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We have a raccoon who visits nightly. And while he’s a cute, pudgy old fellow… he’s extremely destructive when it comes to our birds feeders. Every morning we wake up to one or two on the ground, often in pieces. A month ago I started taking them down at dusk and putting them in the garage overnight. When I went to bed early last week and forgot? The husband got lazy and left them on the kitchen porch.
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Not a good idea.
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Not at all good.
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The time of year Mainers go absolutely bat shit crazy over a tiny unfurled fern frond.
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The season is short and anxiously awaited. Foraging sites are secret and passed down from one generation to another.
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Cleaning methods are also hotly debated.
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Personally? I can’t stand the slimy little things… I don’t care how you cook them, they taste like swamp. But that’s okay, it just means there are more for you.
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There’s a new product shortage right around the corner.
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Yes, it’s true.
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So if you’re hard up for cash? Start digging through your car’s glove compartment for the ketchup you threw in there during your road trip to see the world’s largest ball of twine back in ‘04. That stuff is gold!
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Because the price gouging has begun.
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In reality I guess it makes a perverse type of sense.
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20 packets for $50 doesn’t seem like a bargain to me.
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But in a few months, maybe it will be.
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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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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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Never let it be said our little Lord doesn’t know how to relax.
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After two and a half months with us, he seems to be quite comfortable.
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Not one to exert himself unnecessarily, he’s also been known to eat his meals lying down.
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Very Nero-esque.
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And when the little Roman is through?
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It’s time for a nap.
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After the husband decided on leather chairs for his man cave, the focus switched to a table to put in front of them. Having just spent two exhausting days in and out of a disturbingly high number of furniture stores, I was less than enthusiastic. And when I saw what kind of tables he was considering?
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(Tables should not have wheels!) I was even less enthusiastic.
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Thinking he’d taken leave of his senses, I cried Uncle and headed for the ladies room before our two and a half hour long drive home.
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And if there was ever a stranger place to decorate with rabbits? I don’t know where it would be. No one needs a fluffle of Thumpers looking over their shoulder in a bathroom stall. Talk about performance anxiety… geesh. ( And yes, a group of rabbits really is called a fluffle. Which, when you think about it… is totally spot on. )
On the way home we stopped at a restaurant we’ve always enjoyed but haven’t frequented since early 2020.
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Is the beer really better there? I don’t know, but they have an extensive list to be sure. They also pour some interesting martinis …..
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So naturally I indulged in two Prickly Pears. The drinks were fabulous…
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But tiny.. more like wide lipped shot glasses. And for $24? I’d like to take more than 4 sips.
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While the food looked wonderful, shrimp stir fry for me… Parmesan baked haddock for the husband… both were dry as a bone, overcooked and cool when they reached the table. French onion soup forgotten and delivered with the meal? That’s a big no no. By the time the husband started his fish, it was stone cold. A disappointing visit to a place we used to love.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has been a finicky eater. When it comes to canned food he won’t eat fish. He won’t eat anything grilled or in pieces. No meaty morsels, no shreds. Nothing with cheesy bites or creamy sauce. The little bugger won’t even eat tuna FFS. It took me a solid month of trying every brand under the sun… from cheap to ridiculously expensive…. to find one kind he liked.
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It’s the only brand and variety he’ll eat every single time. So you know what that means….. it’s now virtually impossible to find. In person or online, and believe me I’ve tried. Oh, I could buy it on eBay.
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Yes, you read that correctly. Apparently it’s still being made but there’s a disruption in the supply chain which is making it scarce…. so the price gougers are in full swing. Amazon?
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A little better, but still outrageous. Sorry Dudley… you may have to learn to like bologna.
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Now, now… don’t get excited. I live in Maine, I’m talking lobster.
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There was a state wide contest and even our local pub co owner joined in.
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Ooh… a blue!
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If you’ve never done it, or even thought about it? Trust me, lobstering is hard work.
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You battle the weather, the equipment and the ocean. Fisherman die or are lost at sea every year. I’ve personally known two.
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And yes..
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Lobsters really are this small in the beginning.
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Cuddly? Not so much.
But damn, they sure are tasty.
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A woman from my town posted this the other day after visiting our neighbor’s farm stand across the street.
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And I had to laugh.
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Because it was totally something I would do.
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Hell, we brought an anatomically correct eggplant to our local pub last year.
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Needless to say it was a big hit.
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And oddly enough, is still talked about fondly.
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I found these tasty treats in the grocery store bakery section.
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And seeing that they were alcohol laden, you know I had to try them.
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The Captain rarely disappoints, and even in cake form he was quite yummy. Moist and spicy, it had a pleasing apple pie autumn in New England vibe.
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This wasn’t my favorite of the three, but it still had a nice pound cake richness.
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But if you love beer, this is the cake for you. The simple act of opening the wrapper released an instant heady aroma of hoppy goodness. Deep, dark and chocolatey like a good stout should be…. this dessert was a winner.
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River's world..... 