Tag Archives: family

How many tables does one man need?

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After the Barn Mahal clean out… there was open space. Glorious, uncluttered open space. I knew it wouldn’t last, but I appreciated it all the same.

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And when I looked around? There was a table and chairs.

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Okay, we’re building a bar for that… but whatever.

The next day?

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There was another table and chairs.

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The day after that 3 more tables had migrated their way in. WTH? Is the husband planning on opening a cafe….

Which is exactly what I asked him during our inaugural beer.

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No, it wasn’t our first time on the nectar of the gods merry go round, but it was the first time we drank inside the barn, seated at a table, with heat.

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I never did get an answer to my why do you need 5 fricking tables question… but we did manage to get that stupid mobility scooter we wasted $850 on last year up and running again.

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We purchased it second hand for his brother, who swore he needed it… until we gave it to him free of charge, when he decided he didn’t want it after all. 😡

We tried selling it last year but didn’t have any luck. Now the husband wants it gone so I’m going to list it again… for half what we paid, damn it…. and see what happens.

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Note to self? It’s probably not a good idea to drink beer for hours and then fully charge a scooter.

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The following day I figured if I couldn’t beat the too many tables paradigm, I’d join it… and hung a little something of my own for flavor.

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Perfect!

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We did it!

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Success was hard won, but after another full of month of fruitless used car shopping, we finally found one for our niece.

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A 2012 Subaru Impreza hatchback which cost a lot more money than I planned on spending for a 19 year old’s first car…. but welcome to pandemic era shopping.

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The economy is iffy and people aren’t buying new, which means they aren’t trading old, which means a complete lack of decent inventory on the lots. The pickings are extremely slim in Maine and unless you’re willing to spend $11,000 plus (I wasn’t) or buy something with 225,000 miles (also a no) good frickin’ luck.

Thankfully the dealership where she fell in love with this one allowed us to drive it an hour away to have our trusty mechanics/old friends give it a thorough once over.

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They found a few minor things it needed,  while this fellow looked on…

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Hey, our friends run a high class garage…. and can apparently fix anything. Including the tin man.

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Okay, as evidenced by their Hooter calendar…. maybe not that high class.

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But they’re experienced and kind enough to examine the car for free, so I’ll excuse a few scantily clad bimbos.

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The car won their seal of approval… after telling us it needed new tires… and our niece let out an audible sigh of relief.

Time to celebrate.

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At the closest restaurant to the dealership while they got the paperwork together.

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Cheers to a young girl’s first car!

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And a hearty home style lunch. Corn and bacon chowder with a hot turkey sandwich for me. That damn thing was so big I ate off it for 3 days.

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Signing her own paperwork. With a man who needs serious instruction on mask protocol.

Big smiles and key in hand.

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A final hug for the best aunt and uncle on earth.

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A thumbs up behind the wheel…. and off she went back to college.

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One extremely happy camper.

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Yes, this is a thing.

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I don’t know why, but it is definitely a thing.

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Yes, now you can definitively prove your nasty neighbor’s pit bull did indeed hump poor little Twinkle.

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23 and Me take note, there’s a new dog in town.

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Is this really necessary?

No. But I found some fascinating ancestors when I researched my family tree so who knows? Your pooch may be Rin Tin Tin’s great great great great grandson on his mother’s side.

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Bowzer’s family tree.

Frame worthy for sure.

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Keeping a (blue) eye on Bambi.

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It’s been fun watching this little fawn grow up.

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Although sadly we’re watching his mother decline at the same time.

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Those blue eyes just slay me.

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Of all the deer we’ve had over the years, this is our first blue eyed visitor.

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Little one stays close to mom.

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Hope she’s around long enough to teach him what he needs to know…

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All present and accounted for.

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It’s turkey season.

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And that doesn’t bode well for our fine feathered visitors.

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Momma brought her seven babies for their first nosh under the bird feeders a few months ago…

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And they’re all still with her.

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You go momma.

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They’re comical birds to watch.

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Like big brown chickens who gobble instead of cluck.

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Though her babies are almost full grown, momma is still vigilant…

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And takes off at the slightest perceived threat.

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Picture of pretty backyard trees included… just because I can.

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The nightmare continues.

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We thought we’d found the perfect used car for our 19 year old niece. A 2008 Hyundai Sante Fe with only 60,000 miles. It was clean, had new tires, brakes, struts, alternator and battery. It rode well and shifted smoothly.

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It was a one owner car with a clean record.

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The price was on the low end of a fair market range.

But because I’ve gotten to the point where I don’t trust anyone, we took it to our trusted mechanic/old friend for a once over.

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He crawled under it to check for rust.

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He put it up on the lift to check whatever you check when you put a car up on a lift.

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He checked the engine and fluids and belts.

He even test drove it.

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We were pretty sure it would get his seal of approval until we pulled back into his garage …

And the dreaded check engine light came on.

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Hooking it up to his handy code reader…. it said error POO18.

Poo is rarely good, but no one wants to spend thousands of dollars on an engine full of it.

P0018 is the OBD-II generic code indicating that the camshaft position sensor A for bank 2 does not correlate to the signal from the crankshaft position sensor.

The bank 2 intake camshaft is out of position compared to the crankshaft position. The bank 2 camshaft phaser is stuck in one position or will not move.

So, poo!

Back to the dealership she went along with my hopes and dreams of ending the month and half long car search we’ve been on for a 19 year old’s first car.

In my day unscrupulous car dealers used to roll back the odometer. These days that’s too difficult, so they just switch off the check engine light instead.

Grrr.

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The rodent revolution can’t be far behind.

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I didn’t pray for this miracle, but I’ll take it.

Day two of the husband cleaning out the garage.

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Things were going well until he hit this corner…

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And found mouse nesting material covering whatever the hell was stored there.

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When he pulled off the filthy blanket?

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Yes. Those are corn cobs.

WTH?

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Sweeping off the pounds of nasty mess revealed this:

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Old, rusty and doesn’t work?

A keeper.

But the sweeping also revealed this:

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A tiny, squeaking baby mouse.

And when there’s a tiny, squeaking baby mouse?

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There’s a crazed mother mouse searching for it close behind.

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We spent the next half hour reuniting the little bastards, but the damage was done.

Their home had been destroyed…. like the chipmunks in the baby barn and the red squirrels in the house eaves.

Three rodent families displaced in the course of a summer.

I fear for our safety this winter.

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Woodchuck dining.

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The brothers are still with us.

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Getting so fat I can hardly tell them from their mother these days.

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Although how you get fat from eating lettuce I’m sure I don’t know.

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I never tire of watching these little scutters eat.

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And the fact the two remaining siblings still stick close together makes me smile.

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They don’t always get along….

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And have been known to tussle over a prime carrot slice now and then…..

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But you rarely see one without the other.

Am I jealous the brothers are able to go out to eat and be served tasty meals?

Well, maybe a little.