Yes, more maps.

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Because everyone loves maps.

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I have never, not once in my entire life, bought a lottery ticket.

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Those are sad numbers.

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Wow.

Texas likes their prisons.

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Trade.

It’s important.

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Mainers.

They love to hunt.

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I’ve always wanted to take an IQ test, but never have.

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For this map you’re supposed to type “Why is your state so..” and see what pops up.

I didn’t get white.

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Not sure what we’re taking so long to do, but I think I’m okay with it.

😉

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Balconies and topiaries.

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Day three of our second trip to Newport, Rhode Island dawned bright and sunny so I snapped another selfie on the balcony while the hubs was off having breakfast.

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My spouse is not a picture taker… and on the rare occasion he does snap one of me? I’m usually headless or walking away…so if I want a photographic memory to take home? I have to take it myself.

And speaking of balconies…

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Not too shabby.

First on the agenda that day was the Green Animals Topiary Gardens in Portsmouth.

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A seven acre estate on Narragansett Bay, it’s the northern most topiary garden in the United States and a pretty spectacular place.

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I’ll quote the history…

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This small country estate was purchased in 1872 by Thomas E. Brayton (1843-1939), Treasurer of the Union Cotton Manufacturing Company in Fall River, Massachusetts. It consisted of seven acres of land, with a white clapboard summer residence, farm outbuildings, a pasture and a vegetable garden. Gardener Joseph Carreiro, superintendent of the property from 1905 to 1945, and his son-in-law, George Mendonca, superintendent until 1985, were responsible for creating the topiaries.

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Carreiro was recruited to design and maintain ornamental and edible gardens as part of a self-sufficient estate. Besides planting fruit trees, perennial beds and vegetable gardens, he experimented with trimming some fast-growing shrubs into unique forms. The first topiaries were started in the estate’s greenhouse in 1912 and later moved.

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Mr. Brayton’s daughter, Alice, gave the estate its name because of the profusion of “green animals.” She made it her permanent residence in 1939. Miss Brayton was an avid gardener and loved to entertain. She hosted a party for Jacqueline Bouvier (Kennedy) in her debut season and for years entertained young Caroline and John Kennedy Jr. at parties to celebrate the harvest. 

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She also regularly allowed the public to enjoy the grounds. Upon her death in 1972, at the age of 94, Miss Brayton left Green Animals to The Preservation Society of Newport County. Today, Green Animals remains as a rare example of a self-sufficient estate combining formal topiaries, vegetable and herb gardens, orchards and a Victorian house overlooking Narragansett Bay.

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The amount of work that goes into maintaining this garden must be staggering.

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The teddy bears hadn’t quite filled in when we visited but they were still sweet.

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We can barely keep the shrubs around our neatly pruned…

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So color me impressed.

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A Newport stroll, a bizarre meet and greet with genuflecting … and a harbor sunset.

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After a day of exploring, we returned to the resort to refresh… and then headed out for an early evening stroll on Thames Street. ( locally pronounced th-aims which drove me crazy)

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Ducking down a waterfront side street brought us to a dock that let us view our condo from afar.

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Top arrow is our condo.

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Bottom arrow is our hungry seagull. Clearly waiting for us to return with a snack.

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There are some beautiful old buildings in Newport.

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And if there’s empty ground in front of them? There’s a bar.

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You might remember this shop from my last trip when we drove by and laughed.

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This time we went inside and laughed.

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And bought a souvenir t shirt.

For me.

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This store was inexplicably outfitted in fake lemons.

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This 1700’’s home was a tad more discreet.

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There was an oyster festival in progress on one of the wharfs… and as we were walking by an interesting fellow started a conversation with my spouse.

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As you know, my guy loves to talk. So when someone says thank you for your service, we’re off.

Of course this conversation was a bit different as the guy who initiated it was… shall we say… under the influence of more than one substance. He kept telling my husband he’d seen things, he’d lived, he knew. It was hard to follow his train of thought because he was all over the place. Religion, politics, otherworldly adventures… it was a tad bizarre. But just when I was ready to write him off as a total kook? He said something that made perfect sense.

He turned to me, said I was a queen who must be revered and told my husband to acquiesce to me in all things. Then he genuflected in front of me, got down on both knees, bowed… and squeezed my shoes.

So, yeah.

He was totally sane.

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People.

Ya gotta love ‘em.

Moving on, the husband was hungry and I wasn’t so we ducked into an unassuming mom and pop pizza place across from our resort so he could nosh. The restaurant didn’t look like much, but the spaghetti with meatballs was some of the best he’d ever had.

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Amazing sauce, huge meatballs, baked with mozzarella and fresh basil in a massive bowl. The husband was a happy camper.

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Back at the condo we sat on the balcony with adult beverages.

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And watched the sun set on Newport harbor.

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It was a good day.

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Though the husband wasn’t nearly as reverential as my queenly status demands.

🤣

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You know your cat is an asshole when…

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is blowing his winter coat.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten likes to sleep on the new den couch.

In order to limit the pounds of shedding cat fur, his servants covered the right and left cushions on which His Lordship reclines with towels.

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His Lordship is a true cat.

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And by that, I mean an asshole.

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Please note the placement of said towels.

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And the location of said cat.

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🥴

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A disappointing meal, a goose rescue, and a beautiful state park.

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They say you can’t go home again and sadly that was true of what was our favorite restaurant on our previous trip to Rhode Island.

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We returned to the Beach House in Bristol expecting another stellar meal but were in for a surprise.

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I wanted a mojito but they had no mint. The blackberry margarita was alright, but $17 for an old fashioned glass size seemed a tad much.

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My husband’s lobster bisque, while creamy… wasn’t exactly brimming with lobster.

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And searching for the crab in my crab fritters was a time consuming task.

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Sadly they’d changed their hours on full entrees vs lunch so the husband ordered nothing… he’s not a sandwich guy… and I settled for an uninspiring chicken Caesar wrap with tiny overdone fry bits. Very disappointing.

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As we hit the parking lot, a family of geese.

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Photo worthy, yes.

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But everyone was headed for the road…

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And that wasn’t good.

This road is a busy straightaway and people fly by. Not wanting to see any of our avian brethren squashed, I dropped my purse ( but not my phone, once a blogger – always a blogger) and ran into the road like a lunatic waving my arms for cars to stop.

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Once they were safely across, the mother and father geese jumped a stone wall to access a pond, but the goslings couldn’t manage the leap and were distressed enough to start heading back to the road…

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Which is when my husband jogged across, picked up every little gosling and plopped them over the side with mom and dad. Look to his right and you’ll see an adult goose head giving him the stink eye.

Rescue complete, we headed down the road to Colt State Park.

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I’ll quote the history instead of summarizing.

Colt State Park is a true gem within the State Park System. With 464 acres of lawns, four miles of paved pathways, hiking trails, historic stone walls, and one of the state’s most spectacular shorelines, Colt State Park is a favorite among visitors and locals alike.

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The stone walls were impressive, and unusual in a state park.

Beginning in 1905, the Colt family began to assemble the parcels of land that would become their farm on Poppasquash Neck from lands owned by old Bristol families. These were the farms of the Chase, Church, and Van Wickle families.

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Colt Farm, now Colt State Park, became a showcase of wealth. The entrance to the property alone spoke of the tone and ambition of the owner. A pair of bronze bulls anchors the approach.

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The bulls.

Throughout the drive to the main house and its complex of barns, a party casino, and stables, Colt dotted the landscape with examples of European sculpture and statuary of mythical Greek gods and goddesses. This display of the human form prompted one of Colt’s relatives to call the drive to the casino/party pavilion “Wall Street,” an avenue of the “bulls and the bares!” Colt prided himself on operating the farm to breed prize Jersey cattle. The magnificent cow barn is one of the surviving structures in the park.

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The barn.

As local town histories note, no expense was spared on Colt’s prized herd. “There was one employee for each cow. The cows’ horns were polished, and their tails were washed daily. When in their stanchions, the cows always had a thick bed of fresh straw. Cork and rubber covered the concrete floor where the cows stood. The spotless, comfortable barn was even heated in the winter.”

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Samuel P. Colt died in 1921. Disputes about his will, clouded by disagreements among family members, stalled attempts by the State to acquire the property by the Metropolitan Park Commission in 1935. It wasn’t until 1965, using Green Acres funds, that the state bought the farm for use as a park.

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In the meantime, throughout the intervening years, the estate was managed by the Industrial Trust Company. Governor John H. Chafee dedicated the park in 1968. Today, a statue of Chafee overlooks the landscape of an open-air Chapel by the Sea, ten playing fields, six picnic groves, restrooms, a public boat ramp, and four miles of walking, jogging, and bicycle trails.

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The statue.

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It was quite a place.

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And in case you’re wondering about the history I quoted above, yes…

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Poppasquash Road really does exist.

😊

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Interspecies meeting.

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We have visiting raccoons in the backyard.

The raccoons attempt to drink from our birdbath but can’t always stretch far enough to make that work.

So along with their food, I put out a pan of water last night.

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To which the raccoon didn’t pay the slightest bit of attention.

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At one point he practically sat in it, but wouldn’t drink.

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Enter a baby woodchuck.

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The raccoon is three times as big, but was terrified of the little chucker.

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And when baby made a mad dash for food, the raccoon startled… banging into the pan, spraying water over them both.

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That sent baby chucker back to the shed….

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And made the raccoon realize what the pan was for.

😉

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Blithewold manor, upstairs.

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While this is a large historic estate, it’s not dripping gold and marble like the Newport cottages.

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It’s a livable home.

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With very busy wallpaper.

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Some of the lady of the house’s vintage dresses were on display.

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And you can always tell the difference between a man’s bedroom and a woman’s.

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The bathrooms seemed relative modern.

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The master suite had two beds.

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And a nautically themed mural covering the walls.

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This is one of the few rooms that retained its original furnishings.

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And while it’s not my taste…

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The intricacy of the inlay was impressive.

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And it was all in beautiful shape.

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To the rear side of the master, a child’s playroom.

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Complete with sailboats and hammocks.

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Tour finished, we walked back to our car past the carriage house’s row of allium.

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❤️

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I love them…. but.

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Remember a few years back when some critter gnawed holes in my barn porch furniture forcing me to recover all the cushions? I blamed it on chipmunks, or mice. But the other day?

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I noticed one of the chairs had a giant hump.

And a very large hole.

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Thankfully no one was in there, but the destruction was evident.

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Big holes on the end, chewed down through the new fabric and the old.

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Missing stuffing and holes on both chairs.

Someone was nesting.

And it didn’t take me long to find the culprit.

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Bad woodchuck.

Bad.

😖

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Blithewold manor, downstairs.

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Blithewold (meaning happy woodland) was built in 1909… originally as a summer home (of 45 rooms) and while not nearly as grand the famous Newport cottages…

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It was still quite lovely.

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The entrance hall was bright and sun filled.

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The dining room a good bit darker. Sadly most of the original furniture is gone, and the replacement table doesn’t quite fill the space.

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The butler’s pantry.

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With a funky arrow board pointing out where “servant needed”.

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The family loved their gardens and most of the china patterns reflect this.

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The daughters.

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And the naughty butler.

The kitchen was cordoned off the day we visited as it was being used to cater a wedding on the grounds that evening.

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The breakfast room also served as an indoor patio with large windows and doors that opened the house to cool breezes off the bay.

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Floral tile and pinecone lighting. These people loved their plants.

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A pillared hallway led to the billiard room.

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And the telephone room with hand painted wallpaper.

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The living room had a few scattered pieces of furniture …

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Including this rather ugly throne.

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About to head upstairs, we noted the hanging cherub lights.

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And I don’t know about you…

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But to me it looks like the little gold plated darling wants to bash someone on the head.

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Run!

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