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We picked up the husband’s motorcycle from the shop last week.
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And a mere $1,100 later….
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He was back on the road.
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And though I was ready to say goodbye to the bikes…
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I knew he was enjoying the feel of the wind in ( what’s left of ) his hair.
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There really is nothing like it.
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And I’m thinking the bikes will probably be with us a bit longer.
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The husband was late coming home from breakfast with the boys the other day and it didn’t take me long to realize why.
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My husband’s favorite word is free. And a free table and chairs on the side of the road proved irresistible.
Was it a nice table and chairs in good condition? I think you know the answer to that….
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It was horrible. The table was covered in paint and stickers with an assortment of cracks and gouges.
The chairs? Eww.
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Stained beyond all hope of cleaning. But that didn’t deter the husband, no sir. He was going to fix everything and sell it.
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I couldn’t imagine who would want it, though the table was solid oak and expanded to 8 feet with the leaves.
He spent the next 3 days working on it and with a lot of elbow grease and nail polish remover, managed to clean the table top.
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At this point I felt he had suffered enough and introduced him to the wonders of Old English scratch cover oil.
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Not perfect, but a damned sight better.
To be continued….
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This one’s easy. It won’t hurt at all.
I promise.
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There’s only one answer for me. Disneyland. (Or World). The planet’s largest theme parks hold absolutely no appeal for me and at this point in my life I think I’d rather take a cruise ship straight to Hell than stroll the over crowded streets of the over priced plastic fantastic pinnacle of capitalism that is Disney.
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But then, I dislike theme parks in general. Busch Gardens? Great Adventures? Been there, hated them both. Honestly? I didn’t even like them when I was a child. They’re just so… fake.
So how about you…
Where do you never want to vacation that everyone else loves?
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We’re officially down to one woodchuck.
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And he/she is making the most of the lack of competition., chowing down on the buffet in peace.
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Woodchuck….
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Or woodchonk?
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I’m leaning towards the latter.
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Did I mention I was surprised at the amount of space devoted to penile combat injuries in this book ?
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It definitely wasn’t what I expected…
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Though I admit I now know more about the subject than I probably need to.
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Ditto that for Liquid Ass.
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No, this book wasn’t at all what I expected and as I read on? It kept going downhill…
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Forget nuclear weapons and terrorism, it’s the unruly digestive tract that will be the death of us.
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When they said war is Hell? That’s what they meant…
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Baby wipes? Sailors are such delicate creatures…
😉
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Husband wanted to go to the annual giant yard sale at the Cumberland Fairgrounds this past Saturday and you know only the lure of cheap treasure would make him wait on this kind of line.
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The gates opened at 9:00am. We were there at 9:01 and the line was already insane. This is just a fraction of it –
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Naturally the heat and humidity came roaring back with a vengeance that day.
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How hot was it?
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Bald men wearing trash bag hats hot.
Was the treasure worth the long line and $10 per person entrance fee?
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I didn’t think so.
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But you know the husband had to fully examine each and every table.
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We were there for nearly 4 hours. Me getting sweatier and crankier by the minute… him never failing to strike up a conversation with a fellow Marine.
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In his hands? Some kind of haying tool and an antique wallpaper ruler.
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And whatever this was.
Treasure?
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You be the judge.
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Zoolak?
This required some research. It certainly doesn’t sound tasty….
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And though there were vintage crates galore, not one was man cave appropriate… so I just came home with a few more albums.
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For Mistermuse –
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Our bird bath has been a Godsend to wild creatures this dry, drought ridden summer. Birds bathe and numerous animals drink… like this thirsty little fellow.
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Now that the random apple tree has matured we’re seeing a lot more squirrels.
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The bath is simply a jump away.
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And perfect on hot days.
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As is splooting in the shade.
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🙂
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One of our favorite restaurants has been letting us down lately.
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And while the cocktails and atmosphere are still wonderful ( fresh blueberry mojito, yum!) the quality of the food has been going downhill. Garlic Parmesan wings? Dry and tasteless.
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Pricey pan seared scallops on risotto? Over cooked seafood on a soggy bed of mush.
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Burgundy braised short ribs? Chewy shoe leather. It all looked good, but wasn’t. So we’ve decided one of our favorite dinner restaurants will now just be one of our favorite watering holes.
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Cucumber and elderflower cooler? Yeah, I’m not giving that up.
And the regular bar crowd is a hoot.
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Mr. I Drink My Jameson With A Cover and A Straw In Case I Spill was back, and you have to appreciate a man who knows his limitations.
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I’m beginning to wonder exactly what kind of weirdo Facebook thinks I am.
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The husband and I will not be rocking matching bat suits anytime soon. ( Not to say we wouldn’t crush them, I simply don’t feel the need)
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This made me do a double take, and further research was warranted.
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Jeans that give new meaning to the phrase pants on fire.
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I had to laugh at this ad because I just saw the exact product at a flea market for $10. Sorry Pier One.
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I can say it. But from now on, I won’t.
🤣
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I admit to taking a selfie now and then, usually when we go somewhere wonderful… but mainly because I have a husband who never takes pictures. Ever. It’s a harmless if slightly narcissistic endeavor, and my mother is dead… so if not me, who?
Then there’s the Instagram crowd. The influencers. The vapid youth of today who get paid ridiculous sums for photos that go viral. They’ll go to any lengths to get a breathtaking selfie and call me cold hearted, but I rarely feel bad when I read they fall into the Grand Canyon or off a speeding train.
Which is probably why I cringed when I read this article.
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I have been to Le Gorges du Verdon and it was fabulous. Mainly because there was no one else there.
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The husband, a friend and I drove through the French Alps for a solid 10 hours and saw only one other person. A sheep herder with his flock. It was beyond marvelous.
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That’s me sitting on the wall filing my nails waiting for the husband to climb back up from below.
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The gorge was wild and wonderful. Unspoiled nature ruled.
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As did the goats.
We visited in the early 90’s. The fact that’s it now jam packed with insipid, shallow Instagram tourists breaks my heart. And I bet the goats don’t like it either.
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