The very definition of random.

 

Let’s start with a beautiful picture I snapped the other night when we took a ride up the coast.

 

 

Maine summer on the ocean.

You can’t beat it.

 

 

Our neighbor invited us over to see their tree house up close and personal.

 

 

Yes, the tree adjacent tree house I complained about in my blog a while back.

So… which one of you weasels ratted me out?

 

Adverbs.

Or rather, the death of them… is driving me to drink.

 

 

Real delicious?

Make the next one a double.

 

 

Grocery store bouquets.

 

 

Because sometimes a girl just has to buy herself flowers.

 

 

Socks… for my table?

Wonder if the dryer will eat those as well.

 

And finally, because you know I couldn’t resist….

 

 

You’re welcome.

Summer means watermelon.

 

And woodchucks eating watermelon is too damned cute not to share.

 

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I never thought about giving watermelon to the chucks.

 

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But a bowl of it got pushed to the back the fridge recently and I couldn’t see throwing it away.

 

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Let me tell you….

 

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There were some happy little chuckers that afternoon.

 

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Until the last piece was in sight.

 

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Then it was every chuck for themselves.

I suppose it was inevitable.

My site has finally been flipped to the horrid new block editor.

So far, I’m not impressed.

And while I don’t rail at change in other areas of my life,  not having to think about formatting a blog has always been pleasant…. until now. I switched back to classic, but it still doesn’t let me space the way I want.

So does anyone like this new format?

Sing its praises and regale me with its infinite wonders if you do.

Because right now?

This is me:

Pandemic humor.

 

Because laughter is the shortest distance between two people.

 

 

You knew it had to happen.

Pumpkin spice is everywhere….

 

 

Yay!

Though I’m ashamed to admit I’m old enough to remember those.

 

 

All things considered?

Not bad Jen.

 

 

At this point, falling through a giant hole in the ground would be preferable to grocery shopping.

 

 

She really is.

Momma needs a cocktail. Don’t judge.

 

 

Single guys?

Please let me know how these work.

 

 

I hope so…

But it’s not looking good.

How does this happen?

 

A little background before we begin:

I have a YouTube channel.

The only reason I have a YouTube channel is so I can post short ridiculous videos of meaningless drivel here on my blog.

 

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Nests, ducks, ants, roof leaks and the ever popular baby barn.

As you can see by the number of views, my audience is limited. And who can blame them? Watching my roof leak will only excite a small demographic.

Yes, occasionally a friend will stumble on my channel and watch a few…. but without my blog narrative they don’t make a whole lot of sense.

Which is fine, because I don’t have time for… nor interest in…. promoting this channel.

So I have to ask… why?

 

huh

 

Why have I gone from 8 subscribers to 805?

 

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And while I don’t mean this to be a racially charged statement…. there aren’t any John or Jane Smiths on the list.

 

 

 

Totskie Pacino.

Al’s 3rd cousin twice removed? Could be.

After a little research, I found comments.

 

 

 

I didn’t understand them, but I found them.

And upon further study it seems this video, that I posted when we visited the Jacksonville, Florida Zoo 2 years ago….

 

 

 

Is the reason.

 

 

Holy mother of wombats!

It went from 7 views to 100,000 in the span of a week.

And a few days later?

 

 

Another 92,000 views. WTH?

Is there some lame international search engine that was so desperate to provide results they chose my far from riveting 51 second clip over this?

 

 

 

 

I’m befuddled.

I mean hell,  my video wasn’t titled Look At This Awesome Tiger! So why are 192,988 people searching the web for IMG 5867?

Yes, I’m befuddled. And also a little ticked.

 

 

Clearly Evelyne Robinson hasn’t been paying attention.

If I did indeed have a tiger?

He’d be as fat as momma woodchuck and unable to nimbly traverse my lovely backyard waterfall.

*Note to self – check into installing lovely backyard waterfall. Red squirrels can’t swim*

 

 

 

Yes, my views are up.

But once these subscribers realize it’s nothing but woodchucks and barn insulation, I fear my stats will be taking a dramatic downturn.

Sorry Totskie.

Good genes.

 

Our resident buck was here the other evening.

 

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Up from the woods with last year’s progeny in tow.

 

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The twin fawns are now young bucks themselves.

 

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Before we knew it the whole family was here.

 

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Chasing each other and ruining my shots.

 

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This year’s Bambi.

 

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And his/her dad.

 

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Yes sir…

 

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There are some good genes running through this family.

CSA and grocery store chuckles.

 

The summer bounty continues.

 

 

And if you’ve never tried fresh lemon basil?

Please do. It’s wonderful.

 

 

Vegan bratwurst?  Oh, the horror!

Kindly keep your kale out of my artery clogging sausage. If this shows up at the next beer festival I attend….. there will be blood in the streets.

 

 

My only question here is… why?

And for something on the opposite end of the spectrum…..

 

 

Which also makes me ask… why?

 

 

Heritage popcorn?

Proof positive yuppies will buy anything that’s ridiculously overpriced.

 

 

Is it any surprise this was the only bottle left? I think not.

And finally, the real shock of the day.

 

 

Toilet paper is back… and brand names at that!

So if you heard them broadcast a code for ‘crazy lady doing happy dance on aisle 13’?

Pay no attention, the unadulterated joy of not wiping my butt with sandpaper just got away from me for a moment.

Random wildlife shots.

 

Because it’s time to clear out the photo files again.

 

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Momma chuck has been packing on the pounds with an eye toward winter..

 

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But it doesn’t stop her from scrambling up and over the rock wall quicker than I can move my shutter finger.

 

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I have a feeling at least one of her two remaining offspring will be sticking around when the snow flies.

 

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I keep catching him rooting around under the daylilies, filling his mouth with dead leaves and making off for parts unknown with nesting material.

 

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Last year’s fawn comes every night, and since his new antlers are decidedly unbranched, I’ve taken to calling him the antenna buck. Because I’m old… and remember when you had to wiggle those things every afternoon to watch Dark Shadows.

 

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Though these next two pics were at the outermost limit of my zoom, I’m including them because we rarely see momma turkey and her young.

 

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She raises them in the woods and neighboring meadows, never crossing our large expanse of open lawn.

 

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And finally, a few Bambi shots.

 

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Because they’re so damned sweet, I can’t help it.

 

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