Tag Archives: family

Maybe he should quit his day job.

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My husband’s cousin’s son (is that second cousin?) is a doctor. He was the first physician who diagnosed my late mother’s terminal cancer and was the epitome of professionalism with compassion.

And if that’s not impressive enough? I’ve just discovered he’s been hiding a whole lotta artistic talent under that white coat.

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Apparently the basement of his old Victorian home is being turned into a shrine to rock and roll.

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He just started posting pictures of his work and all I could think was, damn.

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The boy has mad skills.

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Damn her!

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Last weekend we invited the husband’s 4 sisters who live in Maine to a barbecue/pool tournament/behold the majesty of the Barn Mahal man cave/ party. It was a good time… except for one dastardly deed. You see one of his sisters brought this:

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After I specifically said we were grilling filet mignon… she had the audacity to contribute to the feast.

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A dozen lobsters, fresh from the ocean that morning. Damn her rotten black soul!

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I had to watch those succulent creatures being disbanded…

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Dropped in the pot…. ( Only 2 inches of water please. We steam, not boil )

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Covered with a lid ( And a brick. They tend to buck when dying. Hell, wouldn’t you? )

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Oh, the horror!

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The horror of watching everyone tuck into the delightful crustaceans I can no longer eat.

It was Hell. Pure, unadulterated Hell.

😫😫😫

The only pleasure I took was not being able to find our crackers and picks. Substitutions had to be made.

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Good thing the tool box was close by.

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The husband was schooled at the pool table by two of his sisters, which I thought was fitting punishment for consuming and enjoying lobster in front of his now allergic wife.

But once the party was over, the mess cleaned up and everyone went home… what was almost worse than watching everyone eat them?

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Seeing the two leftover red beauties every time I opened the fridge the next day and knowing I couldn’t make a lobster roll.

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Hell, I tell you.

It was Hell.

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Christmas in July?

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Some years, if we’re not traveling… we spend Christmas Day with friends. They tend to have less emotional baggage than family, and are generally a lot more fun. Of course last year, Covid ruined everything about the holidays and we neither traveled nor made merry with friends. Boo to global pandemics! They’re such a buzz kill.

Our friends, being fun loving (as well as gift greedy) have decided to celebrate 2020’s lost holiday in July. (It will be a barbecue/pool party at our friend’s newly purchased house/horse farm/how the Hell is a 50 something single woman going to take care of this huge spread by herself.)

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We’ve been invited and encouraged to get into the Christmas in July spirit…. so naturally I will be wearing this:

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Because nothing says Ho! Ho! Ho! like Santa in a mankini.

I will also be bringing this:

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A Covid themed piñata, so we can all take our frustrations over the past year out on something other than our spouses.

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Yes. To all of that. And I won’t be filling it with candy, no. In honor of the shit show that was 2020 I will fill it with these:

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What are those you ask? Only the perfect gift to give your friends in case certain items become hard to find again.

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Portable toilet paper! Am I a genius or what?

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And to further get into the Christmas spirit? I’ve purchased this 2020 totally went down the drain themed tree.

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I did not however purchase the accompanying ornaments.

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Tree turd danglers?

No.

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Definitely, no.

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When your brother gets on your last nerve.

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Two baby woodchucks showed up for apples yesterday. ( we put them out for the deer but these little guys are beating them to it )

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The chuck on the right seemed to be annoying his brother with his close proximity.

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Before long they were squabbling.

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And a sibling scuffle ensued.

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Left woodchuck held his ground, as well as his apple.

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And right woodchuck was forced to step aside.

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Family.

What are ya gonna do?

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Because sometimes I have a juvenile sense of humor.

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I’m sorry, but these are a hoot and I simply have to share.

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Yeah, you know it’s going to be good.

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Told you!

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Well yes, that’s just good manners.

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A footlong doesn’t require a blessing… it requires an exorcism.

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Family. It’s so important.

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When an eggplant just won’t do.

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Admit it, you’re snorting with laughter too.

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If you don’t have any plans today….

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Perhaps you’d like to hug a water buffalo.

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It’s free, and you have to admit the toddlers sure are cute.

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Of course inviting you to hug a calf and then directing you to the store to purchase a rump roast of his family is a bit rude….

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I hope no one tells this sweet little fellow Uncle Otto didn’t really go to Boca on vacation.

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*Gulp*

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Cultural differences.

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I read an article the other day that made me chuckle.

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The list was long, but here are a few highlights.

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Yikes. I am in no way, shape or form a penny pincher…. ( the jury is still out on arse ) but I always box up my uneaten goodies. This has nothing to do with being cheap and everything to do with not wanting to cook dinner the next day. Of course we’re talking about English food here, so it really isn’t a surprise no one wants to bring that home.

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Okay, I’m doomed. We spent 18 years in the south.. and smothered with sausage gravy is my very favorite way to eat biscuits.

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Fanny means vagina? I had an aunt named Fanny. (crazy, but true) Then again, she was a nasty old biddy who should have embraced her latent homosexuality instead of living alone and miserable all of her bitter loveless life… so, okay.

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Side note… Googling ‘Aunt Fanny’ makes me realize I am woefully out of touch.

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It’s beginning to look like I won’t be able to cross England off my bucket list. I drink fresh brewed unsweetened iced tea every day, winter, spring, summer and fall. Why do Brits have such an aversion to ice?

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Oh good grief. I’ve always used spunky as an adjective. Looks like I’m going to have to rethink that…

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Uh oh.

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I love my town.

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In the continuing series Small Town Life Be Different…. here are the latest missives from mine.

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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.

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Because traffic alerts in the country are less about speeding and more about manure.

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Every year the women of the Historical Society sew a quilt with local scenes to be auctioned off.

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The Town Office bought the first one where it still hangs proudly.

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Yes, I showed this to the husband. And no, he hasn’t removed his absolutely no chickens ban.

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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…

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Word to the wise… if you think it’s your year? It most definitely is. 🤢

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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.

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Dudley update.

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It took almost 3 weeks, but our new boy is settling in nicely and less skittish every day.

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Loud noises like the snow plow still send him under the bed … and the jury is still out on exterior wonders. He spied wild turkeys in the backyard the other day and growled from under the couch for 5 minutes straight.

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But he’s learning to trust us and coming out of his shell. Toys help, and I’ve retrieved that fuzzy ball from under the furniture enough times to require another visit to the orthopedist.

I think it’s safe to say I’m in love.

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Even my girlfriend recognized how much having a little guy around the house again means and sent a congratulations card.

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Dudley loves his squeaky mouse, but not when we wave the stick…. so I rigged up a do it yourself playground.

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I’m sure he’s grateful, though he doesn’t look it.

It should be noted that while I love dogs and all their slobbering appreciation? There’s something about the utter disdain cats show their humans which speaks to me.

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