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Someone needs to invent the technology and WordPress needs to adopt it.
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Because our apple trees are in full bloom and the scent is beyond heavenly.
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I wish the pictures did them more justice.
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The white and pink blossoms really pop in person.
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And from the looks of the quantity, it’s going to be an autumn filled with pie.
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And cobbler, and torte, and crisp, and cake, and muffins…
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Well, you get the idea.
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Can someone please explain what frog logs taste like…
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And why anyone would want to find out?
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This completely cracked me up, because it’s true. I’ve waged war with that cursed masher for years.
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Charming… or ridiculous?
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I’m going with the latter.
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The Sunday senior pool games are still going strong. And this little old man is so sweet I’ve started baking goodies.
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Because nothing says hard core pool tournament better than fresh banana bread.
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On our way home from our scenic drive the other day we stopped for a cocktail ( or two ).
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Repeat after me… martinis are not made with rum. Nope. Uh uh. Never. Cherry Gin Ricky it is.
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Nice flavor, but a little too sweet so I asked the bartender to dial back the grenadine on #2. Bartenders are wonderful people, so helpful and attentive to our needs.
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Cocktails with my husband always requires food, so he ordered mussels while I opted for Truffle fries. Both were yummy but the real news? Even after I declined ketchup, 3 packets made their way to our table.
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Oh, the extravagance! After the waitress said she couldn’t take them back due to Covid rules… and when my husband remembered there was a shortage causing people to list them on eBay for $15 per… he scooped them up and brought them home. Where they’ll languish in the drawer until the next global pandemic lockdown.
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Perhaps you’d like to hug a water buffalo.
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It’s free, and you have to admit the toddlers sure are cute.
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Of course inviting you to hug a calf and then directing you to the store to purchase a rump roast of his family is a bit rude….
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I hope no one tells this sweet little fellow Uncle Otto didn’t really go to Boca on vacation.
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*Gulp*
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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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River's world..... 