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The time of year Mainers go absolutely bat shit crazy over a tiny unfurled fern frond.
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The season is short and anxiously awaited. Foraging sites are secret and passed down from one generation to another.
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Cleaning methods are also hotly debated.
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Personally? I can’t stand the slimy little things… I don’t care how you cook them, they taste like swamp. But that’s okay, it just means there are more for you.
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For the first time since we moved here 20 years ago, we had bluebirds!
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They’re such bright, pretty little guys I had to run out and buy a few bags of mealworms to make them feel at home.
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They enjoy suet as well….
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Though you wouldn’t know it by their expressions.
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Is it me?
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Or do these guys just look seriously pissed off?
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Just some random photos I cleared off my camera the other day.
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This was the last sighting of our blue eyed fawn from last year.
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Photos were taken in January and though we’ve seen some full grown deer this month, it’s hard to tell if he’s among them.
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Can you see the visitor in this pic?
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It’s a Red Tail Hawk who uses our backyard as his hunting ground.
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Close proximity to the bird feeders makes for some tasty dove nuggets.
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He’s a young hawk and is still mastering his technique.
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While it’s hard to see piles of feathers litter the ground, these birds of prey really are fabulous creatures. And if he swoops down and claims a certain red rodent….. I can’t say I’ll be heartbroken.
😈
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The husband came home with yet another one of those free newspapers he picks up at the store every time he sees them. He really can’t help himself. But instead of the usual meaningless drivel, this publication had a few interesting factoids.
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A 15 inch flake? That’s almost as wide as Paris Hilton.
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We have Winnie to thank for OMG? Who knew.
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Well, alright then.
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I have no explanation for that whatsoever.
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And now my mind is truly blown.
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While at our local pub last week, a patron who was sitting on the other side of the bar bravely ordered this:
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Yes, you read that correctly. The beer was brewed with gummy bears. Why such an atrocity should take place I don’t know… but he laughed and gagged and promptly pushed the can back at the bartender who attempted to throw it away. I say attempted because you know my husband wasn’t going to let that happen.
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Yes, the beer was pink.
Yes, it tasted as horrible as you would imagine pink gummy bear beer would taste.
But you know what? The husband drank it anyway… because free beer is free beer.
🥴
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The husband’s brother and nephew stopped by yesterday to check out the man cave. (They hadn’t been in the barn in years and were suitably impressed.) Of course we heard them coming from half a mile away because they drove in with the nephew’s new toy.
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His favorite past time is buying and restoring old cars and this one is looking pretty good so far.
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Although I can’t say the same for the nephew. Pre Covid pandemic? He looked like this…
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Now?
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He’s sporting a Grizzly Adams type beard. But he brought us a jar of homemade maple syrup….
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So I guess I can overlook a little ( lot! ) of facial hair.
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He and his family do it the old fashioned way, tapping 32 trees with metal buckets.
He even built an honest to God sap house.
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Where he boils. And boils. And boils…
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In case you’re wondering, it takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup. No wonder it’s so bloody expensive. ( Good stuff can go for $100 a gallon )
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In the continuing series Small Town Life Be Different…. here are the latest missives from mine.
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This was so sweet. Our local UPS man… who distributes doggie treats on his route… is in the hospital with pneumonia, so all his four legged customers posted pictures.
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Because traffic alerts in the country are less about speeding and more about manure.
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Every year the women of the Historical Society sew a quilt with local scenes to be auctioned off.
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The Town Office bought the first one where it still hangs proudly.
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Yes, I showed this to the husband. And no, he hasn’t removed his absolutely no chickens ban.
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Yikes. Critters that crawl under your house and die are the worst. But I can’t say I’ve ever known one to stink of garlic. And speaking of stinking…
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Word to the wise… if you think it’s your year? It most definitely is. 🤢
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As he predicted, this man’s post got a whole lotta hate. He’s new to the area… and I’m guessing he isn’t going to be very popular. Buying a house in a rural part of Maine means generations of the previous owners might still be inhabiting your back 40. A man up the road from us has a cemetery from the late 1700’s on his land. He doesn’t know the family or their descendants, but lovingly cares for the plot all the same. It’s called respect.
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Now, now… don’t get excited. I live in Maine, I’m talking lobster.
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There was a state wide contest and even our local pub co owner joined in.
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Ooh… a blue!
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If you’ve never done it, or even thought about it? Trust me, lobstering is hard work.
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You battle the weather, the equipment and the ocean. Fisherman die or are lost at sea every year. I’ve personally known two.
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And yes..
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Lobsters really are this small in the beginning.
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Cuddly? Not so much.
But damn, they sure are tasty.
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Yes, we Mainers are an interesting and sometimes inventive breed.
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My mother used to say, “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”. Or in this case, a leaf blower powered hoverboard.
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Ayup.
Maine winters are long, you might as well have a hobby.
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Our town has come up with some marvelously creative ways to keep kids active and engaged during the Covid months. This is the latest.
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Businesses and public areas are all displaying clues.
In other news, people are offering free treasures.
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Dirty, smoke stained old cups from a discontinued set? Christ, don’t tell my husband.. he’d be on them like white on rice.
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An icicle contest. Most excellent!
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Our big one had grown to 5 feet so I proudly entered it to take the lead…..
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Until Robert showed up.
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Damn you Robert. You and your massive projectile.
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River's world..... 