Tag Archives: love

Celebrating 36 years of not killing each other…..

 

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Yes, there’s that as well.

This was the very first picture of us ever taken ….

 

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Back in 1984, on that awful chair at his mother’s house…… right before we got married. I may look twelve, but no worries. I’d just turned 20. (As for the husband’s hair… I have no idea what was going on there.)

We knew each other for 6 days.

Yes, you read that correctly…. 6 days. And to be honest, 3 of those were the required waiting period for the marriage license.

People thought we were crazy.  (We knew we weren’t.)

 

Me & Fred, boat

 

People said it would never last.  (It’s been 36 years.)

 

Me & Fred, ballfield

 

The Grateful Dead had it right…..

What a Long Strange Trip It’s Been!

 

Me & Fred, Harley Rally 2

 

But I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.

Anyway…. this year on our anniversary?

 

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A seriously beautiful bouquet from my other half….

 

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That got better every day as all the blooms opened up.

 

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The rose colors were gorgeous.

Then it was off to our favorite restaurant in Boothbay Harbor…. before their doors were shut due to the virus.  The decor is nothing to write home about, and the menu is smaller in winter….. but the food is still fabulous.

 

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As were the seasonal cocktails.

I started with a Ciderberry.

 

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And moved on to a few Sugar Plums made with this.

OMG!!

If you’ve never payed attention to any of my advice before?

Start now… and buy a bottle.

 

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It doesn’t matter if you’re not a fig fan. I actually hate the things.

But this was like nothing I’d ever tasted before. A very unique flavor. I read they also make a Golden Apricot ….. and I’ll be looking for that as well.

 

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Can’t remember what they called my appetizer but it was delicious, with just the right amount of spice.

Husband went with his usual French Onion soup and a light main dish of broiled haddock and asparagus.

 

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I, on the other hand….

 

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Dove into the richest, creamiest most delightful Parmesan risotto you’ll find this side of Italy. It’s one of their specialties and I can never resist…. paired here with pan seared scallops, mushrooms, arugula and a citrus balsamic glaze.

I don’t care how many pounds I gained…

It was worth it!

 

 

 

 

Day 8…. A goose traffic jam, southern food, an overpriced theme park, and the family you choose for yourself.

 

Before I regale you with yet another day of our vacation adventures….. a little personal history.

In case you hadn’t guessed? The husband and I don’t have any children. It was a lifestyle choice we made many years ago and haven’t had cause to regret it. But back in the early 90’s we took a neighbor’s child under our wing when her single mother was having a hard time.

 

Des & Fred, ironing

 

She was the child we never had….

 

Des & a few lobsters

 

We helped raise her…..

 

Fred & Des..Forestry

 

 

And since she had no contact with her real father, my husband took over the role.

 

Attitude adjustment!!

 

Attitude adjustments et al.

 

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She wasn’t ours biologically…..

 

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But she will always be the child of our hearts.

 

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We’ve watched her grow into a beautiful young woman…

 

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And now she’s happily married…..

 

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With a child of her own….

 

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And we feel like we have a grandchild as well. They still live in North Carolina so whenever we’re near…. we get together. She loves that we have a timeshare and enjoys staying with us at the various resorts. On Day 8 of this trip? She and her daughter joined us for the weekend before Christmas.

When they arrived? A goose traffic jam…

 

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I love me some goosers… so pardon the ridiculous tone of voice I use in the video.

As well as me cursing out the idiot who was honking their horn at those sweet little waddlers.

 

 

After their 4 1/2 hour trip, Destiny and Gracie were hungry so we took them to that great seafood place we’d found… Fat Tuna.

 

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We stuffed ourselves silly with hushpuppies, cornbread and shrimp and grits….

 

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While the husband opted for a seafood pasta.

 

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This was in anticipation of where we would be spending the afternoon and evening… because when you have a 7 year old? Sitting around chatting with a cocktail isn’t going to cut it.

So the husband and I did what we never… ever!… do.

We went to a theme park.

And it was just as awful as I knew it would be.

 

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We stood in a long line to board the shuttle.

 

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We crammed onto the shuttle like sardines.

 

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We waited on long lines to buy overpriced tickets…. and not even a funny spare tire cover could make up for what we were about to experience.

 

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(I hope he was talking about the jeep and not his wife.

I really do.)

But yes…. the husband and I shelled out $240 frickin’ dollars to visit Christmas Town at Busch Gardens.

 

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No senior discount, no military discount, no under 12 discount.

Suck it Santa!

Did I mention it was also $20 to leave our car in the north 40,  somewhere south of bumblef*ck Egypt   parking lot?

 

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$260 just to walk in.

Kill me now.

 

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But we were there with people we loved…

 

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And my husband… who never wants to pose for photographs?

 

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Was posing all over the place…. and smiling.

Now that’s a true Christmas miracle!

Cape Cod Day 4 … a special moment in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard

 

When we left Edgartown I saw a sign saying Menemsha, and something in the deep dark recesses of my brain sparked.

 

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To be honest, I didn’t even know why until I got there.

 

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The art wasn’t familiar.

 

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Neither were the warnings about jellyfish and nude bathing…. two things that should never be experienced together.

So while the husband made a new friend…

 

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I walked around wondering why this particular place had called to me.

 

 

Wind?

Just a wee bit…

 

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It was a lovely spot.

 

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And as I wandered…

 

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I realized what I was doing.

 

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I was walking in my late father’s footsteps.

 

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He was an artist….. and had painted this very spot.

 

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That’s why we were there.

 

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Because all my life….. I’d seen the word Menemsha on a few of his paintings and never knew what it meant.

 

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I lost my father when I was 15.

Much too young…

 

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We missed so many things.

 

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But for a moment, on this day….

 

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He walked with me.

 

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And my heart was full.

 

 

 

 

I’m in love…. with a moth.

 

I know, it’s a little odd.

But if he was visiting your flowers? You’d love him too.

 

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Meet Herman.

 

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My hummingbird moth.

 

 

 

He’s been visiting everyday and I’m smitten.

 

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Herman is special, and not often seen in these parts.

 

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I know our love is doomed.

Interspecies relationships rarely work out….

 

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But for now, I’ll enjoy every moment we share.

 

 

 

 

 

Anne Taintor still gets me…

 

It’s time for another peak into my absolute favorite desk calendar.

And all these months later?

She can still read my mind.

 

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I think that one is self explanatory.

 

 

If you’re not familiar with Anne, she takes those innocent snapshots of the perfect 1950’s housewives and gives them a little twist.

 

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If that isn’t incentive enough to fly…

I don’t know what is.

 

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Yes….

Blue things have occasionally been found growing in the back of my refrigerator.

And we’re not talking Jello.

 

 

While I have often expressed this next sentiment…

 

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If you look very closely…

Happy housewife on the right appears to have been holding something that was digitally removed…. and it seems to have been oblong.

Was it a Twinkie? A hot dog?

Or was this Lorena Bobbit’s  grandmother?

Tough call.

 

 

And finally…

This has always been my philosophy.

 

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Smiling.

It’s so over rated.

 

 

Woodstock revisited.

Peace, love…. and no thanks.

 

It’s been a long running joke in our marriage that my husband went to Woodstock ….

(Yes, the original. And yes, he’s that old)

Took a look around, and left.

 

 

Left!

Left the greatest live musical event in history!

 

 

 

I know, that was my reaction too.

The joke is,  had I known this disturbing piece of information before we got married… it would have been a deal breaker.

In August of 1969, when the counter culture was doing this?

 

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And listening to this?

 

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I was…

 

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Yeah. Walking the dog with some sassy red kicks.

Needless to say, I was too young to attend.

So years later, when I heard my beloved other half say Woodstock  “wasn’t his scene”, and that he had hitch hiked to New York that August, joined the throngs of hippies walking to the concert, “saw a bunch of half naked people dancing and smoking dope” and decided to leave?

 

 

A little piece of me died.

I would have killed to be there. Rain, mud et al.

In my  hippie days of the late 70’s, the closest I got was following the Dead around New England… or going to the Claremont Music Festival in New Hampshire. We camped out, we smoked weed, it rained… but it still wasn’t Woodstock.

And now, in August 2019 on the 50th anniversary? There’s another Woodstock brewing.

I was thrilled!

The husband even agreed to go!

 

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(Probably just to shut me up about the first one, but who cares!)

And then I saw the list of performers.

 

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And while a few of the original artists will be there…. Santana, Fogerty from CCR, Country Joe McDonald and David Crosby  (no, I’m not counting Dead and Company with John Mayer. Please! Without Jerry, they’re not the Dead)…. scanning the list made me want to cry.

Soccer Mommy? Pussy Riot? Amigo the Devil?

Damn. I must be old, because I don’t know half of these groups. And while I love the Black Keys, Dawes, The Lumineers, and a handful of others? My need for more classic rock, folk or blues from back in the day makes me think to hell with it. You can’t go home again.

And apparently you can’t go back to Max Yasgur’s farm either because the event is being held 150 miles away in Watkins Glen.

At the race track.

With a limited amount of tickets because they’re worried about traffic jams.

Traffic jams?

Good god.

There’s even an app.

 

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Peace, love and music?

I doubt it. The Millennials have taken over and it will probably be merchandised to within an inch of it’s life and have more to do with profit than peace and brotherhood.

Sigh…

Sorry husband. It looks like you’re still going to have to take my crap about leaving the first one.

And rightfully so.