he’s going to have a bar?

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He walks out there everyday and communes with it.

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