Personally, I would love a pet skunk. They’re affectionate and trainable to a litter box. We have them visit under our bird feeders every night and they are absolutely, positively, frickin’ adorable! But Maine made it illegal to capture and de-scent the little buggers years ago, so boo to that.
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Yup.
That looks about right.
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Pulp Fiction – 2020 style.
And if you don’t believe in masks but are still responsible enough to wear one?
And if you doubt the veracity of that statement, try living without it for a few days like we are.
Bright and early Wednesday morning, 3 men were in deep thought.
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The man on the ground is our wonderful neighbor who brought over his toy to dig a hole.
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A hole was dug.
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A wet and muddy hole filled with water from a broken pipe.
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More deep thinking was called for.
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The ‘let’s put wood in the hole filled with water so we can stand on it‘ idea did not work out as planned. Color me surprised.
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Youngest member of the team was sent down in hole anyway. (Please note he is a master plumber who planned ahead for the avoidance of butt crack photos, for which I was quite thankful.)
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The broken pipe was found and luckily it was right next to the well access so we didn’t have to tear up more lawn or the house foundation.
Solution to the problem? Bypass the existing two pipe configuration, get rid of our not that old damn it! interior water pump system…
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And install an exterior submersible pump made of stainless steel. This meant pulling up the existing water line that runs down into the well… and since that cover hadn’t been opened since 1974?
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It was not an easy job. And when things don’t come apart easily?
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It’s time for the sledgehammer.
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A whole lotta pulling followed.
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I never knew how far down our well was before this.
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But apparently it’s slightly over 90 feet.
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Young guy was sent down into the hole again.
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And of course because this is a job at our house, nothing went right or smoothly.
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Since the old pipe was cracked, it had sucked in copious amounts of dirt and sand that had to be flushed before the wire to the new pump could be pushed through to the house. Nothing worked. Trips were taken back and forth to the plumber’s shop for different tools. Trips were taken to hardware stores for extra supplies and finally… after an entire afternoon of battling… they broke through. Only to move on to the next step and realize a different size pump needed to be ordered.
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To be honest, I wasn’t either. Welcome to my world … please bring alcohol.
So a less than wonderful Wednesday ended like this: open water lines actively pissing muddy water from the flooded hole into our cellar.
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And notes like this pasted all around our house.
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No drinking water, no toilet flushing water, no using dishes and glasses you have to wash… and worst of all, no shower.
Still don’t think water is life? Try not showering for 3 days and get back to me.
It was with great sadness that I read the recent news reports from your state. I can only imagine the confusion, the shock, and yes… the absolute horror that this announcement brought.
If there’s anything I can do to help your devastated citizens who will struggle during this time of crisis, please don’t hesitate to ask.
Yours most sincerely,
River
No. I didn’t send that letter…. but I should.
I should, because I just discovered this:
Pennsylvania closes all state liquor stores indefinitely
All Pennsylvania state liquor stores and licensee service centers will close indefinitely tomorrow at 9 p.m. ET, the Pennsylvania Liquor Control Board announced.
“This was a tremendously difficult decision to make, and we understand the disruption our store closures will have on consumers and licensees across the commonwealth,” Board Chairman Tim Holden said in a statement.
Holden continued:
“But in these uncertain and unprecedented times, the public health crisis and mitigation effort must take priority over the sale of wine and spirits, as the health and safety of our employees and communities is paramount.”
The liquor control board handles all beverage alcohol distribution in Pennsylvania, operating nearly 600 wine and spirits stores statewide. It licenses 20,000 alcohol producers, retailers, and handlers, according to the statement.
So we got up bright and early to make the almost 5 hour drive down to North Carolina.
Required Christmas selfie.
And as we were walking down the sidewalk of our resort it struck me…..
I might not be the only one who cursed my husband’s choice of the behemoth rental car.
It was an uneventful trip.
But we saw lots of cotton.
Really, a whole lot of cotton.
And absolutely nothing else. Nothing for miles and miles… except cotton… and I was starting to sweat the steadily dropping level of gasoline.
Behemoths be thirsty.
I also took issue with Apple maps when the GPS put us in the middle of a National Forest and told us to turn around.
WTF?
When the rental beast was pretty much running on fumes, we finally found a service station to fill it…. and us, since we skipped breakfast. The only choice was Subway, where I ordered a rotisserie chicken wrap and managed to leak half of the sauce on my blouse resulting in a large greasy stain.
My first words upon arrival in N.C. weren’t “Merry Christmas!” but….. “Let me raid your closet.”
My second words were “What you would like to drink?” as I unpacked my carton of holiday cheer.
Destiny chose a bottle to match her sweater, because coordination is everything.
We gave them our gifts…. and Gracie liked the books.
Though I think she liked the pig a little bit more.
We spent time with our daughter of the heart’s step children, John being home on leave from the Army.
As you can see they aren’t young enough to be hers…. because like me, she married an older man. Which her mother thinks I’m responsible for and never lets me forget, but hey.
It worked for me.
An old Marine Corps buddy of the husband’s came with us…. and it was a laid back country Christmas with lots of love and laughter.
A few highlights:
My bartending skills were highly rated.
And strange toys were questioned.
Does a llama really need to shake her booty?
But more importantly, why was this horror voted toy of the year in Australia?
The eleventh day of our vacation started at our timeshare resort condo…
Where I found this:
A note from the grandchild of our hearts.
Sorry… but there’s no way better way to start the day than that.
Although biscuits and gravy with home fries comes close.
We had a full day of Christmas gift shopping ahead of us and needed hearty sustenance. And in the south?
That includes the options of scrapple, fried catfish, grits or bologna and eggs.
The husband’s utterly favorite breakfast is chipped beef on toast and he rarely finds it in Maine… so when we stumbled on the Southern Pancake and Waffle House in Williamsburg?
He wanted to go every morning…. which we pretty much did from then on.
But hey, there were chickens in every window so how could we lose?
Our first stop that day was a liquor store in anticipation of our upcoming Christmas Day in North Carolina.
For future reference…. the first way to tell you’re in a liquor store in the south?
There’s a still.
Still searching for that silly wine filter, I thought we could try Merchant’s Square…. which is the shopping section of Colonial Williamsburg I couldn’t get the husband to check out the previous week.
As with all areas there, it was lovely.
Filled with interesting high end shops… like this interior design place.
Giant double diamond ring light fixture anyone…?
We happily strolled aroiund, ducking in and out of the stores with all the other desperate Holy crap it’s Christmas Eve and I don’t have a gift! shoppers.
Naturally I had to buy a souvenir tee shirt –
Truer words were ne’er spoke.
And towards late afternoon when my stomach started grumbling?
This happened.
Someone saw the husband’s Marine Corps hat, said Semper Fi, and they were off….
On a 38 minute long conversation about who was stationed where, when and with whom.
Yes. I timed it….
While he talked?
I walked.
Agreed wholeheartedly with a sign.
And explored a little more…
Of the colonial town.
And hey, if you’re going to dress up in period costume and stand on the sidewalk?
Don’t give me the stink eye when I take your picture.
Turning back around hoping the other half had finished talking…
I saw snow.
Granted it wasn’t very much, but it surprised me to see any at all.
The ice skating rink surprised me as well.
In Maine we wait for ponds to freeze over.
In Virginia they just build one… and how they keep it frozen in 60 degree temperatures is a mystery to me.
I think we’ve established we are not theme park people.
So spending 6 hours at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg while on Christmas vacation?
It’s billed as the prettiest theme park in the country.
And while I doubt that’s a very high bar…..
It’s plastic fantastic fake European villages failed to impress….. seeing they were less village and more overpriced stores filled with gimmicky tourist merchandise.
It was enough to make me drink.
Warm Apple Pie Cocktail in hand… we continued.
(You knew it was coming, don’t look so surprised. If ever I was in dire need of alcohol? It was then.)
So we paid a fortune, had drinks in hand and a 7 year old who wanted to go on some rides. Problem was… most of them weren’t operational for Christmas.
This did not go over well with the little person in our midst.
She couldn’t drink, and she didn’t care about fake Europe… she just wanted some rides!
We found a few animals to distract her.
But it was cold and she was growing more bored with each step. Every ride we passed? Locked up tight.
And then viola!
I spotted a gondola.
3 adults and a midget. We’re in!
So we get on line.
A long line.
A very long line that took us almost 40 minutes to reach the end.
We boarded, anticipating a leisurely ride over the park.
And I kid you not, after taking this picture….
And this video….
Which lasted 40 seconds, we were done.
One second of ride for each minute we waited on line. Totally worth it!
Not.
We landed in “France”.
And you know what? I’ve been to France…. this wasn’t even close.
Still not finding a working ride, I spotted Hogwarts and the child’s eyes lit up.
Yay me!
Boo Busch Gardens…. it was blocked off and locked up tight.
I was beginning to hate this place.
Psychedelic camera toting bear aside.
Did I mention it was cold?
I mean down right freezing for southerners and even quite brisk for us Yankees after a few hours of walking.
At least this made her laugh.
If we had known all the fun kid stuff would be closed? We wouldn’t have gone in the afternoon but just waited until after dark for the lights.
Even the scooter brigade looked disappointed.
We did mange to find an old time carousel.
Where we waited on line for another 30 minutes to ride for 30 seconds. You could seriously get whiplash from how quickly these things end.
Magic dragons were climbed on….
Towers were explored….
More alcohol was needed….
Okay, maybe that was just me.
Rope bridges were crossed….
Even by the husband if you can believe it.
Another warm up station later, it was starting to get dark enough to see some lights.
And yes, as cold and miserable as I was….. I was going to wait until dark for the lights we paid almost $300 to see.
A preview…
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
