Tag Archives: maine

I love my town.

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Headline news is a little different in my small Maine town.

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Record breaking pepper? Someone call CNN!

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While I do have experience in caretaking bossy, moody diva cats and I seriously love me some chickens… fish? They’re just too needy.

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Momma Mia! That is one huge wasp domicile.

And finally, I saved the best for last.

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I’m crossing my fingers and toes this idea becomes a reality… and shall donate accordingly.

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Random crap.

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I was giving myself a pedicure the other day and Lord Dudley Mountcatten was fascinated.

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He did not however like my tools.

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When I got tired of picking it up off the floor? I quit.

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The next time I get a boo boo? I totally want to cover it with a bacon bandage.

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How hot has it been in Maine?

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Hot enough that even the turkeys are seeking shade.

And speaking of hot….

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Damn.

Now that’s hot.

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Strange things seen whilst shopping.

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I spent a long over due retail therapy day with my girlfriend recently. Of all the things I’ve missed over the past year, that ranks pretty high on the list. One of our stops was Goodwill, where I saw this:

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Here’s hoping they hire someone who knows how to spell this time.

Further down the road, I saw this oddly named store.

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And something tells me they’re not talking about the corned beef variety.

At TJMaxx I found this disturbing product.

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No need to wash that blouse you’ve worn 27 times. Just give it a little spritz and be on your malodorous way.

🤢

Halfway through our shopping extravaganza… it was time for lunch. This is normally not a problem since South Portland has a plethora of restaurants. But since no one wants to go back to work, every single place we tried was understaffed and had an hour long wait. With a groan of desperation, we ended up at Red Robin where I spotted a most unappetizing burger on the menu.

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#1. Putting a burger between two pieces of greenery does not magically transform lettuce into a bun. Just, no.

And more importantly –

#2. Do not name your abomination of a burger ‘The Wedgie’. Creeping underwear issues do not make my mouth water.

(And if they make you salivate? Please exit my blog and don’t come back.)

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If ya can’t beat ’em….

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And it’s clear from the hundreds of dollars I’ve spent on deterrents… I can’t.

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Yeah, I gave you a chance…. and they ate right through you.

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You might as well join them.

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Or rather feed them your fruit and salad scraps in the hopes they’ll leave your flowers alone.

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Watermelon was a huge hit. They positively inhaled that.

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But honestly, would it kill them to wipe off the scowl off their faces and maybe shoot me a grin now and then? I think it’s the least they could do.

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Random drivel.

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I don’t usually pay attention to the Facebook memories section, but this one from an old blog friend popped up the other day and I had to laugh.

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It really does.

🤣

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That sounds simple and delicious.

If you try it before me? Let me know.

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And for Brian at http://brianlageose.blog

Because we were chatting a while back about the ridiculous old station wagons we had to drive as teenagers. Here’s my husband and I posing in front of my parent’s ‘62 Ford Falcon.

Complete with wood on the side… because we stylin’.

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If you look closely you’ll see the entire passenger side is crumpled from me side swiping a telephone pole when I was 16.

Oops.

This baby had a top speed of 51mph by the time I got her…. complete with vacuum wipers, a manual choke, and AM radio. I was the envy of exactly (count ‘em) none of my friends.

Please don’t judge the head to toe stone washed denim… it was the late 80’s. We had to.

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Finally, here’s Lord Dudley…

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In typical goober mode.

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He should, but thank God he can’t.

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I love my town.

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Cruising my small town’s Facebook page today, I discovered an invitation.

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I wonder if adults are allowed?

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I do love a good goat encounter.

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We’ve had a lot of mushrooms lately, but never one with dead tribble hair.

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Teachers. They educate our children and at times, take on the role of surrogate parents.

Scooping poop should not be part of their job description.

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Rubber ducky….

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In life, mysteries abound.

And in my state? Sometimes they’re a little odd.

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The duck, as you may have heard, stands some 25 feet tall. It floats in the harbor off of Belfast, a tiny city midway up the Maine coast and south of Bangor, having apparently appeared bobbing in the water there under cover of darkness. As if to overemphasize the message of happy playfulness its creator clearly aims to project, it has the word “JOY” written in big block letters across its big yellow chest. Ropes attached to weights appear to be keeping it anchored in place, as gawkers in boats and along the shore stare at it in wonder. No one knows who put it there, and the mystery surrounding its sudden unannounced arrival has quickly been noticed by news outlets across the country.

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The yellow waterfowl emblazoned with the word “joy” appeared in Belfast Harbor over the weekend, and it’s a mystery who put it there.

Harbor Master Katherine Given told the Bangor Daily News that the 25-foot-tall duck doesn’t pose a navigational hazard, so there’s no rush to shoo it away. She added she heard rumors the duck floated from the town of Islesboro, south of Belfast.

“Everybody loves it,” Given said. “I have no idea who owns it, but it kind of fits Belfast. A lot of people want to keep it here.”

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I tried to get my husband to take a ride up there. But driving an hour and a half to take pictures of a giant rubber ducky was not high on his list of required weekend activities.

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But damn.

Talk about a missed opportunity.

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