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It’s March first…. and that means it’s time for a new calendar squirrel.
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This month we see the little red devil has loaded up the kids and taken to the road.
Let it be known – I will gladly purchase a Barbie recreational vehicle if our furry red rodent from Hell will hit the highway. Heck, I’ll fill the damn thing with nuts if that’s what it takes for her to vacate the premises.
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Look, it even has a pool. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the little bitch will drown.
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We have wild turkeys that visit our backyard bird feeders to scrounge what’s fallen on the ground.
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We’ve had flocks for decades and it’s never been an issue. They’re goofy…. and honestly, I find them quite comical to watch. But this past year, in which my husband has been home 24/7 hogging all the bandwidth teleworking… he’s taken an interest in feeding the birds.
The man who used to complain I bought too much seed and spent too much money on suet nuggets now glares at me if the 50lb pound bag falls below a quarter. And since he gets up at an unfathomable time of the morning ( pre sunrise people… WTF? ) he’s usually the first one out the door to fill the feeders.
If the turkeys visit in the spring, summer or fall? Fine. But in the winter their prodigious piles of poo land on snow and ice which is not nearly as absorbent as dirt and well…. let’s just say Tiny Tim isn’t going to be singing about tiptoeing through that anytime soon.
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Hence the never ending battle my extremely stubborn husband wages on a daily basis.
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This will go on for hours.
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Even when he’s on the phone for work dealing with a man in violation of FAA regulations.
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He chases them, they run to the edge of the property line and wait for him to go back in the house, they return, he chases them…etc, etc, etc.
If you think you’ve never met anyone more stubborn than a retired Marine? You’ve never met a Maine wild turkey.
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The funniest part of his new hobby? As soon as he gives up and goes back in the office….
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The turkeys call in reinforcements and descend en masse. He chased a dozen…. 26 came back.
And so it goes.
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If you’re not watching this…
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I have two things to say:
Why the Hell not?
And
You should be. (Because you really should.)
Equal parts food…
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Stunning scenery…..
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And history…..
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Not to mention Tucci’s droll wit… (Do you know he broke the internet with a cocktail? My kind of guy. ) it really is a wonderful show.
So what are you waiting for?
Sunday 9:00pm on CNN.
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Or does Lord Dudley Mountcatten look like a furry four footed vampire?
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It may be time to rethink him sleeping alongside me in bed….
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This store has my name written all over it.
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My husband would tell you we don’t need any more sarcasm here, but I beg to differ.
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And maybe that’s what was wrong with this month…. I didn’t make it my bitch.
Snow, rain, freeze, ice, melt, repeat.
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And by repeat…. I mean I keep repeating fix the damn gutter! to my husband so I don’t have to listen to this all day long.
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And in case you’re wondering what kind of weather we have in Maine?
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That sums it up nicely.
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You upload one little photo of your new family member to Facebook.
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Just one, to show everyone how sweet he is…. and that damn algorithm kicks into high gear.
Now, along with the constant ball wash and toilet incense ads?
I’m getting these:
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Cat butt pillow cases?
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I love our new little furry friend…. but have absolutely no desire to slip off into dreamland with my face on his ass crack.
One feline does not a crazy cat lady make.
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Bet you didn’t know there are so many words added to the dictionary every year did you?
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What… you don’t care? Then it’s probably better if you skip to the next blog.
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Lie in. The British phrase for staying in bed past the time you were supposed to get up. Personally I’d like to have a lie in till Covid is a thing of the past…. but that would probably require more pajamas than I currently own.
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Miniseries? This is 1963. I thought Roots was the first.
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Phat. I seem to remember that term from my misspent youth. Pretty Hot and Tempting. Though when I searched for a meme…. I got this.
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Captain Kirk would be so pleased.
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You never know what part of the house cats will gravitate toward. We’ve had desk felines..
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Bed felines….
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Chair felines….
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Even motorcycle felines.
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And now it looks like our newest addition has chosen my mother’s old bookcase.
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Yes, Lord Dudley Mountcatten has laid claim to this spot in our bedroom window.
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From it he can recline in the warmth of the sun….
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And hover over the birds who seek shelter in the bushes directly underneath.
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I think I’m going to have to remove that planter. It seems to be migrating closer to the edge everyday.
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Turnabout is fair play, right?
So after all those awful Ball Wash ads I kept getting I suppose this was inevitable.
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A pain free ride?
I’m not sure whether to be relieved…
Or scared.
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Because I’m still here and still trying to find the humor in it.
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I remember climbing over seats into the back of our station wagon and sticking my feet out the rear window while my parents barreled down the Jersey Turnpike to the shore. How the hell did any of us survive to adulthood?
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This is why we’re not traveling. People be morons.
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Now if someone could just tell me how I can apply Dizzy Izzy…. my life will be complete.
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Good grief, I hope not. That will seriously impede my martini consumption.
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