.
Because it’s Friday.
.
.
I’m not a kitchen gadget person.
I don’t have a Panini press, an espresso machine or a waffle maker.
So 6 for me, which should really be 7…. because our air fryer is in our toaster/convection oven and I’ve never once used it.
How many appliances do you not own?
.
.
It will be quick today, I promise.
.
.
One point for every place you’ve visited.
My number is 14, which at a little less than half isn’t bad.
How well traveled are you?
.
.
This week’s question is in honor of a certain Spam obsessed blogger who shall remain nameless.
Oh, who am I kidding?
It’s Mark, he’s crazy for the stuff.
.
.
As far as I’m concerned Spam is a four letter word. A more disgusting gelatinous meat wanna be you’re not apt to find.
.
.
Blech.
🤢
.
.
Fresh off the assembly line in 1937.
I’ve heard rumors they’ll be making a second batch any day now.
.
.
Health food it’s not.
.
.
My late MIL was the queen of spam. Spam loaf, spam spaghetti, spam and beans… hell, she even made spam pie.
I’ve never been able to stomach the canned abomination and don’t understand why anyone would voluntarily consume it.
So my question is… yay or nay?
Where do you stand on Spam.
.
.
You won’t get paid, but my undying gratitude should be reward enough.
.
.
This is an easy one for me….
Nurse/doctor.
I’m not good with open wounds, serious illnesses, and bodily fluids. Sure, I’ll pamper you through a cold and bring you an ice pack for that sprained ankle but when the husband had a gaping hole in his stomach from a post op gall bladder removal infection that needed to be swabbed out with antiseptic every day for a week? We had to drive to the clinic each morning because the first time I tried to do it I almost vomited into the incision… and that’s the opposite of disinfecting.
🤢
How about you?
Which profession should you avoid at all costs…
.
.
Because we don’t play enough these days.
.
.
My husband and I are very different people who have different likes and styles. We were raised differently, in different types of families with different backgrounds in different eras. And while most of our differences compliment each other and enhance our strength as a couple… there are times when the differences can rub up against my last nerve.
( I’m sure he can say the same, but hey… this is my blog. 😉 )
I was born an only child of older parents. They were quiet, well educated people who rarely watched television. Our home was peaceful. My husband had 8 siblings, an alcoholic father and a volatile upbringing. It was anything but peaceful.
I’m a reader. I like quiet.
My husband is a tv watcher. He likes noise.
So much so, that he turns the damn thing on and leaves the room with it blaring away. And mind you, he doesn’t just leave the room… at times he leaves the house and our property altogether. The man will turn on the tv, and then go get gas, or go out to breakfast… with the tv still on.
It’s a little thing in the grand scheme of life… but it drives me nuts.
Turn. Off. The. Television!
How about you?
What does your significant other do that drives you crazy….
.
.
Just in case you’re bored and have nothing better to do.
.
.
We have a closet next to our hutch.
.
.
And like the junk drawer in our kitchen, it’s my guilty secret. When I don’t know what to do something, or other proper storage areas are full?
I cram it in the closet of shame.
.
.
There are tools and Tupperware.
Batteries and basting sauce.
Flashlights and flour.
Mayonnaise and markers.
A crockpot and crazy glue.
There’s no rhyme or reason…wood stain is next to beef broth and egg noodles rest on a tube of epoxy.
Once a year I organize and rearrange, but it doesn’t last long. Chaos wins every time.
And if the shelves are nuts, the tiny floor isn’t much better.
.
.
It’s crammed with 50 lb bags of bird seed, fox food, deer grain and now duck pellets. Which, by the way… the ducks don’t like and won’t eat.
My name is River, and this is my closet of shame.
How about you?
What brings shame to your household….
.
.
Because it might make you smile.
.
.
I’ll start…
Grab your hat pussycat.
Wish me luck Momma Chuck.
Hit the ground basset hound.
Take the bus rhinoceros.
Bake a cake rattlesnake.
😊
Now you…
.
.
It’s as easy as answering a question.
.
.
Thinking about my answer to this question, I realize I’ve lead a charmed life.
My childhood was innocent and idyllic with two loving and supportive parents.
My adolescence was a little wild, but I always knew right from wrong and when too much was too much.
My married life started at age 20 and continues 40 years later, well loved and well cared for.
I have never been to war, been assaulted or been in a bad car accident. I have never had serious physical health issues and my mental state is stable. (Though some might disagree)
Mortal danger?
The closest I can come is being stuck in river mud up to my chest when I was 10 years old. I crossed what I thought was a dry creek bed when my mother wasn’t looking and got seriously stuck. Every time I tried to move I sunk further down and my mother… ever useless in a crisis… just screamed hysterically from the bank. Thankfully some local college guys came to my rescue with picnic blankets tied together like rope. I remember being freaked out, not to mention filthy… but mortal danger might be stretching it.
Of course my husband drives like a raped ape and some say I take my life in my hands every time I get in his car… so there is that.
How about you?
How close have you come to mortal danger.
.
.
You’re here.
It’s required.
.
.
We used to have a big, beautiful, fat and fluffy white cat.
.
.
He was a long haired Japanese bob tail Manx that I let the neighborhood children name when we lived in North Carolina.
They were sweet kids, if not terribly original… hence the name Mr. White.
.
.
Mr, White made the move back to Maine with us and lived a very long (24 years!) and happy life. He’s buried under a tree on our property and thanks to my mother…who loved to brush him and keep his coat silky smooth… parts of him are still with us.
.
.
Yes, I know it’s bizarre… but the coffee table drawer in our living room that holds Lord Dudley Mountcatten’s leash and toys also contains balls of Mr White’s fur rolled into balls by my mother.
It was a running joke that he shed so much fur she could make a pillow with it one day. Or a blanket. Or a hat.
.
.
Clearly she was on to something.
I know I should toss those old fur balls. It’s not like I’m going to knit cat hair socks or a scarf, but for some reason I just can’t bring myself to do it. Weird as it is, they make me smile.
How about you…
What weird thing can’t you bring yourself to throw out?
.
.
Because it beats working, that’s why.
.
.
I recently read this book.
.
.
It was a little too Jurassic Park adjacent for me, but the scientific basis for the novel is valid and quite terrifying.
The Colossal Biosciences https://colossal.com/ company really is five years away from de-extincting a wooly mammoth and the ethical can of worms that opens will be epic. When that process is nailed down? It would theoretically be possible to resurrect Neanderthals as well. A race of hominid that was taller and stronger than us, with a larger brain, better hearing, better sight, an inability to feel empathy and a propensity for violence. Forget the AI robots destroying us, the Neanderthals will do it for then.
On that cheerful note, my last Google search was for the Indricotherium.
.
.
A giant hornless rhino that lived in the Eocene Epoch, 56 to 33 million years ago.
.
.
He weighed 15 to 20 tons and stood 24 foot tall.
Yes, once a dinosaur geek, always a dinosaur geek.
So what’s the last thing you were searching for?
.
River's world..... 