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While out antique shopping the other day we got stuck behind this fellow.
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Which annoyed my pass crazy husband to no end because there was no opportunity to whip out around him.
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Maine.
Where it snows wood chips in July.
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😳
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Because you’re never too old for games.
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After the past two years of crazed pandemic shopping and empty store shelves? There’s only one answer for me…
Toilet paper!
Lock your doors and windows….
I’m coming for your Charmin.
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So what are you stealing?
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My vinyl collection is calling for a few more vintage whisky/beer crates so I twisted the husband’s arm and we spent a day antiquing. (You know that’s a lie. He was probably warming up the car while I was still in the shower)
On the way we had lunch at a little farm to table cafe housed in what used to be the Home for the Feeble Minded. It was uninspiring, so no photos. But the grounds at what is now Pinelands Farm are impressive.
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As is their endless mile of fencing.
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Our first stop was a store in a barn. And a beautiful barn it was.
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On the grounds of the owner’s home, it was a lovely place to shop.
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I like our man cave, but found myself knee deep in vintage barn envy at this two hundred year old gem.
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Two full floors of treasure but no wooden crates.
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I was tempted to come home with the Special Scintillator…
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If for no other reason than the name. But the husband vetoed that purchase.
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Onward…
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We feed birds.
We feed grosbeaks and orioles. Finches and chickadees. Nuthatches and woodpeckers. Cardinals and mourning doves.
We feed a wide variety of birds.
This however, was a first.
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One lone seagull.
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Who dropped in to nosh on the deer grain.
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Proof positive you never know who’ll show up at Casa River.
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Because the world is full of it. In more ways than one…
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The only appropriate response to this is…. why?
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I was unaware of this beyond ridiculous law, but sadly it’s true. And once again it makes me wonder, why does America hate its women?
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Finally, a workout routine I might be able to stick with.
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You can run, but you can’t hide. Sorry Georgia and South Carolina.
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I can’t confirm this particular news, but I really hope it’s true.
🤣
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Like a Roman emperor, our fox has gotten so comfortable here he prefers to take his meals lying down.
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Why stand and burn all those pesky calories.
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If the humans are going to lay out a nightly buffet, I guess he figures he might as well enjoy it in comfort.
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🤣
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I love finding a new watering hole, and recently we hit the jackpot.
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The Blind Pig Tavern. So named because sympathetic policemen were known to turn a blind eye to speakeasies back in the day.
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This place has a modern rustic feel, randomly placed pigs and the most fabulous craft cocktail list I’ve seen in years.
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Ooh la la!
From the breadth of selection, I knew it was going to be a long afternoon.
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First up? The raspberry basil martini. I’m a sucker for mixing fresh herbs in alcohol and this was sheer perfection. The bartender must have known I was in it for the long haul because she brought me the bonus amount as well. Waste not, want not.
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Next up was the pineapple sage gimlet. As it was being served, the bartender told me she went easy on the sage because a few people said it tasted like tree bark. Amateurs! I took one sip and asked for the full strength version. It was sublime.
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And lest you think all I do is drink, there was food as well. Parmesan garlic brined wings to share…
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And a pulled pork Mac and cheese that was rich, creamy, delicious and enough for three meals.
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There was also a blackberry violet sour. The bartender said a few people told her this one tasted like soap…. which made me marvel at the masses of unrefined drinkers who came before. Go back to the 7-11 and pick up a pack of Bud you heathens! This cocktail was tart, sweet, fragrant and complex. A layered masterpiece.
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As we rounded toward evening, I ended on the Butterfly martini. With gin, St. Germain, violette liquor, hibiscus simple syrup and rose water it was a veritable flower garden in a glass.
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Random picture of the husband’s giant bowl of haddock chowder because yes, he was there too. Someone had to drive me home after all.
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Cute touch. I left the bartender a big tip, but no bucket for the kitchen this time around.
The Blind Pig has earned the top slot on our visited once, have to go back list. So many cocktails, so little time…
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Our woodchucks are nothing if not chill.
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After a nice nosh on carrot slices?
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Babies be sleepy.
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And apparently warm sunny rocks are just as good as a hammock.
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Day four saw us driving back over to the stone yard for another pallet of lovelies… but instead of rocks we were met with an obstacle to construction.
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Closed due to illness.
These days that only means one thing….
Covid has thrown a wrench into our garden bed border completion plans.
😡
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The woodchucks are still hiding in their tunnel…
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And it’s proving to be quite an effective escape hatch.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten is undeterred.
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And extremely hopeful.
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Patience, thy name is cat.
🤣
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