Possibilities of seasonal views. Which means – From your heavily wooded lot, in the dead of winter when all the trees are bare, if you stand on the edge of your bathroom sink and crane your neck to the north? You might see a tiny section of ice covered pond water.
Technically they’re not lying, but still.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten loves his toys. He loves them so much he shreds an average of one a week.
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It’s a veritable catnip mouse slaughterhouse around here.
Ever since we painted the barn/man cave the perfect shade of red, I’ve been sputtering about recovering the porch furniture because now… it clashes.
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I recently bought some color coordinated fabric and found a local woman who’s going to do the job.
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Me… sew? Yeah, that’s not happening. So while I was waiting for the seamstress to tell me she was done with prom and wedding dress alterations, I saw this:
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WTH?
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The edges of all the cushions had been shredded!
I ranted, I blamed woodchucks. I cursed, I blamed mice. I sputtered, I blamed chipmunks. But guess what?
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The real culprit..
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Was a bird looking for nesting material.
Mother Nature. She has all manner of ways to drive you crazy.
If you’ve ever visited my state and had a conversation with the locals, you might have been baffled by some of our regional expressions. You had no idea what the hell we were talking about? No worries… I’m here to help.
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We say this a lot. (But please ignore the ‘how’. It should be now.)
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Hint – “The County” is usually uttered with derision in southern Maine. Aroostook is potato country, way up by the Canadian border…. we have to pump sunlight to those people.
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This a is a very popular word in my neck of the woods. It affirms a position as well as cutting off the need for further discussion. Mainers can be a taciturn bunch.
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Personally, I don’t use this term. The word tourist and it’s synonyms… snowbirds, outta staters, Massholes ( specific to people from the Boston area ) are much more common. But these people do swarm our best areas from June to September and are extremely easy to spot.
Not at all pleased to find the marigolds everyone told me to plant to because animals hate them flowers I’d so lovingly tended were being beheaded.
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My first thought was woodchucks because those little devils have decimated my gardens in the past. So I liberally sprayed everything with coyote urine. ( Helpful hint – don’t do this on a windy afternoon like yours truly. People will shun you for days.)
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The next morning?
Another beheading.
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The day after that? Two.
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Third day? Three decapitations and multiple plants nibbled down to nubs.
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I was livid and rethinking my woodchucks are so cute! policy. Until….
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I watched a mouse come out from under the baby barn and try to drag a marigold blossom in. Mice? Since when do mice eat marigolds? Do I have a mutant strain of blossom munching rodents nesting in our lawn mowers? Turns out I do, and though I never ever resort to poison?
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When I found multiple piles of rodent poo, I did. No mutant mouse is going to nest in the husband’s new $5,000 zero turn tractor. Uh uh. Not happening.
Sure, what could go wrong. And advertised for use in school? Even better… though something tells me the teachers Union might not be on board.
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Chin fat? Even if I had it, I doubt I’d be wearing this chamber of horrors device. Why does that woman look happy wearing what amounts to a facial fireplace….
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Good grief. I get enough animal bites from an annoyed Lord Dudley Mountcatten, I don’t need ear nibbling Tyrannosauruses.
Meet Viola AI, the new app that transforms your face.
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And a great way to waste time when you’re babysitting a friend’s 6 year old.
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Yes, I’ve heard about the possible face recognition hacking … but I don’t use that feature on my phone. And if they want to steal my picture it’s nothing they couldn’t already do by cruising Facebook or this blog.
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So don’t kvetch about this mishegas….. it’s just innocent fun.
Last weekend I was reading on the barn porch, enjoying the view of the neighbor’s farm…
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And of our other neighbor walking by….
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When suddenly my view changed.
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Because the husband decided it was time ( after I bugged him for 7… Yes, 7 years. ) to put up a gutter.
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I’ll spare you the four hour nightmare of angles, cutting, bracketing, ladder placement and yes a good bit of cursing as well…
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And get right to the cute stuff.
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A baby woodchuck.
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Make that two baby woodchucks. It’s summer and the little scampers are peaking out from under the barn. Totally adorable. And much more fun to watch than this…
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Especially since the gutter leaked like Hell the first time it rained.
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Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.