Tag Archives: cats

A little of this and a whole lotta nothing.

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The husband and I reluctantly stopped at a tourist-centric restaurant last week which is something we try hard to avoid. Why do we dislike the tourist places? The seafood is usually sub par, ( it was ) the decor is usually tacky ( plastic lobsters, fake fishing nets) and the menu usually contains pictures they think tourists want to see.

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This is the world’s largest lobster roll, it sells for $100 and if you finish the whole thing by yourself? You’re made a member of the clean plate club. But that picture? Just… no.

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Required photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten watching a flock of starlings.

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Finally…. An advent calendar I can get behind. Or under as the case may be.

👍

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It poured the other night and as you can see…. the husband’s latest roof repair did not hold up. And if that wasn’t bad enough, my latest patch job turned out to be perfect for funneling water down the wall and creating liquid filled bubbles. This has been going on so long I’m tempted to just wrap the house in plastic and call it good.

🥴

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I’ve been known to have an epiphany or two while drinking, but wine that tastes God? That’s a whole other ball of wax.

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Color me surprised. I had absolutely no idea.

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Another one bites the dust.

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His Lordship was on high alert after hearing something in the backyard stone wall.

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Not finding anything, he tried the front lawn stone wall.

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After narrowly missing a chipmunk there….

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He returned to the back lawn stone wall… and waited.

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Patience paid off. He snatched a mouse out of a rock crevice and ran with it to the back door, which was thankfully closed. Rodent death was fairly quick this time around …

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So Dudley got bored with his prize and headed back to the wall. Leaving another fresh carcass for yours truly.

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Is it me?

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Christina’s World is one of Andrew Wyeth’s most famous paintings.

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So surely I can’t be the only one who sees the similarities here….

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Let’s examine the Museum of Modern Art’s description. I’ve circled the pertinent parts for comparison.

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Am I right, or am I right?

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And while Lord Dudley doesn’t have polio like poor Christina, he does share her propensity for crawling…. so I’m calling it.

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Random drivel

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We enjoy our nightly skunk visitors, occasional air pollution aside. They’re comical to watch but their presence often involves residual piles of poo. That normally isn’t an issue, but this morning’s deposit has definitely crossed the line.

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What up skunk!

Three acres of grass, fields and woods and you have to void your bowels on our kitchen landing?

Not cool skunk, most assuredly not cool.

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Well that’s a unique wine review.

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And apparently not well received.

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Have you ever wondered what your cat is really thinking? Judging from this picture of Lord Dudley Mountcatten, I’ve done something unforgivable.

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Damn it, now I can’t either.

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This is getting old.

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It rained heavily the other night, which means I woke up to this.

Again.

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My husband puts a paper towel in the bowl because he can’t stand to hear the dripping. This from the man who has the audio level of the television at 31.

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No matter how many times he fixes, replaces sections of, tars or flashes the roof?

This.

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It’s enough to make me scream because it doesn’t happen every time. We can have a rip roarer of a downpour and it will be fine. Then a normal shower will cause a breakthrough.

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So I bleached and patched the ceiling, again. Cursing under my breath the entire time.

Lord Dudley Mountcatten?

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Didn’t seem overly concerned.

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Walkies!

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Yes, it finally happened.

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Lord Dudley Mountcatten…. walked. In the harness. On the leash. Of his own accord.

Be still my heart.

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After weeks of useless excursions when all he did was glance at me in disdain…. the other day he suited up and hit the door running.

Well, strolling is more accurate but I’ll take it. No fuss, no fight. He walked across the lawn, around the barn and woodshed, climbed the front stone wall, got tangled up in the bird bath and even lead me over to the apple trees.

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Which he found quite fascinating.

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I was happy to let him sit in the crook of the tree sniffing and scratching the bark, but then before I could react….

Bam!

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The little devil was scrambling up the tree with me still holding the leash. He wouldn’t come down, so I had to go up, and it wasn’t pretty.

Ever try to wrangle a leashed and harnessed cat out of a tree? It’s not a smooth process and I don’t recommend it.

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Upon retrieval, his Lordship was exhausted and happily plopped in the shade. I, on the other hand, examined my scratched arms, broken nail and twig infested hair.

And if that wasn’t bad enough? This morning I woke up with a wicked brown tail moth rash on my neck.

Needless to say we will be giving the apple trees a wide berth from now on.

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