When it’s a wet and rainy afternoon you’re apt to find us in the man cave/Barn Mahal.
Sometimes alcohol is present.
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I’m blaming the Jack Abbeys blood orange wheat for that Scrabble tile arrangement.
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Red Sox game? Check.
Pizza? Check.
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Sweet Thai chili wings and more beer?
Double check.
Life is good.
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Looking out the window back at the garage, we saw a baby chuck perched on the woodshed’s extra room doorstep.
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They’ve completely taken over this little storage area and have dug such a big tunnel the door neither opens nor shuts. Good thing there’s nothing in there we need to retrieve…
Baby chucks are nibbling at an extremely rapid rate. But I’ve discovered they like broccoli stalks so I’m hoping I can keep their teeth busy for a while.
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We had a cool and wet June so the Baltimore Orioles who usually take off for colder, more northern parts when it starts to heat up are still here.
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And they’re devouring the oranges and grape jelly faster than I can replace them.
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The young males fight and squabble over the best position… but they sure are pretty.
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Cow!
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I love that I can say this every time I step outside instead of having to wait for a road trip.
My husband informs me that my nomenclature is incorrect as this is technically a young bull. But squealing bull! doesn’t have the same resonance… so I am compromising with Mister Cow!
This earns an eye roll and a head shake which somehow makes it even more perfect.
😈
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Here’s a giant field of lupine situated in an odd place.
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Next to the local dump. Trash never looked so good…
It may not taste like peppermint, but it always puts on a show.
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My lovely line of what once were bushy, thick and healthy marigolds has been nibbled to shreds. Don’t listen to gardeners who tell you nothing will eat them. The woodchucks are dining al fresco as we speak.
I realize I haven’t done an update on my husband’s sister lately. There’s never anything good to report, but life goes on.
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Here’s a sad picture… my husband cutting up the food his sister won’t eat at the nursing home. Hard to believe she’s the younger sibling of the two. There’s no good news here, she’s terminal and hanging on even though she doesn’t want to. Her breathing is labored and painful and yet she tries to bum cigarettes from nurses and other patients. We visit once or twice a week and try to be cheerful but making conversation with someone who’s every other sentence is about wanting to die is heartbreaking. It’s such a sad situation and at this point, though I hate to admit it… her passing will almost be a blessing.
On a happier note I bring you squirrel splooting.
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Yes, that’s what it’s called when squirrels lay flat on their bellies to cool off.
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In other news our local pub has a bartender who experiments with alcohol infusions. I’m happy to say the strawberry mint rum was a winner and makes a fabulous mojito.
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I should know, I had three… alongside some wonderful warm pretzel bites with beer cheese.
River's world..... 