But the ever dwindling woodchuck family is now down to three.
Momma chuck and two children.
The sextuplets are now twins.
And even more outnumbered by the starlings than ever.
But they’re growing quickly and packing on the pounds for winter.
So much so, it’s getting hard to distinguish them from their mother.
Until…
She stands up.
No doubt about it then.
Does anyone know where I can get a woodchuck girdle?
Asking for a friend.
We had our first little guy sighting of the season the other day.
And oh my goodness….
If that isn’t the definition of the word sweet I’ll eat a kale souffle.
The family kept a close huddle on the food.
But Junior managed to push his/her way into the fray.
I think I might have audibly squeaked in joy at that point.
Bambi!
We knew some of the does were pregnant, but they won’t bring the fawns up out of the woods for the first few months.
And even then it’s usually very early in the morning when yours truly is still in dreamland.
So it was wonderful to see them in the late late afternoon when the sun was still shining and providing light for pictures.
Welcome to the herd little one.
You’ll want to stick around, the crazy lady with the camera lays out a pretty nice buffet.
Sometimes it’s a wonderful thing.
Loyalty, fraternity….
Oh come on, you knew this would be about woodchucks not people.
But sometimes….
Siblings squabble.
And boy….
If looks could kill.
My SIL called a month or so ago and said she was redecorating a room in her house. Living in Texas makes her homesick, so she asked if I could make copies of some of my father’s Maine paintings and mail them to her.
My late father was the Vice President of a Wall Street brokerage firm who relaxed as a weekend artist. He loved nothing more than sharing his work…. so I happily agreed.
Sadly, my father died a year after he retired and only had a short period of time to paint when we moved from New Jersey to Maine. We were very close, but that particular year was hard for me. It was transitional…. and moving to a rural Island where the only way off was by boat was a huge culture shock for a 15 year old city girl. I was knee deep in silly teenage angst and didn’t spend nearly enough time with him.
Something I will always regret.
So when I started pulling paintings?
I was a wreck.
My father died 41 years ago….
But I cried like it was yesterday.
Grief.
Sometimes it never lets go…..
Well now you can.
We had a lot of visitors this past winter.
These are pictures from back in January because I’m still playing catch up from the vacation posts.
Our buck kept his rack a lot longer than usual.
But it didn’t stop him from apple picking.
Or sticking his tongue out at the photographer.
Cheeky little bugger.
Father and son…
Or daughter, it’s hard to tell at this stage.
Our last night with our special visitors ended at Jose Tequilas because…. well, you knew it had to.
Greeted at the door by this…..
And this….
I knew it was going to be a fun place.
The colors were bright and cheerful.
And the margarita list was a mile long.
Heaven, I tell you…. pure heaven!
I started with the Prickly Pear and Destiny had the Mango…. we both said large, and yes they were.
The Dia de los Meurtos theme was fabulous… and everywhere you looked.
After a few of those large (and quite potent) margaritas? I wouldn’t be surprised if someone asked those chicas to dance.
I tried to persuade our table to order grilled cactus, but there were no takers.
Though a second round of medium sized margaritas was approved for us girls.
Purple Gecko for me, Cool Cucumber for Destiny.
And yes, Martin… there was food.
Although Mexican food never looks as good as it tastes.
Chicken enchiladas, Spanish rice and re-fried beans….
Quesadillas….
And churros.
A good time was had by all.
There was a third round of margaritas…. the Tamerindo Guava and a Coco Loco respectively…. but yours truly forgot to photograph those.
And to be honest? By that time I was very glad the resort was only 2 minutes away.
Before I regale you with yet another day of our vacation adventures….. a little personal history.
In case you hadn’t guessed? The husband and I don’t have any children. It was a lifestyle choice we made many years ago and haven’t had cause to regret it. But back in the early 90’s we took a neighbor’s child under our wing when her single mother was having a hard time.
She was the child we never had….
We helped raise her…..
And since she had no contact with her real father, my husband took over the role.
Attitude adjustments et al.
She wasn’t ours biologically…..
But she will always be the child of our hearts.
We’ve watched her grow into a beautiful young woman…
And now she’s happily married…..
With a child of her own….
And we feel like we have a grandchild as well. They still live in North Carolina so whenever we’re near…. we get together. She loves that we have a timeshare and enjoys staying with us at the various resorts. On Day 8 of this trip? She and her daughter joined us for the weekend before Christmas.
When they arrived? A goose traffic jam…
I love me some goosers… so pardon the ridiculous tone of voice I use in the video.
As well as me cursing out the idiot who was honking their horn at those sweet little waddlers.
After their 4 1/2 hour trip, Destiny and Gracie were hungry so we took them to that great seafood place we’d found… Fat Tuna.
We stuffed ourselves silly with hushpuppies, cornbread and shrimp and grits….
While the husband opted for a seafood pasta.
This was in anticipation of where we would be spending the afternoon and evening… because when you have a 7 year old? Sitting around chatting with a cocktail isn’t going to cut it.
So the husband and I did what we never… ever!… do.
We went to a theme park.
And it was just as awful as I knew it would be.
We stood in a long line to board the shuttle.
We crammed onto the shuttle like sardines.
We waited on long lines to buy overpriced tickets…. and not even a funny spare tire cover could make up for what we were about to experience.
(I hope he was talking about the jeep and not his wife.
I really do.)
But yes…. the husband and I shelled out $240 frickin’ dollars to visit Christmas Town at Busch Gardens.
No senior discount, no military discount, no under 12 discount.
Suck it Santa!
Did I mention it was also $20 to leave our car in the north 40, somewhere south of bumblef*ck Egypt parking lot?
$260 just to walk in.
Kill me now.
But we were there with people we loved…
And my husband… who never wants to pose for photographs?
Was posing all over the place…. and smiling.
Now that’s a true Christmas miracle!
With apologies to Kevin Costner….
I’m talking about the deer.
When snow covers the ground and grass is hard to find?
Shoveling a path is a sure way to attract a crowd.
Or a herd, as the case may be.
We were really glad to see our resident 12 point buck survived hunting season.
And visits daily with his harem.
Of course he also chases them away when the treats run low.
Cheeky bugger.
Here’s a little clip in between snow storms.
Okay, technically he’s my 8th great grandfather.
Though I can’t say I see the resemblance.
I’ve been shaking the family tree again and found Sir Adrian Scrope…. born in 1601, matriculated at Harts Hall, Oxford. A military man, he obtained the rank of colonel before it all went bad.
Very, very bad.
Scrope was one of the regicides who surrendered at the Restoration of Charles II. The House of Commons voted to pardon him under the Act of Indemnity, but the House of Lords demanded that all the regicides should be brought to trial. Scrope was condemned to death when Major-General Richard Browne testified that Scrope had justified Charles I’s execution to him even after Charles II’s return. He was hanged, drawn and quartered at Charing Cross on 17 October 1660.
An account of his behaviour in prison and at the gallows describes him as “a comely ancient gentleman”, and dwells on his cheerfulness and courage.
Cheerful at the gallows?
Well, good for him.
I can’t say his 8th great granddaughter would have been quite so chipper.
This probably doesn’t surprise most of you..
But perhaps I should explain.
A few years ago my girlfriend infected me with the genealogy bug, and let me tell you…. once you catch it? There is no cure.
Before I knew it I was wandering dusty old libraries and searching moth eaten town halls.
Yes, I’ve even stalked a few cemetery custodians.
They’re a font of valuable information.
It’s fair to say I was obsessed for a while and spent hours, days, weeks, months way too much time climbing the old family tree.
Some lines are frustrating and dead end right away.
Other lines like my paternal grandmother’s, I traced back to the year 1134. It helps when you have someone famous… most of the work has been done for you.
One of my semi famous relatives?
The Hon. Jabez B. Snowball.
Yes, dear old 2nd great Uncle Jabez.
Lumber baron and Lt. Governor of New Brunswick, Canada.
I actually found this among my father’s papers…
Although I have no earthly idea who wrote it.
Genealogy is fun.
And fascinating.
And rewarding.
As well as incredibly frustrating.
It’s also surprising.
Like when I started on my mother’s side of Austrian relatives…
And found Franz.
Damn. That’s disturbing…
Good thing he was only the father in law of my 1rst cousin twice removed.
Genealogy.
Ya never know who will fall out when you shake the family tree.
River's world..... 