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Here’s hoping your Thanksgiving is filled with all your favorite things.
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For me it’s all about the stuffing. Or dressing if you prefer. The right one makes the meal, the wrong one kills it.
I’m also making a double batch of Harvest Sangria. That goes a long way to improving people’s mood.
And I’m not sure why this even needs to be said, but apparently it does.
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Someone.. sometime… had to do this.
The mind boggles.
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You’re not going to believe this.
I’m having a hard time believing it myself and I live here.
When last we spoke… I still had two new windows with large air gaps, we’d gotten into a pissing contest with the store manager, were waiting on the report from the second supposed expert and our contractor was going to fight management for a full refund.
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Fast forward a week and I’m out shopping with a girlfriend. I get a phone call from our contractor who says the store manager bumped the problem up to corporate… who slid it over to the manufacturer… who wanted to come out and inspect the windows that day, right that minute. Thankfully the husband was home teleworking so off they went.
I heard this second hand, but gather it went something like this –
The top Marvin window guy arrived with the store manager we bumped heads with in tow. Husband wasn’t pleased with that, but managed to be civil.
Our contractor was there and went through all the steps he’d taken to fix the problem. The window parts were examined, measured and proclaimed well within acceptable limits… because hey, nothing’s perfect. The Marvin window guy asked my husband what he wanted… fully functioning windows or a full refund? Since hubby has been spitting mad for over a month I thought for sure I’d come home to gaping holes in the bedroom. But we’d chosen this particular product for a reason… good insulation rating, ease of tilting for cleaning, wood interior, low U factor, etc and no other window we looked at checked all the boxes…. so he said if the windows were installed properly and operated as advertised he’d be happy.
Agreeing that the two sashes were slightly off square, Mr. Marvin said his company would replace them and we could keep the others as spares.
And then?
Then he did something that left my both my husband’s and the contractor’s mouths hanging open.
He removed the right window sash and replaced it with the left.
He removed the left window sash and replaced it with the right.
The result?
No more gaps.
No more air leaking through.
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Oh, he’s still going to order replacement sashes for us… but as of this minute? The windows seem to be fine and my mind is blown. The one on the right is a little stiff and harder to close, but it’s airtight and a little silicon spray on the sides should help it glide more easily.
What the hell!
Was that all it took? Why didn’t the other “experts” think of this! A simple switcheroo solved the problem we’ve been fighting since October 6th and I don’t know whether to scream or cry because it’s so ridiculous.
Needless to say our contractor was dumbfounded. He spent all that time trying to make things right and never thought of swapping sides.
So…
The contractor is the middle of another job for our neighbors which means we’ll have to wait a week or more till he’s free to come back over here and finish installing the rest of the windows and buttoning these up.
I’m shaking my head as I type this and still can’t believe a month and a half of frustration and inconvenience was completely unnecessary.
Someday…. I’ll laugh about this.
But I’m not there yet.
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I love baseball.
Growing up in New Jersey, I was raised a Yankee fan and if my father’s office didn’t have a visiting client, we had free use of the firm’s box seats. Lots of good memories for me at that old stadium.
We moved to Maine in 1978 but I stayed loyal to the Yankees for decades… which did not endear me to New Englanders believe me. But by the turn of the millennium I gave in and switched my allegiance to the Red Sox.
I was a Sox fan in 2004 through Schilling’s bloody sock in the ALCS and the long awaited curse breaking World Series win. Good times.
It took us 86 years to break the curse of the Bambino after we sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees in 1918. And growing up with that story from both sides, I always thought the Babe started his career with the Sox.
Turns out I was wrong.
He started with Baltimore.. and his rookie card is about to go up for auction.
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I have a handful of baseball cards, nothing special … just a few players I like. And I’ve never paid more than $20 for any of them. But boy, I sure wish I’d stumbled across this one in a box at a yard sale.
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My husband swears he had a Mickey Mantle rookie card as a kid. And he could have. The time frame would be right. But … are you ready?…. he says he put it in between the spokes of his bicycle tire to hear the nifty flapping noise.
$12.6 million.
Sigh.
🥴
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Thoroughly disgusted with everything about Hammond Lumber due to our ongoing window fiasco, we instructed our contractor never to buy anything from them for us again. This includes the back doors that poorly run excuse for a store couldn’t manage to find after 3 weeks of trying.
The mind boggles.
With those instructions… our poor, beleaguered, probably sick of us contractor went across town to another building supplier called Hancock Lumber and opened an account.
Within minutes they found the odd sized bedroom door with the decorative window we wanted in the correct size.
It’s a miracle!
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They actually laughed when told what an issue we’d been having with it.
And not only did they promptly order that door, but they had the full glass panel door with built in blind we need for the living room…the one that baffled the other place… on the display floor.
Another miracle!
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Our contractor was so thrilled he took photos and texted them to me.
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And that my friends is how it’s supposed to work.
You go to the store.
You tell them what you want.
They order it.
In a matter of minutes.
I’m not religious, but thank you Jesus!
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Oh, sure. We paid more than I expected…but the damn things will here in 10-14 days and with any luck will be installed before it snows.
Finally!
Some good news.
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On our way back from the disappointing brewery the other day I made the husband pull into The Holy Donut…. because I’ve posted about them a few times but haven’t had the chance to try them.
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The almost $24 half dozen box cradled comfortably in my lap, we made for home.
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I was excited to try these extremely popular, much talked about, potato laden famous Maine treats.
Flavor assortment from top to bottom:
Apple cider glazed, apple cinnamon, toasted coconut, maple bacon, vanilla chai and the one slot I afforded my husband… an old fashioned. Yes, the only donut he likes is plain, to which I respond – why bother.
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As I dove in to taste test, the first thing I noticed was size. These things are big.
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But sadly, like everything else…. quantity does not equal quality. While the apple cider glazed and toasted coconut were tasty enough, I have to admit I was underwhelmed. The donuts were heavy, thick and generally nothing special. I admit to trying a chunk of each one while they were fresh and can’t say they were worth the effort or price (3.75 per). People go nuts for these things in Maine and will stand on line outside the stores in order to purchase them but honestly, after trying them? I don’t understand why.
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Because there’s so much ridiculousness out there.
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I’m wondering how much money it cost to sit this panel and research such an important topic.
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Is holding it at home better or worse?
On second thought, don’t answer that.
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Speaking as a lover of creative craft cocktails.…
No.
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#TeamJavelina.
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As most people owned by cats know, the world revolves solely around them. Our houses are run exclusively for their comfort and the well being of our furry overlords is our number one priority. That being said, it shouldn’t surprise me the furniture industry has gotten on board.
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While Lord Dudley Mountcatten is not a people food eater or beggar, I have a feeling he would enjoy this immensely.
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This illustration speaks for itself.
And because no cat post of mine is complete without His Lordship.
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I must now stop typing and attend to his needs.
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As soon as I can figure out what they are.
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It was a crisp fall day, so we headed down Route 1 south to Saco to try a brewery I’d been hearing about for years.
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It’s housed in a refurbished mill complex on the river…
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And the atmosphere was wonderful. Brick walls and rustic wood.
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Naturally my husband headed for the bar where we sat behind some fancy taps.
See who’s in the middle of them?
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Rex.
Bar dog extraordinaire.
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Being a brewery we had to try a flight of everything they had on tap.
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And I enjoyed them so much I ordered a strawberry basil vodka lemonade.
How can so many different beers be so bad? Lager, stout, ale, IPA, amber, brown. Seriously, they were all sub par.
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I really wanted to like this place, but it wasn’t meant to be.
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And while my crab cake appetizer with remoulade wasn’t bad…
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The husband hated his French onion soup so another pub will be added to our never return list.
I guess I should have paid more attention.
It was all right there in the name.
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🤣
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You know how they say war is Hell? While I’m sure that’s true, I’d like to add an addendum…
Custom made windows are the absolute bottom, flame filled, covered in kale and cilantro, merciless pit of no return, bad hair day Hell.
After waiting a month and half with two faulty windows already installed, and after having two separate store rep / window experts make home visits to tell us the windows were indeed faulty, we went to the store from which they were purchased to seek satisfaction yesterday.
(Please keep in mind both supposed experts suggested we get a refund.)
Our plan was to shop for a similar high grade window made by a different company. After explaining our problem, a nice salesgirl helped us start looking and things were going well until we were interrupted by the manager.
It went downhill from there. And it went downhill very quickly.
Ice covered mountain road with bald tires slathered in butter kind of quickly.
We introduced ourselves politely, stated our issue succinctly and got absolutely nowhere. After a long discussion about quality control at the manufacturing level (it’s non existent), and a longer discussion about expecting to get what you pay for (that was us) we were told –
1. No refund would be forthcoming because it was a special order.
And –
2. I’m quoting here, “Nothing is perfect.”
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To say we were stunned is an understatement.
To say my husband was ready to explode is right on the mark.
Oh, the manager said if the report filed by the second store rep expert came back showing faulty construction they would replace the off square sashes, but chuckle chuckle, hey…. they might be off square as well.
What the utter f*ck?
Are we supposed to pay over $5,500 and shrug our shoulders at defective merchandise? Apparently so.
My husband didn’t punch the manager. He didn’t even curse him out which I felt like doing repeatedly, but he did threaten to get a lawyer as we walked out.
Here’s the problem with that… technically we did not purchase the windows. Our contractor did… for us. So by the letter of the law the store doesn’t owe us anything. I’m having a hard time making my angry as all get out husband understand that, but that’s where we are.
We spoke with our contractor after this fiasco and he will be going to the store as soon as he can to fight for a refund on our behalf. To be honest I don’t see it happening.
But I’ll keep you posted.
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It wasn’t for me as I spent a miserable night wide awake and trying to get comfortable with sciatic pain.
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I’m never sure how I tweak that particular nerve, but boy it lets me know when I do.
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Rolling out of bed this morning was a slow painful process…
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But I definitely had a gorgeous view.
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I’m off to sit on an ice pack and crunch some Tylenol.
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Hope your day is starting a little better.
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River's world..... 