Tag Archives: calendar

The April squirrel.

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In the continuing saga that is my kitchen calendar ( Bless you my loyal readers, the content here at River’s World is sometimes less than thought provoking ) we have now arrived at April.

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The rodent featured this month seems to be knee deep in a pagan celebration of spring. But seeing that we live in Maine, where May can bring snow …. our resident red bitch from Hell is probably not celebrating in kind.

No, more than likely she’s gathering up dead grasses and leaves in anticipation of building a nest for her future demon offspring in our one of our eaves.

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The battle continues.

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The March squirrel.

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It’s March first…. and that means it’s time for a new calendar squirrel.

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This month we see the little red devil has loaded up the kids and taken to the road.

Let it be known – I will gladly purchase a Barbie recreational vehicle if our furry red rodent from Hell will hit the highway. Heck, I’ll fill the damn thing with nuts if that’s what it takes for her to vacate the premises.

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Look, it even has a pool. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the little bitch will drown.

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Not worthy of their own posts.

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We drove through a small town the other day where I saw a building named after me.

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But it was a gym and not a bar, so clearly they have no idea who I am.

In news from the grocery store, it looks like there was a run on kitty litter.

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Are we hoarding that now? Damn. I didn’t get the memo.

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Ha! You have to love clever ad men.

And finally, I bought a calendar for the barn bar.

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It’s appropriate as fork.

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Random January shots…

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I know the picture is bad and you probably can’t read the writing, but this salon I drove by last week?

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Claimed to be The Best Little Hair House in Augusta…. and that made me laugh.

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This is the January squirrel from our new calendar…. and if momma red dons a pair of skis? I’ll be sure to post a picture of that as well.

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I think we’re all entering the new year with a little trepidation, aren’t we…?

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Look!

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Our contractor does exist! I even caught him putting on the third coat of polyurethane.

And I had to take this picture as well, because the husband is so thrilled he’s going to have a bar?

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He walks out there everyday and communes with it.

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Because I had to.

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As I was cruising Amazon for a calendar the other day, I realized there was only one choice.

Oh, I could have picked one with barns. Lord knows we’ve spent enough time and money on ours.

Or I could have picked one with white tailed deer. But we have plenty of those in the backyard.

And I could have picked one about beer. But the man cave has one of those already.

So what did I choose?

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Yes.

Not 12 months of red squirrels… but a full 18.

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Seeing all the trouble she’s caused us in the past year?

It seemed highly appropriate.

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Anne Taintor still gets me…

 

It’s time for another peak into my absolute favorite desk calendar.

And all these months later?

She can still read my mind.

 

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I think that one is self explanatory.

 

 

If you’re not familiar with Anne, she takes those innocent snapshots of the perfect 1950’s housewives and gives them a little twist.

 

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If that isn’t incentive enough to fly…

I don’t know what is.

 

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Yes….

Blue things have occasionally been found growing in the back of my refrigerator.

And we’re not talking Jello.

 

 

While I have often expressed this next sentiment…

 

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If you look very closely…

Happy housewife on the right appears to have been holding something that was digitally removed…. and it seems to have been oblong.

Was it a Twinkie? A hot dog?

Or was this Lorena Bobbit’s  grandmother?

Tough call.

 

 

And finally…

This has always been my philosophy.

 

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Smiling.

It’s so over rated.

 

 

Anne Taintor gets me.

 

Yes… she’s a Maine born, Harvard educated artist.

And yes… she addresses domestic stereotypes with humor and advertisements from a bygone era.

But ya know what?

This woman gets me.

 

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See what I mean?

 

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Shoes!

Her annual engagement calendar always has a prominent place on my desk and it never fails to make me smile.

 

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Oh, those perfect 1950’s housewives…. you know the ones –  perfectly coiffed, wearing high heels and pearls to wash dishes? The ones who got a little too excited over that new Hoover the husband bought them for their anniversary?

 

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I like to imagine they were thinking this way.

 

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I know I would have.

 

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And if my hubby gave me a Hoover on our anniversary?

 

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Yes, Anne.

You get me.