I often wonder how Lord Dudley Mountcatten manages to looks pudgy when the silly cat actually eats very little. Maybe half a Fancy Feast tin in the morning and another half at night… on a good day. Sometimes he just turns his nose up and walks away.
He won’t eat fish, or treats, or any human food. He won’t eat anything sliced, diced or shredded. The husband laughs at my attempts to stimulate his Royal highness’s appetite… and it’s not uncommon to see me following the little bugger around the house at mealtime with a bowl of food and a spoon. ( the cat, not the husband )
So when Lord Dudley recently expressed an interest in being fed on the laundry room windowsill?
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His loyal minion obeyed and fed him on the laundry room windowsill.
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Dinner with a view, you can’t blame him. And I’d already covered the dryer with a soft towel for his comfort… so why not?
Personally, I do not pea… but the husband is a huge fan so when hams are on sale for Christmas and I’m left with a bone, there’s only one thing he wants.
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Split pea soup. Which happens to be the easiest soup to make… so it’s hard to refuse even though I can’t stand the smell or taste.
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5 hours later ? A pot full of slop with the consistency of sludge as far as I’m concerned.
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But the husband is in leftover pea heaven, and hey… I have to throw him a bone now and then.
Don’t worry, I’m sure there will be other opportunities in the future. And if they auction off his old toothbrush you could always harvest a little DNA, grow a clone and start a billion dollar company in your own garage.
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#1?
The peanut butter cookie… to which I have but one word.
Blech!
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Foot Botox. Why can’t rich people just take a piece of sandpaper to their heels like the rest of us.
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I most definitely do not.
Nope. Not in the least.
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That’s a hat?
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I know there’s a lot of down time while on stakeout or speed trap duty…. but that seems a bit extreme.
We will start and end this post with photos of His Lordship.
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Seen here giving me the evil eye for lowering the blinds and blocking his morning sun.
I had a birthday recently… yay me, another trip around the sun and straight down the road to decrepitude.
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The husband told me to pick a place for dinner but I’d skipped lunch and decided we should go cocktail hopping early.
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Enter Royal River Grille, one of my favorite spots.
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We settled happily at the bar… but were presented with brunch menus since it was a Sunday. I’m not a breakfast person so the thought of scrambled eggs with my Cosmo at 4:00pm did not please me, not one little bit. Brunch until 5:00pm? Come on.
We decided to move on and got the check.
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With tip, $30.92 for a drink and a beer. What’s the world coming to?
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Next stop was Goodfire Brewery, a new place I’d been wanting to try. On arrival we discovered they were almost out of beer and only had three left on tap. Thankfully one was a blackberry currant sour, but at $9.50 per for the small pour and a virtually non existent menu, we paid $24 for two beers and moved on again.
We ended at a nice seafood place we hadn’t visited in a while and I had a lovely crab, shrimp and scallop lasagna which I didn’t photograph.
So we end with me another year older and a very innocent Lord Dudley Mountcatten.
A pink flamingo Christmas tree for Mark. The ultimate in flocking.
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This sounds entirely too easy. Has anyone ever tried it?
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Another Spam abomination for my taste bud addled blog friend.
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Porktastic? I beg to differ.
Meanwhile back at the ranch..
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The good news? Lord Dudley Mountcatten has not knocked down the tree.
The bad news? My husband broke the we don’t need any more stuff so let’s not exchange gifts paradigm we’ve been clinging to for the past 6 years and put something big under the tree. Since my beloved has two gift giving modes… expensive jewelry I rarely like and wish he wouldn’t buy or appliances I neither want nor need… I’m going to guess the latter.
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I’ve been married 38 years and no matter how many times I tell my husband appliances are not a welcome Christmas gift, to date I’ve received an upright freezer, a toaster, a washer and dryer, a blender, a convection oven and oh yes, let’s not forget that ever so thoughtful dehumidifier.
I have yet to receive a vacuum, but there’s always next year.
Housed in an old inn, the restaurant/bar was warm and inviting.
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Most of the dining sections were full so we grabbed a high top near the empty bar.
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Seeing the empty bar made me wonder about the quality of libations….
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But a stellar blood orange cranberry gin fizz allayed my fears.
Of course this was Vermont, so some of the menu items put me off.
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A skillet full of kale? There wasn’t enough gin in the state to make me order that.
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Ditto the falafel, though the maple chicken didn’t sound bad.
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But the clam chowder was homemade, rich, creamy and full of fresh herbs so I started with that.. accompanied by the most amazing peach cornbread with orange whipped butter you’ve ever tasted. Ooh la la! I raved over them so much the waitress brought me extra of both to take home.
The beer? I thought you might notice that.
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I tried both of these.
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Because a girl gets thirsty when she eats salad.
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We enjoyed this place so much we stayed long enough to order dessert. (Mainly because the husband found a fellow veteran to talk to… and you know how long that can take.)
Pumpkin cheesecake for him, Key lime pie for yours truly.
If you’re ever in the Jericho area of Vermont drop in. You won’t be sorry.