Tag Archives: animals

Cape Cod Day 3… Plimoth Plantation. Goats, beer, a cranky llama and the Mooflower

 

Continuing through the English settlement we saw garden plots…

 

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And goats.

 

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Who liked a good chin scratch.

 

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I mean really liked a good chin scratch. This guy followed me the entire length of the fence.

 

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We met a young man chopping firewood…

 

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Who when asked what was in his flask, replied “Beer, of course. The water will make you sick.”

 

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We discovered beer was quite popular in those days.

 

 

 

And if I had to cook all my meals in that contraption behind the women?

 

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I’d drink beer everyday as well.

 

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Colonists popped out at you everywhere…

 

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Some friendly…

 

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Some not.

 

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This woman was the Governor’s wife and therefor had a slightly better home. With wood floors and a proper chimney.

 

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Although the quality of workmanship seemed about the same.

Finished with the colony, we moved on to the museum with it’s eel pot…

 

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It’s sea suit.

 

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And because I knew you’d ask…

 

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And it’s Mayflower provision list.

 

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250 lbs of bacon and 280 lbs of butter… That will hold me for 8 weeks, but what will the rest of you eat?

 

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Though I do have to say, that list seems a little suspect. Considering margarine was invented in 1868 and Rice Krispies in 1927…I highly doubt they were aboard the original ship in 1620.

WTH?

But the museum did have the Mooflower….

 

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And an anatomically correct, trouser wearing, sea going cow vessel?

 

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Makes up for a lot of historical inaccuracies.

 

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Last up was the petting barn where we found…

 

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Yes.

One rabbit…

Apparently the pilgrims ate everyone else before we got there.

 

 

But then we saw…

 

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So we met Hyacinth.

 

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And may I just say?

 

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She was a bitch.

I tried to pet her and almost lost a finger. She tried to head butt a few children and looked ready to go 12 rounds with a service dog that walked by.

 

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If you’re approaching that age when you yell at the kids to get off your lawn? Don’t get a shotgun…

Get a Hyacinth.

Cape Cod Day 3, Plimoth Plantation English colony.

 

Done with the Indian village, we walked through an exhibition hall full of 17th century replica pottery.

 

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It was a bit odd. But there was a still…

 

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And an 8 handed mug…

 

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So that probably explains it. That, and the fact water was often polluted so they drank mostly beer and/or alcohol.

Onward to the colonist’s settlement….

 

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First, the fort which commanded the high ground.

 

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With it’s wonderful old cannons.

 

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Then down into the settlement.

 

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It was explained to us that all the employees would be playing the parts of characters based on the original inhabitants, wearing authentic clothing and speaking in the language of the period. We were encouraged to interact with them as such.

 

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Before visiting here I was under the impression that the Pilgrims came to the new world to escape religious persecution. And while that’s true to an extent, it’s not the whole story. They actually fled to the Netherlands first, which explains all the windmills you see in this part of the country.

Read about it here.

 

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The settlers in Plymouth were actually sponsored by England to colonize America. They were given ship’s passage and supplies and were expected to send back goods (mostly furs and pelts) to repay the investment. After 7 years of this, they were granted land… something working class people had no hope of obtaining back home.

 

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Of course nothing went as planned. They were supposed to land in New York, but they landed in Massachusetts. They were supposed to land in September, but they landed in December.

 

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They were supposed to fish for food, but there were no fisherman. They were supposed to build a town, but there were no trained carpenters.

Piss poor planning if you ask me.

Hell, a large percentage of them didn’t even live through the first winter.

 

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But they’d brought some livestock…

 

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And as we know, managed to survive if not yet thrive.

 

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This fellow was trying to frame a window.

 

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On the exterior of this house.

 

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And if you think the Indians had it bad, imagine 15 people living and sleeping in here at a time.

 

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Check out the slight list of the house on the far right. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the husband had a hand in it’s construction.

Personally, I loved the roofs…

 

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Fashioned from rolled reeds, they begged to be petted.

 

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In the next house we found this fellow, and the husband initiated a conversation.

 

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I’m guessing the man had stage experience, because he was seriously deep in character.

 

 

Working there must be an interesting job.

 

 

 

Polar caves Part 5. The finale…

 

Done with the caves, we thought we were done with the park but there was still a little left to explore.

 

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A nature path through the woods.

 

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Leading past a sugar shack…

 

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And an old tree.

Do I post fascinating stuff or what?

 

 

Stop that!

 

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There was a rock set up for climbing….

 

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As well as one with some munchies on top.

 

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And you know what?

Still better than kale.

 

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We kept hiking.

 

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Up some rocks…

 

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And some stairs…

 

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And oh boy! The husband’s face says it all…

More stairs.

 

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To be honest there wasn’t much more to see. But we found a gazebo on our way back down… with rather questionable graffiti.

 

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Okay.

I’m not sure that needed be to advertised…. but whatever floats your boat.

 

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One more smooth path down…

 

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And we neared the exit.

 

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Where I had to stop and feed those precious European fallow deer again.

 

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Such little cuties.

 

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Polar Caves… the end!

Half a day experiencing it , 5 days blogging about it.

Say what you want about me… (and I’m sure you will)

You can’t say I’m not thorough.

 

White Mountains trip Day 3…. Polar Caves.

 

The Polar Caves in Rumney, NH was one of the few tourist destinations on my list. While we usually prefer natural wild places, I’d read good reviews on this multi generational family run spot and figured we should check it out.

Happily we showed up on the last day of the year that they’re open and didn’t have to fight the crowds.

 

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I knew I was going to like it when we saw a large oak tree in the parking lot with this sign underneath…

 

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You have to appreciate that kind of thoughtfulness, if not their spelling.

 

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I had my doubts after buying tickets in the ticky tacky gift shop and walking outside to find the usual giant Adirondak chair.

And when we saw the creepy anorexic polar bears?

 

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I figured I’d made a mistake.

 

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But the small petting zoo charmed me…

 

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With it’s precious European fallow deer…

 

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That we had to feed…

 

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And pet.

 

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I mean really…. could you resist that face?

 

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They make the funniest noise when they vocalize, almost a squeak.

 

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And after having his say, this guy almost fell asleep.

 

 

 

Look how small they are. I told the husband I could easily fit a couple in the barn, but he wasn’t amused.

There were also some gorgeous Chinese pheasants.

 

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Although they were hard to photograph due to the cages and a moat around the outside that keeps pesky children’s fingers away.

 

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The tails on the males were pretty impressive.

 

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As were their colors.

 

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But this little guy stole my heart.

 

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Look at him…

 

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He’s a Dr. Seuss bird come to life!

Autumn woes.

 

Just some deer…

 

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And last month’s backyard fall leaves.

 

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I fear for our resident buck this time of year.

 

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Bow season in October, rifle season in November, black powder season in December.

 

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Three months of abject slaughter I will never understand.

 

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I’m tired of the culling argument. Mother Nature takes care of her own…. and hunters don’t want the small and the weak.

 

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They want the big racks. (Of course they do, they’re men.)

They kill the strongest, largest and healthiest buck they can find…. which means those genes won’t get passed on.

 

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Meanwhile, Momma’s fawns are growing up.

 

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No more spotted Bambis.

 

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And the does enjoy a treat before cold weather sets in….

White Mountains trip Day 2… Moose, mountains and fall colors.

 

Moose.

When you think of Maine? You think of lobster… and moose. But let me tell you, I’ve lived here on and off since 1978 and have seen exactly one moose in the wild. Granted we live in the Mid Coast region and they’re more prevalent up north, but still… one in 41 years is not a good ratio.

 

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So when we crossed the border into New Hampshire after leaving the Moose Cave in Grafton Notch….. and I saw numerous signs warning of the dangers of moose crossings?

I thought, yeah.

 

 

We’ll never see one.

Until we did.

Right there on the side of the road…

 

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A moose!

 

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Happily munching away on some swamp grasses.

A real live moose!

 

 

And I was halfway out of the car to get some really good pictures when the husband said no. This was a teenage male and though he was probably too young to rut…. it was that time of year.

 

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So I had to stalk him from an open window instead.

 

 

But I saw a moose!

My second in 41 years…

 

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And then all too soon he was tired of us….

 

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And headed back to the woods.

 

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Goodbye moose….

I may not live long enough to see another wild one of you, but thanks for showing up and making my day.

As I said before, the fall colors were all over the place. We had an early turn this year so by the time we got to the mountains, many places were past peak foliage. But that doesn’t mean they weren’t still spectacular…

 

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Rusty oranges…

 

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Muted greens and yellows…

 

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Peaks of reds.

 

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Even speckled with rain, I’ll take them.

 

 

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It’s different around each bend.

 

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And around each bend?

 

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Another outhouse for the husband to christen.

 

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The journey continues….

 

 

Because everyone needs a drink.

 

Bird baths.

They’re not just for birds anymore….

 

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These little guys never used to drink here until an apple tree sprouted in my garden bed a few years ago.

 

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Now they’ve realized they can safely climb onto an overhanging branch and jump in.

Like I do…

 

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                         Actual photo of me last Saturday night.

 

Pardon the quality of these shots, but it was dark and I was shooting through a window.

 

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I’ve often wondered why the deer don’t stop to slake their thirst.

 

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Now, I have proof that they do.

 

 

 

 

 

Colors and critters.

 

Looking across the street to our neighbor’s organic vegetable farm is always interesting.

 

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But this time of year, it’s downright beautiful.

 

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Who knew artichokes could be so pretty?

And when our neighbor has wood chips delivered….

 

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HE HAS WOODCHIPS DELIVERED.

 

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When you’re a farmer’s child?

You don’t need no stinkin’ sandbox.

 

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On the critter front,

 

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We’re down to one lone woodchuck.

 

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He’s still fat…

 

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And still clumsy…

 

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And still hangs out on our deck once in a while. But it’s autumn, and all his brothers and sisters are finding dens and getting ready for winter. I doubt even this one will be here much longer.

Sigh…

 

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Autumn also means the deer are changing into their darker winter coats. One summer coated hold out is on the right for comparison.

 

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A murder of crows have now discovered our bird bath.

Why are they called a murder?

The Oxford English Dictionary suggests this is an allusion to the crow’s traditional association with violent death or its harsh and raucous cry.  If you’ve ever heard dozens of agitated crows in full cry, it really does sound as if they’re yelling bloody murder.

As long as they don’t murder me in my sleep, I don’t care what you call them.

 

 

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Uh oh.

 

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And finally, we have a new skunk in town.

 

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I admit I never really paid attention to skunk tails before, but we’ve had so many different families this year I’ve gotten to recognize them by their individual patterns.

This is Tippy.

 

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Brilliantly named for the white tip on her tail.

Is she really a she?

I neither know, nor care to get close enough to find out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

More random critters.

 

The photo files need purging again so…

 

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Mother woodchuck and her last baby.

The other 3 have taken off for parts unknown.

 

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And I get the feeling this final child isn’t the brightest bulb in the pack.

 

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Someone needs to tell him we eat from the bowl, not sit in it.

 

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Or lie in it for that matter.

 

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Our beautiful buck is back.

 

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Which makes me nervous as it’s hunting season.

 

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Fingers crossed no one breaks up his family.

 

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This little devil was perched on the feeder bar waiting for an unsuspecting meal the other morning…

 

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I saw feathers on the lawn later in the day, so mission accomplished.

 

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The flies have been thick for the past few days and target the deer mercilessly.

 

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It’s my opinion this doe was sticking her tongue out at the flies…

And not the photographer.

Finally, who needs video games….

 

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When you’ve got real live angry birds right on the back lawn?

 

 

This is not what you want to find when rebuilding….

 

Our old baby barn/shed has a dirt floor with heavy duty rubber mats on top. Due to numerous woodchuck holes and tunnels, we had to drag all the mats out. That sounded easy enough until I realized each one of them weighed the equivalent of an African elephant…

 

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Seriously.

A pregnant, morbidly obese African elephant carrying a suitcase I packed for an overnight trip.

 

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Did I mention they were all covered in pounds of dirt as well?

 

 

So as we’re moving the next to last mat…..

 

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This.

 

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A chipmunk burrow with tiny scraps of paper, plastic and leaves.

Upon further examination…

 

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A maze of tunnels, which I thought was pretty cool, until… it moved.

 

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Do you see the leg?

 

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Yeah.

 

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Not a tunnel.

A nursery…

 

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Which means we had to find the other end of the tunnel and relocate them. Not an easy task.

Five minutes after we found them?

Momma found us.

 

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And she wasn’t happy.

She ran around squawking and chirping and looking for her babies.

 

 

After a while I think she found them, because she stopped searching and started stuffing.

Stuffing her little cheek pouches full of all those little scraps of paper….

 

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And scurrying back for more.

Within minutes she’d cleaned up the whole lot.

Watch her cram a dried leaf that’s almost bigger than she is below.

(And please pardon my husband’s cursing. Things were not going well with the rebuild at this point…)

 

 

After we wasted time relocating chipmunks, we realized we had to relocate a bird’s nest as well.

 

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So many evictions.

I felt like an evil slumlord.

 

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Back to work…. and things did not go well.

Which was completely the husband’s fault.

 

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He had the crazy idea he could square the building properly  (After 40 plus years of Maine frost heaves? Madness!)  and changed the original footprint….. which in turn threw everything off kilter.

More good times.

 

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Did I mention he uses tools from the 1950’s picked up at a yard sale or the dump?

This little jewel feels like it weighs 50 lbs.

 

But he has the original box… and vintage lube.

So it’s special.

 

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P.S.  For those of you who pay attention, this post is actually out of sequence. That back wall is gone now. Apparently my blog scheduling has run amok.