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The woodchucks have left the building.
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After momma chuck and her spring brood of voracious garden nibblers cut a swath of destruction through my flower gardens this spring….
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And fattened up quickly at our all you can eat buffet this summer….
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They have now moved on to where ever the hell it is woodchucks go in the fall.
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And all I’m left with is empty flower pots and leftover photos to sort through.
😊
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Early autumn.
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The leaves are just starting to turn in our area and I’m always spell bound by the colors.
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So I drive one handed, snapping pictures.
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I know I shouldn’t..
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But when Mother Nature puts on a show… attention must be paid.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten has notched another kill in his proverbial belt.
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On a stroll past the woodshed this morning, he darted inside and came up with a squeaker.
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But again, after catching it?
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He looked a little perplexed about what to do with it.
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It’s hard to watch him toying with it, but before long?
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Another carcass.
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Autumn is here and it’s by far my favorite time of year. Crisp air, brightly colored foliage, pumpkins, apples… what’s not to love?
Of course if you’re my husband, who just spent countless thousands turning his barn into a man cave, you might not fully embrace the season.
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Because nothing says ‘private domain of men’ more than a strategically placed fall wreath.
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And speaking of turning leaves….
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Ours are just beginning to put on a show. It’s the season I starting twitching for a road trip to the mountains. Whether that will happen is still up for debate.
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Weren’t expecting that?
Neither was I, but it popped up on my FB feed all the same.
🥴
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A photo of Lord Dudley Mountcatten meeting my new toy. He was not impressed, but I am.
Since blowing out my knee last year, getting on all fours to scrub the kitchen floor has been a no no. Enter the Bissell steam mop. Cheap and surprisingly efficient.
How well did it clean the floor?
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So well that I literally gasped at how filthy it had become.
In my defense, I mopped right after a rain storm and had to erase an artful array of the husband’s muddy boot prints, but still.
😬
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Christina’s World is one of Andrew Wyeth’s most famous paintings.
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So surely I can’t be the only one who sees the similarities here….
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Let’s examine the Museum of Modern Art’s description. I’ve circled the pertinent parts for comparison.
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Am I right, or am I right?
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And while Lord Dudley doesn’t have polio like poor Christina, he does share her propensity for crawling…. so I’m calling it.
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Our town often posts announcements of items people are giving away for free. Some of them are lovely and thoughtful…
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And some of them make me scratch my head.
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This saw needs a motor, belt and blade.
Good grief, what else is there….?
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Most of the time my Facebook ads get it wrong.
I don’t need ball wash soap or help with a bigger orgasm. I also don’t need ball hammock underwear, yet the hits just keep on coming. The latest is Halloween themed… and so very, very wrong.
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Do I need to see Frankenstein gettin’ his freak on? I most certainly do not.
But every once in a while, the algorithm hits a bit closer to the mark.
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And horrible grammatical translation aside, at least this one includes alcohol….with undertones of barn bar which we all know is near and dear to my heart.
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I went outside Saturday morning and found my husband had started putting sealant on the barn porch.
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I used to do this every 2-3 years but since blowing out my knee last fall, the job fell to him this time.
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He enlisted a friend to help and they were hard at it all morning.
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I made them a nice lasagna lunch, cleaned up the kitchen and went out later in the afternoon to check the progress.
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Things were rolling along fine until the end.
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When my husbands superior planning skills were fully evident.
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🤣
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We enjoy our nightly skunk visitors, occasional air pollution aside. They’re comical to watch but their presence often involves residual piles of poo. That normally isn’t an issue, but this morning’s deposit has definitely crossed the line.
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What up skunk!
Three acres of grass, fields and woods and you have to void your bowels on our kitchen landing?
Not cool skunk, most assuredly not cool.
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Well that’s a unique wine review.
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And apparently not well received.
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Have you ever wondered what your cat is really thinking? Judging from this picture of Lord Dudley Mountcatten, I’ve done something unforgivable.
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Damn it, now I can’t either.
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Yes, it finally happened.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten…. walked. In the harness. On the leash. Of his own accord.
Be still my heart.
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After weeks of useless excursions when all he did was glance at me in disdain…. the other day he suited up and hit the door running.
Well, strolling is more accurate but I’ll take it. No fuss, no fight. He walked across the lawn, around the barn and woodshed, climbed the front stone wall, got tangled up in the bird bath and even lead me over to the apple trees.
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Which he found quite fascinating.
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I was happy to let him sit in the crook of the tree sniffing and scratching the bark, but then before I could react….
Bam!
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The little devil was scrambling up the tree with me still holding the leash. He wouldn’t come down, so I had to go up, and it wasn’t pretty.
Ever try to wrangle a leashed and harnessed cat out of a tree? It’s not a smooth process and I don’t recommend it.
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Upon retrieval, his Lordship was exhausted and happily plopped in the shade. I, on the other hand, examined my scratched arms, broken nail and twig infested hair.
And if that wasn’t bad enough? This morning I woke up with a wicked brown tail moth rash on my neck.
Needless to say we will be giving the apple trees a wide berth from now on.
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River's world..... 