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The snow is gone, the grass is starting to green and with the promise of spring…
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Fox.
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Two foxes to be exact. Though they do tend to blend into the background this time of year.
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One under the bird feeders…
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And one hanging out in the back forty.
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We had a mated pair last year which makes me wonder if they’ve returned or thus is a new couple.
💕
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I’m pretty sure this first photo is AI generated, but I admit it made me smile.
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Rock on philodendron Robert.
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Adamantium corn skewers.
Need I say more?
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I had a good laugh at this article because it would totally be something I’d do. Mystery solved why the poor little thing wouldn’t eat.
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I saw this diabetic coma inducing treat on the menu when we went out to lunch the other day. Talk about overkill…
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It would be worth making these just to be able to answer the question “ What are you bringing to the potluck?” with… Moose Farts, but I’ll leave it to the more adventurous cooks amongst us. (Please note that’s not the full recipe. Don’t make farts and blame me when they fall apart)
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I love my state for many reasons.
Scenic beauty, fresh seafood and a huge selection of craft breweries to name a few.
But it’s the bizarre and completely quirky things that constantly reaffirm its perfection to me.
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No.
I’m not making this up.
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It positively screams for a meme.
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No doubt.
At least the male dorms…
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Perhaps the word crotch didn’t have the same connotation back then.
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And because I always do my due diligence when blogging about strange things, I punched “Katie’s Crotch Road” into my map app.
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It does indeed exist.
Though my iPhone seems a little puritanical when it comes to spelling.
🤣
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All you need is a tardigrade.
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The dude needs a manicure, but okay… I’m listening.
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At the rate my body is currently declining I would love to pause my biological clock. And if possible, reset it to age 29 when all my joints didn’t creak.
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That is one freaky looking fellow….
And is it me… or does he remind you of Robot in Lost in Space as well?
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Impressive, no?
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Sure, not physically. But the little guy could have survived Chernobyl… props for that.
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Sign me up for that flick!
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I have to admit the more I look at this critter …. the more I like him.
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I mean, come on….
He’s smiling.
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Admit it, you want one.
🤣
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During our last N’or Easter, my poor choke cherry tree took a hit.
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It’s an old ragged tree that was here when we moved in 20 years ago, but the blooms are lovely in the spring and the cherries are bright red in the fall… even if they are inedible.
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With all the rain and melting snow we’ve had, the high wind busted off quite a few limbs.
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So my husband went out to deal with the mess.
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And disturbed a few woodchucks who were sunning themselves on the stone wall in the process.
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It’s been a while since my husband has fired up the chain saw.
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And the fumes were toxic.
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But once the air cleared, my poor tree got a trim.
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And the wood shed got a pile of cherry.
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🥺
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Because someone has to filter through all this nonsense.
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Poor Molly.
No one even bought her dinner first…
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Canned sausage gravy is an abomination and cannot be elevated.
Ever.
The end.
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Sounds like someone watched a few too many Weekend at Bernie’s reruns.
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Let’s not and say we did.
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Just when I thought AI couldn’t possibly be any more horrifying.
😳
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Because you enjoyed part 1 so much.
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Good luck out running that.
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You might want to get an umbrella instead.
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Trillions of peeing insects would be enough to send me scurrying for cover.
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Their idea of Mardi Gras fun and mine differ greatly.
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While bugs don’t bother me, I have to admit I’m glad I’m not in the peeing path of their hatchings this year.
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Don’t drink bug pee.
Words to live by right there.
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So, yeah.
Have fun with that.
And please remember to blog the event.
😉
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I never used to be an early riser. But when you live with a man who’s gotten up at 4:00am for the past forty years sleeping in is impossible.
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Of course getting up at the crack of dawn does have its perks…
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Sunrise being one of them.
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Sometimes it seems as if our backyard is on fire.
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💕
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I really need to up my game when thrifting because the people on this page are leaving me in the dust.
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Hosting a dinner party back in the day clearly required some serious skill.
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What the utter Hell is that?
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Because no one wants to take the time to plug in a crystal when you really need one now.
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That’s some ugly ass spelling as well.
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Speaking as a juvenile delinquent who smuggled shoulder harnessed squeezable flasks filled with alcohol into every concert venue she ever entered….
No.
There’s a line, and this is it.
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It’s that time of year.
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Red wing blackbirds, starlings and grackles swoop in and empty our feeders in no time flat.
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I can’t keep up.
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And aside from eating every last seed and crumb of suet I put out in record time…?
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They drive Lord Dudley Mountcatten absolutely nuts.
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River's world..... 