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Calm down, I’m not talking about this kind of moose…
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I’m talking about this kind:
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Damn right I do. But drinking in the man cave will be so much better with a moose head made from beer and liquor cardboard boxes for company.
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I could have gone with the deer…
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Or the eagle.
But this is Maine. It had to be the moose.
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It should be here next week.
Here’s hoping it’s half as much fun as the pictures.
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Climate change. One of the most important issues of our time.
Waters are warming, ice caps are shrinking, forests are burning. Hurricanes are more frequent, icebergs are melting, deserts are expanding. The precious ozone layer is being destroyed and temperatures are rising.
We know it, and yet most of us don’t care.
Well now hear this:
It’s beginning to affect the wine. …
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And shit just got real.
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Oh! The horror….
😱
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It never ceases to amaze me how different platforms communicate these days.
And by communicate, I mean stalk your every move and gather information to be used for targeted advertising.
Case in point… I clicked on this Wal Mart ad I saw on Facebook the other day because it looked ridiculous and might be good blog fodder.
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A half hour later I checked my WordPress account and noticed a new follower.
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That can’t be a coincidence.
Of course, I Googled Bombay’s new Bramble gin last week…
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And was hit with this ad on my Apple news feed later that day.
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It really is uncanny how well they know me.
🤣
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There’s a small company in Rollinsford New Hampshire that produces some very tasty hard cider. I discovered them at a bar in NH two years ago and have yet been able to find it in Maine.
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Welcome to part two of the liquid Saturday tour. North Country Cider.
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Housed on the bottom floor of an old mill.
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It was actually a tiny place, not much to see… but we were there, so we drank.
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The flight was interesting. I didn’t care for the cranberry…. but the Wulf Kitty, with tart cherry, tangerine zest and ginger? Ooh la la!
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After drinking our fill we walked around the old mill and realized they must have let the flood waters course right under the first floor back in the day.
Then it was back inside the store.
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Where I bought two four packs of Squashed, their seasonal offering that I had discovered and loved two years ago. Wood fire roasted Kabocha squash cider, with ginger and a hint of nutmeg. It’s bizarre, and quite delicious.
I also picked up a four pack of this:
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I have no idea how it tastes, but with a name like that? How could I not.
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Most of the time my Facebook ads get it wrong.
I don’t need ball wash soap or help with a bigger orgasm. I also don’t need ball hammock underwear, yet the hits just keep on coming. The latest is Halloween themed… and so very, very wrong.
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Do I need to see Frankenstein gettin’ his freak on? I most certainly do not.
But every once in a while, the algorithm hits a bit closer to the mark.
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And horrible grammatical translation aside, at least this one includes alcohol….with undertones of barn bar which we all know is near and dear to my heart.
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Sometimes Facebook gets it right.
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Like this store… that seems to be targeted to my sense of humor.
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Not always, but maybe. Alright… more than likely it is.
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Sounds like something I would do.
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I have an abundant supply, no problem.
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I’m definitely not. Remind me to tell you the story about my husband’s friend who called him at work to tell him to ‘get his wife under control’. Ha! As if.
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That’s me.
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Someday I’m going to have to buy one of these. It’s my favorite tag line and I’ve been searching for cocktail napkins with that phrase ever since we built the man cave bar…. to no avail.
😰
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Because my blog is nothing if not educational.
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I shall never look at Peter Rabbit the same way again.
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Nope.
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I know you tried that, because I did as well. But the fact that it’s called a weenus? That’s the real headline.
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This is extremely good news… and may be cause for celebration. Cheers!
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Not being a mother, I admit this next one freaked me out a little.
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What! I’m getting tiny Sam Elliot and Wilford Brimley visuals here…
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May I just say… eww. Is the womb so cold a place every fetus has to don a fur coat they later consume? This falls under the category ‘I actually wish I didn’t know that.’
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I have never been to Disneyland. Point of fact? I never want to go to Disneyland. Alive… or dead. Though I’m sure it would probably be less annoying if I could haunt that obnoxious mouse ear wearing family from DuBuque.
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I believe this was a modern art display.
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But come on….
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That’s got best selling product written all over it.
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We got a phone call telling us the leather chairs we’d ordered for the man cave were ready for pickup. Erring on the side of caution, I suggested we take the husband’s old truck in for a check up before making the long trip. In typical man fashion he thought this was a ridiculous idea, got aggravated with me for impugning the integrity of his baby and told me to schedule the furniture pick up for Friday.
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You knew where this was going…. right? The truck started sputtering and jerking when we hit I-95, an hour after we left home. I suggested we turn around and go back, but no. The husband had the bright idea to get off the highway and ride the back roads down to New Hampshire. This added at least 2 hours to our 2 1/2 trip. When we finally limped in to Nashua… which has awful stop and go traffic and endless traffic lights on the main drag… the truck was stalling every time it idled. I suggested we pull off the road, but no. The husband could literally see the warehouse where our chairs were patiently waiting. He didn’t pull over… so at the final red light? The truck died. Totally and completely died. Smoke pouring out from under the doors died. Yours truly had to jump out and help the husband push it off the busy road into a parking lot. With my bad knee. In case you were wondering…. pushing an 8 foot bed pickup is not on the approved radial meniscus tear exercise list. Ouch! We called AAA and were told due to a tow truck driver shortage it would be a 3 hour wait. Ever sit in a hot truck for 3 hours waiting on a tow? I don’t recommend it. At 4:30 that afternoon…
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The tow truck came, loaded our vehicle on the flat bed and promptly told us due to Covid restrictions we couldn’t ride back to Maine with him … and oh yeah, our coverage was only good for 100 miles. So they’d have to charge us $5 per mile for the overage.
😳
We paid, the truck went back to Maine…. and there was really only one thing left for us to do.
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I drank. I fumed. I ate southwestern egg rolls. I drank some more.
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There may have been eye rolling. (Who am I kidding, there was definitely eye rolling. )
And then I called a friend. A good friend who jumped in his brand new truck and drove over 2 hours to pick us… and our leather chairs … up. Good thing the warehouse was open until 8:00pm.
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We took him out for dinner and drinks. We filled his giant gas tank. I slipped $100 bill in his center console.
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We arrived home after midnight.
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Not the best time to move furniture, but when do we ever do anything the easy way?
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Did I mention the barn door (the free door my husband got at the dump) is a non standard size? The chairs got stuck 4 times. There may have been cursing, but at that point I was too tired to care.
We rolled in to bed about 1:30am…. and I thought the bad luck was over.
I was wrong.
To be continued….
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We had an odd sun reflection in our living room last week.
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Strange coincidence … or alien targeting technology?
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Time will tell.
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Martin, I immediately thought of you. But, blech! It’s still a giant no from where I’m sitting.
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A few of my friends might get this for Christmas. You know who you are… but what makes it odd is the label. ‘Nice Stuff For Mom’. I don’t know about you, but I never tipped back half a dozen martinis with my mother.
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And finally, anatomically correct beer glasses. While I can almost see the appeal of the female version…. the hourglass figure makes for a good grip… the male glass is more than a trifle disturbing.
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River's world..... 