.
Because we could all use a bit more of that these days.
.
.
Maybe not, but it looks like a lot more fun.
.
.
I’m confused. In my glory days my breasts looked nothing like a cow….
.
.
And by now? My tolerance is pretty high.
.
.
If he’s like me, it’s the fact that your sentence ends with a preposition.
.
.
In Maine, things can be a little different.
.
.
But a definitely good kind of different.
.
.
I lobbied hard for this cute little piggy joining the Casa River family ( for pure blog fodder alone, he’s golden ) but was met with a resounding no from the husband.
Sorry Wilbur.
.
.
Mysteriously multiplying tin cows?
I really do love my town.
.
.
Since hugging friends and family has been a definite no no for the past year, I’m offering an alternative.
.
.
Bovine cuddles!
.
.
I wish I’d known about this when we were in Arizona. Giving a cow a belly rub has to be better than the 3 days I spent in bed with altitude sickness. And in case you didn’t know, this is apparently a trend. Shortly after I read that article I found the following on my town’s Facebook page.
.
.
I may not have to travel after all.
.
.
No cows were available, but the goats are booked solid. Who knew livestock was so lovable….
.
.
In the continuing series Small Town Life Be Different…. here are the latest missives from mine.
.
.
This was so sweet. Our local UPS man… who distributes doggie treats on his route… is in the hospital with pneumonia, so all his four legged customers posted pictures.
.
.
Because traffic alerts in the country are less about speeding and more about manure.
.
.
Every year the women of the Historical Society sew a quilt with local scenes to be auctioned off.
.
.
The Town Office bought the first one where it still hangs proudly.
.
.
Yes, I showed this to the husband. And no, he hasn’t removed his absolutely no chickens ban.
.
.
Yikes. Critters that crawl under your house and die are the worst. But I can’t say I’ve ever known one to stink of garlic. And speaking of stinking…
.
.
Word to the wise… if you think it’s your year? It most definitely is. 🤢
.
.
As he predicted, this man’s post got a whole lotta hate. He’s new to the area… and I’m guessing he isn’t going to be very popular. Buying a house in a rural part of Maine means generations of the previous owners might still be inhabiting your back 40. A man up the road from us has a cemetery from the late 1700’s on his land. He doesn’t know the family or their descendants, but lovingly cares for the plot all the same. It’s called respect.
.
.
Because I’m still trying to find the humor in this shit show.
.
.
They did. They really did…
.
.
I feel like that’s actually happening. Not airborne bovines, but the decided lack of amazement. After surviving 2020? Nothing will faze me.
.
.
This makes a morbid kind of sense.
.
.
Uh oh.
.
.
Wish me luck!
.
.
I’m afraid I’m already there…
.
I also love all the ridiculous things people post about on its Facebook page.
In case you were wondering, no one volunteered to remove the stinky little bugger and he was released.
Skunk-1
Homeowner-0.
A reasonable response, but hell.
I didn’t even know we had a potato truck!
I showed this to the husband…. but he said there’s no room in the barn.
😡
I don’t know…
Cowbusters?
I hate when someone beats me to the perfect comment, don’t you?
A chicken plucker!
I’m shivering in avian sympathy.
Never let it be said life with my husband is dull.
Take the other day for example…. he asked me if I wanted to go for a ride up the coast.
Envisioning a leisurely scenic drive along the crystal blue ocean, I jumped at the chance.
This is where we ended up.
A salvage yard.
And it’s a testament to how much I love that man that I was actually thrilled.
Thrilled that he was willing to throw a few things out and not dump pick to add to his collection.
Marriage.
It’s funny that way.
Although what this sign was originally warning against I’m sure I don’t know.
Beware!
Oreo cows ahead?
Time for an update on the stories making the news on my town’s Facebook page.
Traffic jams are awful, no two ways about it…..
But in my town?
They’re not always bumper to bumper.
And then there was this:
No, damn it! I did not.
We’ve lived here over 17 years and the only moose I’ve seen was a dead one on I-95.
Trotting right down Main Street?
Another missed opportunity.
And finally, there was this:
My first thought was the zombie fish apocalypse had begun… and I started to get a little nervous.
But it turns out a bald eagle was fishing the river, dropped his sturgeon while flying and decided to munch on it in situ.
Because the thought of zombie fish taking over my blog?
Not cool.
My town’s FB page keeps me up to date on all the important local happenings…
And some of the not so important ones as well.
There were a lot of takers for this next one…
I’m just hoping this wasn’t their mode of transportation.
Another lost pig made the news…
And he seemed pretty happy to stay that way.
Then there was a woman wondering if anyone was interested in a group she was getting together.
Singing bowls?
Clearly she attended one of those crazy adult education classes I’m always riffing about.
And finally there was this one, posted on the day Maine made cell phone usage while driving illegal.
Technically it’s not about my town, but funny all the same.
Goat horn foreheads should never be overlooked.
Thank you Google Images for providing my nightmare material for the foreseeable future.
**Shudders**
We hadn’t been to the Topsham Fair in years, and after going the other day I remembered why.
Maine has some fabulous county fairs….. but this isn’t one of them.
With a $12 charge per person to get in? There should have been more… everything.
We started with the livestock, because I do love me some critters.
I got up close and personal with sheep….
While the husband chatted up a cow.
This cow was lying down.
As was her owner…
And it took all my willpower not to yell at him to drop his phone and learn how to spell her name properly.
Sorry El….
This cow had a little speck of something on her nose…
Which proved to be no problem.
Yes, that’s her tongue. And she knew how to use it.
Did you know…
Cows can’t vomit?
I live to enlighten.
We saw ox, and horses.
Some huge.
Some small.
We saw pigs…
With lots of baby pigs…
And goats..
With some pretty big…
Sorry…. but holy crap!
How do you walk with balls that big?
We strolled around looking for the chicken barn….
Only to discover there wasn’t one.
Very disappointing.
And then we walked past the “Decorate a Bale of Hay” contest.
Which… yeah.
Was a bit odd.
I temporarily lost the husband to some old rusty crap.
And found him checking out some sweet old vehicles for sale.
We meandered through the collection of carriages and sleighs which we always love…
And found a cannon…
With a strategically placed ball.
In a sack.
Tell me someone doesn’t have a sense of humor….
We made the obligatory walk through the exhibition hall.
But the Blue Ribbon rhubarb failed to thrill.
And aside from the carnival rides we didn’t ride and the roach coach junk food that we didn’t eat, that was it….
Until I spotted George.
And fell in love.
I mean… look at him!
George is an Emu.
Homely…
Humble..
And despite the prehistoric raptor like gaze, quite friendly.
Here’s some riveting video of him drinking water.
And a little something closer up.
He’s over 6 foot tall, with coarse dense feathers.
Yes, we bonded…. and I petted him.
Totally worth the $12 admission price.
River's world..... 