No funny business….

 

Just a heartfelt Merry Christmas to my loyal readers.

 

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Wishing you joy…

 

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And a Christmas Day filled with everything that makes your heart sing.

 

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May your tree stay vertical, may your outdoor lights stay lit…

 

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And may the birds not strip your wreath down to the wire.

(Speaking from experience)

 

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And now seems a perfect time to say thanks….

Thanks for being there when I log in.

Thanks for putting up with the 112 part series of my vacations and my endless photos of rocks.

Thanks for the laughter, and the snarky banter.

But most of all?

Thanks for not posting those sickeningly sweet pictures of Elf on a Shelf.

 

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I really hate that little bastard.

 

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(Okay, there was a small amount of funny business.

So sue me…)

 

 

Merry Christmas Eve interruption…

 

As you’ve probably guessed…  (Or if you hadn’t? You should have.)  we’re currently off on another adventure.

And have been for the last 11 days.

 

 

Yes, our annual Christmas vacation.

No holiday stress. No decorating. No cooking. No family drama. We leave it all behind, and have since December 2015.

Why?

Because I used to be Christmas crazy.

 

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I spent a fortune, I decorated everything that stood still…. (yes, I’m ashamed to say there was even a tree on my toilet.)

 

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I drove myself nuts finding the absolutely perfect gifts for people who didn’t appreciate it and cooked the absolutely perfect meal for family who couldn’t care less and always complained.

Maybe my mother dying was the catalyst. But in 2015 we took a trip to the Poconos…. had a blast, and never looked back.

Do I miss the beautiful live fir tree in the living room?

 

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Yes.

I also miss all the crazy outside lights.

 

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The well house…

 

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The stone wall…

 

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The funky alligator….

 

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And reindeer who were annually buried up to their butts in white stuff.

 

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The lights in the windows…

 

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And on the bushes.

 

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The sparkling balls on the table…

 

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That caught the sun and turned our living room into a Christmas disco.

 

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The running reindeer on the garage.

 

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The ribboned garlands….

Yes, I miss it all.

But do I miss the 2 solid weeks of work it took to get everything set up (in the snow , ice and wind) and the solid week of work it took to take it all down (in sub zero temperatures with ice and wind) ?

No. I most definitely do not.

But rest assured I’m not totally Grinchy this year, I did put up a tree.

 

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This trip?  Williamsburg, Virginia until Dec. 30th. Meeting old friends and getting our geek on in a marvelous area filled with American history.

Colonial settlements? Check.

Revolutionary War? Check.

Civil War? Check.

I just hope 2 weeks is enough time.

And I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess there might be a few pictures to post when we get back.

 

 

Oh, don’t be so dramatic.

I should be done by …. June.

 

 

 

Cape Cod Day 2, a feel for the Cape…. and food.

 

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Leaving Hyannis, we headed out on Route 28 towards Dennisport.

 

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Past marshes…

 

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Windswept grasses…

 

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And homes that perch along the shores.

 

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With weathered shingles and wide porches to catch the breeze and the views.

 

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These are the homes I think of when I envision the Cape.

 

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Fabulous places built to withstand the elements.

 

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And windmills?

 

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No, not usually. But we saw quite a few of them.

 

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As well as homes with their very own lighthouses.

 

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Tell your mother in law her bedroom is up there and see how often she comes to visit.

 

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But enjoying the scenery is hard work, so…

 

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Lunch….

 

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At Clancy’s in Dennisport.

 

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Perched on the Swan River….

 

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We dined, and drank… with a view.

 

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And since cranberries rule in the Cape…

 

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I had the Cape Cod cranberry mule.

 

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Along with some rich creamy chowder…

 

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And a wonderful scallop roll I forgot to photograph until I had demolished it.

 

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I know.

 

 

But hey, I was hungry… be happy you got soup.

 

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And a picture of the pretty ladies room sinks…

 

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With free salt rub, that the bartender told us everyone steals. Bowl, saucer, spoon et al.

WTH ladies?

Share with your sisters.

 

 

Cape Cod, Day 2… JFK memorial park, the beach and some grazing geese.

 

Close to the harbor we found a nice beach…

 

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Framed by those lovely shingle sided homes that are so typically Cape Cod.

 

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And quintessentially coastal New England.

 

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I’ve always loved them.

 

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Up from the beach?

 

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Canada Geese, lined up like bowling pins.

 

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I love me some goosers!

 

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And behind the goosers?

 

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The JFK memorial.

 

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On this day, quiet…

 

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Reverential…

 

 

 

And filled with grazing geese.

 

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I imagine this park is packed during the summer….

 

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But happily we had it mostly to ourselves that day.

 

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Well, us….

 

 

 

And 17 adorable water fowl.

 

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Cape Cod, Day 2… Hyannis, JFK socks and creative pooper scooping.

 

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As many of you probably know, John F. Kennedy’s family’s compound is in Hyannis… and when you’re there it’s pretty hard to escape the fact. Streets, housing developments, restaurants…. they’re all named for some part of the Kennedy legacy. So we said if you can’t beat em, join em….. and visited the JFK museum.

 

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Unfortunately it was under construction when we visited…

 

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So there won’t be any good exterior shots…

 

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Or good interior shots for that matter because photography was prohibited. I’m not really sure why, as there were very few vintage artifacts to flash damage. And to be honest, the whole place was disappointing. It consisted of multiple rooms filled with large photos, prints and news clippings that I could have just easily researched online. From my couch, in my pajamas.  The real museum is in Boston… so my advice? Skip this one and drive to beantown.

Unless you’re in desperate need of some  presidential socks…

 

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Which I bootlegged a picture of.

Since it was a beautiful day, we strolled to the harbor next.

 

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Where the husband made friends with a seagull..

 

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Who didn’t seem too pleased with the rules.

 

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Being off season and November, the art shanties were vacant…

 

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But it must be wonderful to walk there in the summer and watch local artists at work.

 

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This time of year the harbor was home to charter and fishing boats.

 

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As most of the tourists have fled for warmer ports.

 

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But it was a pretty spot to watch the ferry come in from Martha’s Vineyard.

 

 

And enjoy the day.

 

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Unless you’re a dog walker….

 

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Who apparently have to follow closely behind their pets and strategically aim a saucepan at Fido’s butt.

Good times.

 

 

 

Cape Cod trip, Day 1. Boston traffic, the resort and yes, food. (for those of you who keep screaming for food pics)

 

No trip south of Maine can escape Boston traffic… and in a word?

 

 

Okay, technically that’s 2 words.

 

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But it still sucks.

 

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The Tobin Bridge is attractive…

 

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But directly after that is the Callahan Tunnel, which is not.

Of course my aversion to it may have something to do with the fact that we’re always bumper to bumper in the dark and instead of the posted 40 mph speed limit? The husband is flying through at 80 while darting in and out of traffic trying to get 3 inches ahead of the next car. Driving is a competition dontcha know…

Blah, blah, blah.

Safe trip…. hello Cape Cod!

We stayed at the Sea Mist Resort in Mashpee, Massachusetts which is considered the Upper Cape.

 

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And it was a good base from which we could explore.

Quiet, wooded and off season? It was practically deserted, which is how we like it.

 

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We had a one bedroom townhouse with two bathrooms and a cathedral ceiling.

 

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A nice full kitchen with granite countertops and wood floors.

 

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It was clean, and spacious…

 

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Although when it came to the living room furniture and color scheme?

 

 

Yes, it was bland.

 

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But hell… clean, quiet and spacious trumps ugly any day.

 

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Did I mention there were 2 full bathrooms? That’s unusual in a one bedroom timeshare condo and I took full advantage…. giving the husband this smaller one.

 

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It was a little odd having a window in the bedroom that looked out on the living room….

 

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But it made for a nice little reading nook when the husband was knee deep in MSNBC every night.

 

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The bedroom was a good size with a super comfortable, although not king sized, bed.

 

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It also had a full length mirror which earns it an extra star in my book as none of them ever do.

After unpacking,  (which looks like this for me…

 

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And this for him…

 

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(Men. How is it possible we’re the same species?) We headed out for a late lunch/early dinner.

 

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Mashpee Commons was nearby and one of the largest shopping centers on the Cape. While attractive and filled with interesting stores and restaurants, it was also a nightmare when it came to parking. We circled and circled… and circled some more until we squeezed into a tiny spot. Christ! It was the dead season of November, I can’t imagine what it would be like in the summer.

 

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We landed at Bobby Byrne’s pub…

 

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Where I got in the Cape Cod spirit with a cranberry and grapefruit cocktail. (Or two)

When you’re in the Cape, it’s all about the cranberry.

 

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I wanted the huge gigantic pretzel, because seriously… it was huge.

But went with the grilled chicken quesadillas and sriracha crema instead.

 

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Damn! They were good.

Husband had his usual French Onion soup which I swear… contained at least a pound of cheese.

 

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Then we shared a chicken broccoli alfredo.

 

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Which was delightfully rich and garlicky.

Did I mention the beer was extremely cold?

 

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Literally, ice cold.

(Are you food picture screamers satisfied? Day 1 and you got multiple food photos. You’re welcome… now be quiet.)

Bellies full, we grocery shopped to stock the kitchen…. and then called it a night.

One more picture…

 

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Because skylights in the living room require an after dark selfie….

 

 

 

It’s time for Spam.

 

 

I’ve been so busy posting vacation photos I fear I’ve been neglecting my ever loyal, and extremely prolific spam contributors.

Let’s take a look, shall we?

 

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I believe this post consisted of making fun of Duluth Trading Post’s expensive underwear. Not such a remarkable idea really, but to each their own.

 

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3 hours ago·

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This question is not clear to me.

It’s beer.

I was getting it on.

I’m not sure how much clearer I could be….

 

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I can’t honestly say I even remember what this post was about, but I’m pretty sure I don’t need to communicate with you about any of it’s errors. Geesh!

 

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Attempt not torture.

Okay, I know the Liebsters are annoying, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say that they’re torture…

 

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While I’m a bit creeped out a site called ‘porn’ likes my blog, I’m more disturbed that they’re going to be careful of brussels. What did those innocent green sprouts ever do to them?

 

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And while you may say a lot of things about my blog…

Too complicated isn’t usually the first thing that comes to mind.

 

 

So ends the respite in between vacation post series.

Cape Cod here we come!

(Yes, it was a single post respite. Hope you enjoyed it!)

White Mountains trip…. last night, last day, last post in the series.

 

A full day of resort hopping on day 7 made us hungry so we stopped at an inn near our resort that had a well recommended British pub/restaurant.

 

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The Jolly Drayman seemed inviting enough.

 

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And though it was a very small place with limited seating…

 

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I was willing to like it.

It’s a shame I couldn’t.

 

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What English pub worth it’s salt only has 1 British beer on tap? Where was the Harp? The Smithwicks? The Old Speckled Hen? Yes, there was Guinness thank God….

But Pabst Blue Ribbon? Come on!

It went downhill from there.

 

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A limited menu.

A disinterested, unfriendly server.

Uncomfortable seats.

 

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And the worst beef Wellington I’ve ever had.

 

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The husband had a not nearly hot enough beef stew ( with mashed potatoes?)  that must have weighed 12 pounds…  served in a fish bowl.

 

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Framed fart humor not withstanding….

I wouldn’t go back.

Day 8…. the departure.

One more breakfast under the canoe.

 

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And beside the twig lights.

 

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We checked out and said goodbye to the dangerous looking ski motif rocking chairs…

 

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And laughed at the resort’s wedding advertisement for the last time.

 

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Heck, that’s as good a reason as any… right?

 

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Through one more covered bridge…

 

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And because you know my husband can’t drive past an antique store.

 

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Funny part is, I went outside to wait for him because the owner was a crotchety old man I didn’t like the look of.

A few minutes later the husband comes out and I can hear that old man screeching his lungs out like a lunatic, cursing my husband from here to next Sunday.

Apparently husband had the audacity to take an old magazine out of it’s plastic sleeve and flip through it. Guess that’s a no no in the mountains.

Anyway, vacation over.

Home safe and sound with…. how shall we say?

 

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Some coffee and a few beauty products for my cabinets.

Hey, if they’re going to charge an extra $25 resort fee per day for that lousy condo?

I’m going to fill my suitcase on the way out.

 

 

The end.

(You may now officially breathe that sigh of relief you’ve been holding.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Resort hopping Part 3… The Eagle Mountain House.

 

Last on our list of resorts that day was an old and well known establishment.

 

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New England is full of quirky places like this.

 

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With a nice big porch…

 

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And a nice big view…

 

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It was a pleasant spot to end the day.

 

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Charming…

 

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Cozy…

 

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And full of antiques….

 

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It was instantly welcoming.

 

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I can’t say it any better than that.

 

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The bar.

 

 

Oh, stuff it Dorothy.

You know us better by now.

 

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But amusing sign aside…

 

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The mushroom risotto cake appetizer left a lot to be desired, as did the cranberry gin fizz.

A definite meh.

 

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We only stayed for one round and then headed into the gift shop… where I saw a wine tag that made me laugh.

 

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As well as…

Are you ready for this?

A bucket of ducks!

 

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Christ on a cracker….enough with the rubber ducks.

This was getting creepy.

 

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Bidding farewell to the hotel, and the ducks….

 

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It took all I could do to convince the husband he could not go rummage in the establishment’s old slate roofed barn.

 

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The mere thought of not being able to gather up all the unloved tools and rusted treasures that must be stored in there? Practically ruined his night…

 

 

Resort hopping Part 2. The Mountain View Grand.

 

Hidden away in tiny Whitefield, New Hampshire is a gem.

 

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A sprawling hotel…

 

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Packed with old world charm.

Sadly they were renovating the front entrance when we visited so we had to sneak in the side.

 

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Look at those doors!

 

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Chess anyone?

 

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I’m a sucker for a good porch.

 

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And this one did not disappoint.

 

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I could happily plop here with a good book….

 

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A pitcher of margaritas…

 

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And never leave.

 

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Back inside, I checked out the wall of history…

 

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And some great old photographs…

 

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While the husband continued his “I shall pee everywhere I can in Western Maine and New Hampshire” challenge with an upscale rest room this time.

And speaking of rest rooms…

 

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Even I had to check out the pink marble in theirs.

But ooh la la…

 

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There were private sinks inside the ladies room stalls.

Is that some chic shit or what?

 

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Moving on through the lounge…

 

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We found a dining room… and the place where we would spend the next two hours.

 

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The bar.

 

 

Don’t look surprised, you knew it was coming.

 

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One Lemonflower Martini…

 

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One Cranberry Orange Margarita…

 

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And one Melon Margarita later…

 

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(Don’t judge me.

They had a 6 page cocktail list and tequila soaked cranberries…. I had to.)

 

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There were some crab cakes.

Some smiley face crab cakes… and yes, that was on purpose.

 

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Crab cakes weren’t supposed to be served that time of day, or at all in the tavern for that matter….. but when you make friends with the bartender?

Anything is possible.

 

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An afternoon well spent, we poured ourselves out the door.

 

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And lamented the fact we wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

 

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Even mid facelift..

She’s an elegant old broad.