Tag Archives: humor

Products for a pandemic lockdown.

.

The first one supposedly has merit in the fact that you won’t have to touch strange doors.

.

.

Unfortunately, (or fortunately depending on your point of view) it also looks like a kinky sex toy.

Next is an electric wine aerator.

.

.

Because Covid has us all at the end of our ropes and we don’t have enough patience left to let our reds breathe on their own.

.

.

A wobble cushion to activate my core?

Just, no.

Isn’t that what husbands are for?

.

.

Frozen shot glasses. Now we’re talking.

.

.

I don’t bore easily and can’t see the need for one of these…. but our friends had one at their lakefront camp last year and said it was a riot.

Ya know, if frying insect life to a crisp is your thing.

.

This bitch has got to go.

.

Every Sunday night I kick the husband off the big tv in the living room and stay up late binge watching a bunch of recorded series. I don’t watch a lot of television, but I am addicted to a few HBO, Starz and Showtime programs that my other half hates.

So Monday is the one morning I sleep past 5:00am… and I relish my extra 2 hours. But this Monday morning? I was woken by a noise.

Scratching. And banging. Then more scratching.

I grumbled, I stumbled, I got out of bed and I found this….

.

.

The red squirrel bitch from Hell. She had scaled the bush alongside the house and was scrambling up and down the screen, over and over. And then?

.

.

She just hung there.

Taunting me.

.

.

That bitch has got to go.

.

Let the games begin.

.

So now that we have a comfortable, heated and (well stocked with beer) man cave, it was time to get down to some serious board game playing. Covid social restrictions make multi player games like Pictionary and Cards Against Humanity a no go, so we searched for something fun to play with two people.

The husband won’t play Trivial Pursuit or Gin Rummy with me anymore because I wipe the floor with him every time. So we tried a game a friend had given us last year as a gift.

.

.

Simple enough, you finish the lines from various categories… music, literature etc.

We played three games and I skunked my other half three times. Even though I gave him music questions from his favorite song.

.

.

So we moved on to a classic, Scrabble.

It wasn’t an easy start and we didn’t have a lot to build from.

.

.

My task was made even more difficult with letters like these.

.

.

And these.

.

.

And then these.

.

.

But after a marathon four and a half hour game?

I won…. and my husband was pickled.

.

.

We have a bar!

.

An honest to goodness, sturdy and well built, fully stained and polyurethaned, ready to dance on (or fall under) bar!

.

.

It was a long time coming but we’re pleased with the result.

.

.

The wood grain is lovely, the top is smooth and shiny.

.

.

And once the custom ordered chairs and shelves are ready, it will be time to get down to business.

.

.

The business of mixing my first Barn Mahal cocktail.

.

.

I bet you thought I was done.

.

But I’m not done sharing wonderful photos from Joel Sartore because he has another book.

.

Great Blue Turaco

.

A book full of birds.

Northern White Faced Owl

.

Our fine feathered….

.

Baby Golden Parakeet

.

And not quite feathered yet friends.

.

Golden Pheasant

.

Being an avid bird watcher and feeder, this book warms my soul.

.

Kea

.

I’ll try not to overshare.

.

Andean Cock of the Rock

.

But look at these beauties.

.

Vulturine Guineafowl

.

It’s going to be tough.

.

And they say drinking doesn’t pay.

.

At the beginning of December we gave $10 to a fundraiser for our local food bank which we wouldn’t have known about it if we hadn’t been sitting in our corner at the local pub.

We drank…

.

.

And lo and behold, it paid off.

Because yesterday when we stopped in for a burger and a beer? This was placed in front of me by the bartender….

.

.

The husband joked that they didn’t need to bribe us to drink there…

.

.

But damn. For $100 gift card? I’d drink anywhere.

Apparently our donation was part of a raffle and we won a prize.

.

.

Who says drinking doesn’t pay?

.

I never thought I’d say this..

.

But drop what thoust is doing and get thee to the nearest Wal Mart forthwith.

.

.

Yes, that Wal Mart.

And I know, you’ll need to wear blinders or your faith in the human race as a species will spiral down the drain…. but trust me. This time it will be worth it.

Because during a begrudged trip there the other day to buy bird seed since both our local stores were out?

I found this:

.

.

And holy guacamole Batman! There’s a little taste of paradise in every bite. Rich, sweet, and buttery…. I don’t even care if I’ll have to let my pants out at the waist next week.

And if that’s not enough to entice you to walk down Wal Mart’s hallowed halls?

Here’s an added bonus.

.

.

If there’s an award for the world’s most patient wife…

.

I should win it.

Hands down.

.

.

Because I’ve been looking at this mess for…. count them…. 37 frickin’ days.

.

.

This giant load of useless crap was belched from my husband’s closet in the den on December 8th when he needed to climb up in the attic.

I didn’t bitch, it was a necessity.

And since he had the next 30 days off work because he didn’t take any vacation in 2020, I figured he would deal with it at his leisure.

I was wrong. So very wrong.

I didn’t bitch a week later when it was still there.

But two weeks later? I was bitching silently in my head.

Three weeks later? I was bitching in my sleep.

Four weeks later? I was bitching opening while plotting his slow, but quite painful demise.

It’s only today, 37 frickin’ days later, the day before he goes back to work….

.

.

That he decided to deal with it. Of course it’s not a matter of simply putting things back in the closet. No. That would be too simple. Instead, each and every item must be fully examined and then brought to me for the desired but never realized “Gee, that’s swell. I wish you had 6 more just like it!” response.

Then he leaves the item in front of me with hopes that I’ll look it up and find it’s worth thousands of dollars.

FYI? The Moosehead beer mirror my husband knew was a vintage bar collectible?

.

.

Turned out to be a carnival prize worth $10.

As I type he’s knee deep in a stack of tattered Look magazines from the 60’s.

This clean up may take a while.

Another 37 days is not out of the realm of possibility.

.

*Update – 5 hours later? The room is still littered with crap and there’s a ladder in the hallway.

.

.

Good times.

.