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I’m not sure why…
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But momma woodchuck always looks pissed off.
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Is it because her children are always under foot?
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Or because the pesky human woman keeps spraying all the tasty munchies with coyote urine?
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Maybe it’s because her tatas are hanging so low they scrape the rock wall.
Tough call… but I’m going with gravity. That’s bound to make any woman cranky.
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No, I haven’t run out of these yet.
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Hmm… Black Haddock has possibilities.
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And it’s better than yesterday’s… Blue HoHo.
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That’s easy….
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I know it’s a staple of childhood sandwiches and a good source of protein as an adult, but I completely despise the stuff. The mere smell of it makes me nauseated. I don’t care if you cover it in chocolate… I’m not eating it.
Nope.
Uh uh.
Never.
And if my husband comes at me with that nasty nut breath? I’m not kissing him either.
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Our backyard has been seeing a lot of visitors lately.
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And baby chucks are learning where the buffet is located.
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Yes, damn it.
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She’s still here.
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I don’t think momma Chuck is enjoying the competition for apple slices.
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But babies like the grain as well. And climbing in the food bowl is always fun.
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It was a lovely drive along the coast…
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And though I would have loved to stop and snap some photos, the husband was hungry… so you’ll have to make do with a few quick shots from the car.
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Here’s the famous Cribstone Bridge.
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And as you’ve probably guessed, lobster reigns supreme.
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This was our destination, Cooks Lobster and Ale House.
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A local landmark built in 1955 on a long spit of land with panoramic water views. Popular with locals and tourists alike (although we locals don’t appreciate the tourist prices) it’s a no fuss, traditionally rustic waterfront restaurant.
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But what it lacks in decor? It makes up in scenic vistas. The view from our table was pretty sweet.
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The cocktails are potent.
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And two Cosmopolitans were all I could handle if I wanted to remain upright.
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Pardon the fuzzy pic, it was taken through a screen.
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The food is simple but delicious. Caesar salad (with the most amazing homemade herb butter croutons evah!) for me, a tasty French onion soup for my other half.
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Perfectly cooked lightly battered fried sea scallops for me….
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And lazy lobster for my rat bastard husband who ate it in front of me without feeling the least bit guilty. (I came up allergic 7 years ago and can no longer consume the delicious crustaceans without becoming seriously ill. 😩)
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Dessert? Of course it was blueberry pie. And as we waddled out to the car… we stopped for a moment to take in the beauty.
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And realized the husband might have backed up a bit too far upon arrival.
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Maine rocks. They’re unforgiving little devils.
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I can honestly say I will never need a Russian pickle puff.
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But I suppose it’s good to know they exist all the same.
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Shark slippers? I’m sure they’re great for scaring the crap out of sand crabs, but no.
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Do I need to drink my cocktails out of a bird’s ass?
I most assuredly do not.
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And if I don’t need a bird ass cocktail delivery system? I certainly don’t need an egg laying one. Trust me, this will not relieve my stress.
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It had been a while since we visited our farming neighbors across the road, so the other day we took a walk.
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Unfortunately they weren’t home, but we took the time to check out what was happening on their farm. There’s something about strolling through verdant fields of crops that just makes me smile.
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Every time we visit there’s something new.
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This time it was a veritable village of greenhouses.
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These seemingly sprung up overnight, with full irrigation… which must have been quite a feat.
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A house addition was under way as well.
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Why was there a skeleton prominently displayed on the barn wall? It’s probably better if we don’t ask.
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Ugh. I suppose a row of kale was inevitable.
🤢
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There’s our Barn Mahal/man cave in the background.
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We never realize how much it dominates the landscape until we see it from far away. Oops.
☺️
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On our way out we had to stop by the farm stand they opened when Covid shut down most of their markets.
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And naturally we came home with a few things.
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Lettuce, spinach, potatoes and blueberry yogurt. You can’t get much fresher than that.
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Stopping at the new pub everyone is raving about…
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Not having to make reservations, worry about masking or social distancing.
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Cruising the cocktail list…
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And enjoying a few boozy blueberry lemonades.
The food?
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Fabulous! A hand tossed wood fired chicken Florentine pizza for me, grilled sea scallop salad with candied pecans and strawberry vinaigrette for the husband.
Life. It finally seems to be getting back to normal.
😊
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It’s been a while since Facebook’s targeted Ball Wash ads flooded my feed. And silly me, I thought I was over the proverbial hump. Then I saw this…
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Ball Hammocks are not a step up…. and I seriously doubt dads need them. I mean really, look at that man. You can tell he would much rather have gotten a tie.
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Damn. Now I’m going to have to give up pizza forever.
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Bambi Bunchers? Please, no.
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Sweet Jesus. I really don’t care if your nuts are happy… and is it me? Or do those nuts look more like garlic anyway.
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There are a lot of wonderful places in the world to make love. Under a chocolate chip cookie is not one of them.
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I suppose cozy tube steak was inevitable.
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Noooo!
Not the red squirrel…..
😱
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After reading an article about a fine arts student in Montreal who made clothing out of food?
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I realized the contents of my refrigerator have to step up their game.
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Damn it cabbage, get up off your ass.
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And to think I’ve been wasting my broccoli in casseroles.
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A potato chip shirt? Sure it’s all innocent fun… until someone opens the dip.
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I don’t know about you, but an orange isn’t going to cut it for me. My girls would need cantaloupes.
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This is the interior of our local pub.
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Small, rustic and not at all fancy. But the food is fresh and tasty, the drinks are strong and cheap. What more could you want?
We’re regulars and feel good supporting a local business. Our town has never had a pub before so the owners had to fight long and hard for licensing as well as acceptance. Some of the older residents of our little hamlet thought a bar would attract a bad element, but this small establishment is just as likely to be serving lunch to a troop of Girl Scouts as they are the functioning alcoholics. Lawyers and fisherman. Bankers and construction workers. Hippies and veterans. You never who will sit on the neighboring stool.
We’ve met more locals here in the past 2 years than we have living in this town for 19. And it should come as no surprise that when we introduce ourselves and explain where we live? Everyone always says… oh, the big red barn with the nice porch. Sure!
And if you’re wondering just how rural my town can be? Take a look at who pulled up the other day…
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🤣
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River's world..... 