.
You know the drill.
.
.
This goes for my husband at every meal. If his food isn’t flaming hot and burning his tongue? He’s not happy.
.
.
Finally, there’s hope for the politicians in Washington. Let’s all chip in and buy them a few…
.
.
Who is this chick anyway?
.
.
No one is more thankful than me that the subscription to Cosmopolitan I received as a gift last year has run out.
🥴
.
.
I was in Wal Mart the other day, innocently walking through the health and beauty section looking for some reading glasses.
We call them cheaters and I swear the older I get the more I need a pair in every single room of the house and two in the kitchen.
I’m old y’all.
And while I admit I have a hard time reading the fine print on labels, I didn’t have any trouble identifying these products when I turned the corner in search of eyeball magnification.
.
.
Tush toys?
Vibrating rings?
Little suckers?
Shelf upon shelf of …. accessories.
And to think I used to take my mother shopping here.
🥴
.
.
Since the renovation project is at a standstill, walkies have resumed at Casa River.
And with cooler weather coming on that means mouse hunting.
.
.
Lord Dudley Mountcatten can hear them scurrying under the foliage and through the rock wall and after long patient observation…
.
.
He’s airborne.
Straight up in the blink of an eye.
Just like an arctic fox.
.
.
He chases birds in the burning bush as well but that’s not nearly as entertaining, though it is more colorful this time of year.
.
.
No worries, he never catches any.
.
.
Catching His Lordship in full arctic fox mode is difficult but I managed one good shot.
.
.
Unfortunately for him none of these flying leaps resulted in a captured mouse.
.
.
Maybe next time…
.
.
As well as the ceremony at the Beirut Memorial, my husband’s squadron hosted a reunion dinner. And as you can imagine, being surrounded by old Marines telling stories is just about my husband’s favorite place to be.
.
.
From left to right… Corporal, Gunny, Captain.
.
.
The next day it was a picnic at the marina on base.
More old comrades, more stories.
.
.
And while they were on the air station? A chance to refamiliarize themselves with the big toys.
.
.
The V-22 Osprey, an 80 million dollars per nightmare of an aircraft. My husband worked on this program when the Marine Corps first adopted them to replace his beloved CH-46 helicopter. 30 years of R&D and they were still falling out of the sky. We had one crash down the road from our house when we lived in North Carolina and Marines were refusing orders to fly in them. Meant to assist troop deployment in the Middle East, it was discovered the intake clogged with sand which rendered it virtually useless. I’ve read they’ve finally worked out the kinks. Time will tell.
.
.
A CH-53 Sea Stallion. The first heavy lift transport helicopter to be refueled in the air. I’ve been in one of these, they’re beasts.
.
.
The Bell UH-1 Iroquois, otherwise known as the Huey…. the workhorse of the Marine Corps and beloved by Vietnam Veterans like my husband.
.
.
The twin engine AH-1W Super Cobra with its blades folded down. This is a lean, mean, made for attack machine.
(Believe it or not yours truly can identify which of these choppers is flying over her head by sound alone. That’s what you get from living in a military town for 16 years.)
.
.
I love chickens.
And since I am forbidden by my husband to adopt chickens, I must live vicariously through other chicken parents.
These particular chickens?
.
.
They’re living their best life.
.
.
Most excellent.
.
.
I’m in awe at the creativity.
👍
.
.
You don’t have to….
But you should.
.
.
Looking back… I realize I must have been a strange child because I honestly can’t think of a single thing.
I was never afraid of monsters under the bed. I always slept in a room by myself, in the dark.
I watched horror movies under the covers, I played spotlight in the backyard.
I liked bugs, and snakes and toads.
Thankfully I grew up in a loving stable home in an era where no one had to warn me about talking to strangers or telling my parents if someone touched me inappropriately.
I had an idyllic childhood and happily sailed through it with no fears.
How about you?
What scared you as a child…
.
.
.
Being an avid reader, I got an immense kick out of this photo that translates the word bookworm into other languages.
And while I’m totally on board with being a French ink drinker…
.
.
Being a Finnish chapter maggot doesn’t seem at all appealing.
🤣
.
.
We have to special order two replacement doors.
I have told our contractor numerous times what type of doors we want. He relays this information to the store rep he orders through.
And while the rep was on track with the living room door for some reason the bedroom door is still a problem.
I gave our contractor the door catalog and circled these three styles.
.
.
I texted him this photo from the website.
.
.
I specifically described the shape and style of the top window door we want. I gave him everything he needed to order said door which he passed along to the sales rep… so you can imagine my surprise when he emailed me this.
.
.
Does that look like the door we wanted?
No, it does not. So a few days later he emailed me this.
.
.
Does that look like the door we wanted?
Again, it does not… so a few days later he emailed me this.
.
.
Okay, we’re getting closer… but this half fan model is a bit old fashioned and not the door that we want.
Help me out here. Am I being unclear… or is this a man thing?
Do all pretty windows look the same to the male eye?
I swear this door will be the death of me. Or at the very least the death of my sanity.
.
.
I live in Maine.
Today is November 1rst.
We’re still waiting for the oh so special Marvin window reps to grace us with their presence and friends, let me tell you… things are starting to get real up in here.
Last night the temps dropped into the 30’s and the wind blew for hours. And when I say it blew… I mean right into the bedroom through the gaps in the faulty windows that are on either side of our bed.
Cold drafts on my neck? Yes.
High pitched whistling that woke me up at 2:09am? You betcha.
Now I don’t know about you, but I am not my best self at 2:09am. Being a lifelong insomniac means the hours between 1 and 3 are pretty much the only ones I can guarantee to be deeply asleep. So when I have to get up and scramble around the bedroom in the dark looking for something to plug the leaks?
It’s not going to be pretty.
.
.
If you notice anything odd about the picture I took this morning it will be on the right hand side.
.
.
Because at 2:09am in the bedroom in the dark?
.
.
Socks is what I found to plug the drafty whistling windows.
Jesus wept.
This is my life now.
.
.
At daybreak I did manage to rustle up some foam weatherstripping from the utility closet.
.
.
But like every other piece of bad luck I’ve been having, there wasn’t quite enough.
🥴
.
.
When my husband goes out of town for a few days? I get busy cleaning and organizing. It’s so much easier to do when my resident hoarder isn’t around saying “No… you can’t throw that out!”
First up was our utility (slash pantry slash I don’t know what to do with it so stick it in there) closet. I was merciless and got rid of a huge pile of worthless odds, ends and scraps. And buried under all that crap?
.
.
A whole lotta plastic wrap, tin foil and Ziploc baggies. When the next supply chain apocalypse arrives? We’re ready.
🤣
After that clean out I moved on to our walk in closet. This is always a nightmare because I can’t resist a bargain when it comes to clothes shopping at thrift stores. I rarely take time to try things on when I’m there because hey… when a pair of jeans costs $2 and doesn’t fit? Who cares.
.
.
Turns out our closet shelves cared because they were positively sagging under the weight.
Question- how many pairs of jeans and capris did I have to try on and sort?
Answer- 56.
.
.
Nine bags of assorted jeans, capris, blouses, sweaters, purses and shoes ready to give to charity.
There’s nothing like a good purge.
It’s good for the soul..
.
River's world..... 