Success was hard won, but after another full of month of fruitless used car shopping, we finally found one for our niece.
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A 2012 Subaru Impreza hatchback which cost a lot more money than I planned on spending for a 19 year old’s first car…. but welcome to pandemic era shopping.
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The economy is iffy and people aren’t buying new, which means they aren’t trading old, which means a complete lack of decent inventory on the lots. The pickings are extremely slim in Maine and unless you’re willing to spend $11,000 plus (I wasn’t) or buy something with 225,000 miles (also a no) good frickin’ luck.
Thankfully the dealership where she fell in love with this one allowed us to drive it an hour away to have our trusty mechanics/old friends give it a thorough once over.
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They found a few minor things it needed, while this fellow looked on…
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Hey, our friends run a high class garage…. and can apparently fix anything. Including the tin man.
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Okay, as evidenced by their Hooter calendar…. maybe not that high class.
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But they’re experienced and kind enough to examine the car for free, so I’ll excuse a few scantily clad bimbos.
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The car won their seal of approval… after telling us it needed new tires… and our niece let out an audible sigh of relief.
Time to celebrate.
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At the closest restaurant to the dealership while they got the paperwork together.
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Cheers to a young girl’s first car!
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And a hearty home style lunch. Corn and bacon chowder with a hot turkey sandwich for me. That damn thing was so big I ate off it for 3 days.
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Signing her own paperwork. With a man who needs serious instruction on mask protocol.
Big smiles and key in hand.
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A final hug for the best aunt and uncle on earth.
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A thumbs up behind the wheel…. and off she went back to college.
Flipping through O magazine the other day (I get it free, don’t judge) I realized Oprah and I disagree about a few things.
Most importantly, her list of must have items.
She might find these necessary and affordable, but I don’t.
Seriously? Bragging about your house manager Eddie and his cocktail mixing prowess is bad form. Especially when we peons are occasionally forced to drink cocktails from can.
Let’s forget the revolting sounding ‘flavor capsule’…. why in the world would I pay $350 to have a machine mix my drink.
My local pub’s bartender does a fine job and he never expects that big a tip.
$70 for a bottle.
To put alcohol and fruit in.
Call me classy, but a mason jar works just as well for a lot less.
Good grief.
$195 so my selfies can be better lighted?
I’m 55 and menopausal. No one wants to see that any more clearly than they already have.
Oprah redeemed herself slightly with this last pick.
It’s been a while since I shopped at Talbots, but I could probably rock a pair of these.
While adults are complaining about being shuttered at home with spouses….
And wondering if their favorite bar stool at the local pub is lonely with out them…
(okay, that might just be me)
The little people are suffering too.
No school, no play dates, no adventures.
The grand daughter of our heart is getting a kick out of receiving snail mail so along with cards to let her know we’re thinking of her….. I send a small gift now and then as well.
First was a cute little upside down teddy bear drinking glass.
This was the very first picture of us ever taken ….
Back in 1984, on that awful chair at his mother’s house…… right before we got married. I may look twelve, but no worries. I’d just turned 20. (As for the husband’s hair… I have no idea what was going on there.)
We knew each other for 6 days.
Yes, you read that correctly…. 6 days. And to be honest, 3 of those were the required waiting period for the marriage license.
People thought we were crazy. (We knew we weren’t.)
People said it would never last. (It’s been 36 years.)
The Grateful Dead had it right…..
What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been!
But I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.
Anyway…. this year on our anniversary?
A seriously beautiful bouquet from my other half….
That got better every day as all the blooms opened up.
The rose colors were gorgeous.
Then it was off to our favorite restaurant in Boothbay Harbor…. before their doors were shut due to the virus. The decor is nothing to write home about, and the menu is smaller in winter….. but the food is still fabulous.
If you’ve never payed attention to any of my advice before?
Start now… and buy a bottle.
It doesn’t matter if you’re not a fig fan. I actually hate the things.
But this was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. A very unique flavor. I read they also make a Golden Apricot ….. and I’ll be looking for that as well.
Can’t remember what they called my appetizer but it was delicious, with just the right amount of spice.
Husband went with his usual French Onion soup and a light main dish of broiled haddock and asparagus.
I, on the other hand….
Dove into the richest, creamiest most delightful Parmesan risotto you’ll find this side of Italy. It’s one of their specialties and I can never resist…. paired here with pan seared scallops, mushrooms, arugula and a citrus balsamic glaze.
Now that the Virginia vacation saga is finally over, it’s time to clear out the photo files.
If you remember… before we left for the Cape Cod vacation in November, the husband was desperately trying to finish the remodel on our baby barn from Hell before the snow started flying.
He started putting the siding on….
Which was a nightmare of non squared corners and uneven ground.
Yeah, there was a lot of that.
His answer? Plant a shrub in front of it.
He was still using his 1950’s power tools and probably wishing for a larger wheelbarrow.
Siding around the window resulted in some very colorful language.
As did turning the 3rd corner where things didn’t exactly line up.
Unfortunately that’s as far as he got before the weather turned….
And now I have to stare at this split personality horror show until spring.
In other news, our neighbor and her daughter fed our deer while we were gone.
She sent me this picture while we were in Williamsburg, and wanted me to know the child took her responsibility seriously.
And for that she was rewarded.
Flowers for mom and a thank you deer for her daughter.
That little guy cost me a fortune but he was hand made and too damned cute to resist. Look at those feet!
It snowed right after we got back.
But the white stuff sure does make a nice contrast for the sunrise.
We were happy to see our resident buck was still around.
He’s an impressive fellow….
And clearly his women agree.
He’s got quite a little harem going.
With 4 fawns that we know of.
Funny thing is….. as much as I love to travel, it’s sights like these that always make me glad to be home again.
So we got up bright and early to make the almost 5 hour drive down to North Carolina.
Required Christmas selfie.
And as we were walking down the sidewalk of our resort it struck me…..
I might not be the only one who cursed my husband’s choice of the behemoth rental car.
It was an uneventful trip.
But we saw lots of cotton.
Really, a whole lot of cotton.
And absolutely nothing else. Nothing for miles and miles… except cotton… and I was starting to sweat the steadily dropping level of gasoline.
Behemoths be thirsty.
I also took issue with Apple maps when the GPS put us in the middle of a National Forest and told us to turn around.
WTF?
When the rental beast was pretty much running on fumes, we finally found a service station to fill it…. and us, since we skipped breakfast. The only choice was Subway, where I ordered a rotisserie chicken wrap and managed to leak half of the sauce on my blouse resulting in a large greasy stain.
My first words upon arrival in N.C. weren’t “Merry Christmas!” but….. “Let me raid your closet.”
My second words were “What you would like to drink?” as I unpacked my carton of holiday cheer.
Destiny chose a bottle to match her sweater, because coordination is everything.
We gave them our gifts…. and Gracie liked the books.
Though I think she liked the pig a little bit more.
We spent time with our daughter of the heart’s step children, John being home on leave from the Army.
As you can see they aren’t young enough to be hers…. because like me, she married an older man. Which her mother thinks I’m responsible for and never lets me forget, but hey.
It worked for me.
An old Marine Corps buddy of the husband’s came with us…. and it was a laid back country Christmas with lots of love and laughter.
A few highlights:
My bartending skills were highly rated.
And strange toys were questioned.
Does a llama really need to shake her booty?
But more importantly, why was this horror voted toy of the year in Australia?
The driving tour of the Yorktown, Virginia battlefield was a strange one and meandered all over the place.
Through the woods.
And past open fields with miles of split rail fencing.
Seriously, it went on forever.
There were creeks and swamps.
And every now and then, a sign.
We saw plenty of fluffy white butts.
And they roamed at will.
We even made friends with a few.
This little beauty had no fear and sidled right up next to my window.
Up our way that would be dangerous.
But this was protected land and they knew it.
Near the end of the tour we saw something a bit odd.
A buck with a funky horn.
And while I can’t say I’ve ever had to tote a rack around (on my head anyway) this did look a little strange.
So this was December 23rd and the husband had spent the last 48 hours trying to talk me into driving down to North Carolina for Christmas Day. When we’re on a trip for the holidays? We usually let it pass without much fanfare. No exchange of gifts, maybe just a special meal. But since our daughter of the heart came to visit with us those few days… he was bound and determined we would celebrate with her this time.
While I normally would have agreed, she had a slew of family members staying the night in a one bathroom house and I didn’t want to stress her anymore than necessary. We checked a few hotels in the area but all of them were full. Husband wanted to go for the day…. but it was a 4+ hour ride down and a 4+ hour ride back. Almost 9 hours on the road is not my idea of a fun Christmas… but he wore me down. Which meant we had to spend the rest of that day (and night) shopping for gifts because I wouldn’t go empty handed.
And leave it to me to decide on the one gift that was utterly unfindable on the 23rd of December. And believe me we tried.
Because she loves wine…. but can no longer drink it because it gives her headaches.
I was going to give her the gift of wine back! Or die trying.
Which we nearly did.
We tried every single freakin’ store for 150 miles. Large malls and small gift shops. Specialty stores and wine outlets. Big chains and obscure holes in the hall. We walked, we searched, we cursed. (Okay, maybe that was just me.) We shopped until we almost dropped. Everyone had heard of it… very few carried it. And if they did carry it? They were sold out by the time we got there.
Do you know how aggravating it is to look for something for 7 hours straight and then be told by a laughing salesclerk, “Oh, we just sold the last one 10 minutes ago. You should have been quicker.” That woman is lucky she still has her tongue…. because if I could have reached the butcher knife on the other side of the counter? She’d be laughing with a bloody stump right now.
And if that isn’t bad enough?
I didn’t find the perfect gift, but I did find this:
No.
No…
Noooo!
This is wrong on so many levels … I can’t even. What twisted soul thought, “How can I take a perfectly good candy and ruin it beyond all measure? I know… I’ll add Kale!”
All over the world children are weeping. I hope you’re satisfied Archie.
At 9:30 that night the husband was screaming Uncle…. and grumbling about food. We were both too exhausted to care at that point and stopped at the first place on the way back to the resort. An Outback Steakhouse.
I’m not a lover of chain restaurants and hadn’t been to one of these in 20 years.
But $5 Boozy Cherry Limeades sounded pretty good….
And for that price? I had 3.
Their Blue Cheese Wedge salad left a lot to be desired…. and the husband’s French Onion soup was only fair.
But his filet was blood rare and he made short work of it.
My grilled filet and shrimp skewer combo was filling…. and I’ll leave it at that.
There’s a reason we’re not chain restaurant fans, and if we don’t go back for another 20 years?
As most of you know, my husband is a Marine. (And as I learned many moons ago, once a Marine always a Marine…. hence the is, even though he retired from the Corps years ago)
Being a Marine means being inundated with Marine Corps stuff. Newsletters, fliers, reunion notices, junk mail and catalogs… like this:
Sgt. Grit appears in our mailbox on a regular basis because I made the mistake of ordering something for the husband from them online. I usually chuck it, but was bored the other day and started flipping through it.
OOHRAH!!
The beloved Marine Corps grunt that I’ve never managed to perform to my husband’s satisfaction. This may have something to do with the fact that I sound more like Al Pacino in Scent of a Woman than Chesty Puller…..
River's world..... 