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I’m not sure why…
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But momma woodchuck always looks pissed off.
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Is it because her children are always under foot?
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Or because the pesky human woman keeps spraying all the tasty munchies with coyote urine?
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Maybe it’s because her tatas are hanging so low they scrape the rock wall.
Tough call… but I’m going with gravity. That’s bound to make any woman cranky.
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It was a lovely drive along the coast…
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And though I would have loved to stop and snap some photos, the husband was hungry… so you’ll have to make do with a few quick shots from the car.
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Here’s the famous Cribstone Bridge.
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And as you’ve probably guessed, lobster reigns supreme.
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This was our destination, Cooks Lobster and Ale House.
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A local landmark built in 1955 on a long spit of land with panoramic water views. Popular with locals and tourists alike (although we locals don’t appreciate the tourist prices) it’s a no fuss, traditionally rustic waterfront restaurant.
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But what it lacks in decor? It makes up in scenic vistas. The view from our table was pretty sweet.
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The cocktails are potent.
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And two Cosmopolitans were all I could handle if I wanted to remain upright.
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Pardon the fuzzy pic, it was taken through a screen.
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The food is simple but delicious. Caesar salad (with the most amazing homemade herb butter croutons evah!) for me, a tasty French onion soup for my other half.
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Perfectly cooked lightly battered fried sea scallops for me….
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And lazy lobster for my rat bastard husband who ate it in front of me without feeling the least bit guilty. (I came up allergic 7 years ago and can no longer consume the delicious crustaceans without becoming seriously ill. 😩)
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Dessert? Of course it was blueberry pie. And as we waddled out to the car… we stopped for a moment to take in the beauty.
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And realized the husband might have backed up a bit too far upon arrival.
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Maine rocks. They’re unforgiving little devils.
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When it’s a beautiful summer evening in Maine? You head to the coast for dinner… and since we hadn’t been there in a few years, we drove to Cooks Lobster and Ale House.
In order to get to the Island where it’s located, you drive over the world famous Cribstone Bridge.
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Why do I say world famous? Because it’s literally the only one in the world.
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Built in 1927 of stacked granite blocks held together by gravity alone, the unique design allows high tides and rough seas to pass through freely.
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It’s a marvel of engineering and has had only minor repairs since it’s construction nearly a century ago.
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We tend to take it for granted in these parts but it’s actually a major tourist attraction.
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Of course the beautiful coast of Harpswell and Orrs Island don’t hurt either.
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Quintessential Maine fishing villages. Small, rugged and built to last.
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Onward to the restaurant… past stacks and stacks of lobster traps.
To be continued.
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One brave little chucker ventured out from under the barn to have a nosh with his mother.
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Okay, he stayed quite close to momma…
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But he’s still the only one we’ve seen out in the open.
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They’re silly critters at this age.
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And he was having a blast scampering all over the rock wall.
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There’s a big wide world out there to explore little guy….
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Enjoy!
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What’s happening here? We finally got some rain and….
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‘Shrooms.
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Giant ass ‘shrooms are happening here…
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Like this one the husband brought in the other day.
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Dead mice are also happening. And while part of me is sad it had to come to this…. the other part remembers having her car towed to the mechanic 3 times in one month because mice were nesting in the engine and chewing their way out. So dead mice? Yay.
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They make me smile.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten? He’d much rather I ditch the poison and let the live ones in the house.
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So you can understand what the natives are saying when you visit.
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When I first moved here I thought this was a ridiculous adjective. 43 years later? I still do.
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Never let a dubbah be responsible for the beer. No good can come from that.
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If you live in the back of beyond? Behind the puckerbrush, in bumblefuck Egypt? You live in the willywacks… and really can’t get there from heah.
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Read the following listing carefully.
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Possibilities of seasonal views. Which means – From your heavily wooded lot, in the dead of winter when all the trees are bare, if you stand on the edge of your bathroom sink and crane your neck to the north? You might see a tiny section of ice covered pond water.
Technically they’re not lying, but still.
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Lord Dudley Mountcatten loves his toys. He loves them so much he shreds an average of one a week.
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It’s a veritable catnip mouse slaughterhouse around here.
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That sums it up nicely.
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Do I need that?
Now that you mention it… I might.
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This sounds like the perfect summer cocktail.
Cheers!
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Ever since we painted the barn/man cave the perfect shade of red, I’ve been sputtering about recovering the porch furniture because now… it clashes.
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I recently bought some color coordinated fabric and found a local woman who’s going to do the job.
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Me… sew? Yeah, that’s not happening. So while I was waiting for the seamstress to tell me she was done with prom and wedding dress alterations, I saw this:
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WTH?
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The edges of all the cushions had been shredded!
I ranted, I blamed woodchucks. I cursed, I blamed mice. I sputtered, I blamed chipmunks. But guess what?
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The real culprit..
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Was a bird looking for nesting material.
Mother Nature. She has all manner of ways to drive you crazy.
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If you’ve ever visited my state and had a conversation with the locals, you might have been baffled by some of our regional expressions. You had no idea what the hell we were talking about? No worries… I’m here to help.
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We say this a lot. (But please ignore the ‘how’. It should be now.)
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Hint – “The County” is usually uttered with derision in southern Maine. Aroostook is potato country, way up by the Canadian border…. we have to pump sunlight to those people.
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This a is a very popular word in my neck of the woods. It affirms a position as well as cutting off the need for further discussion. Mainers can be a taciturn bunch.
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Personally, I don’t use this term. The word tourist and it’s synonyms… snowbirds, outta staters, Massholes ( specific to people from the Boston area ) are much more common. But these people do swarm our best areas from June to September and are extremely easy to spot.
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Like this couple we saw the other day.
Mainers. Do. Not. Wear. Bibs. When. Eating. Lobster.
Ever.
🤣
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Baby woodchucks are on the move.
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I spotted three.
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Make that four.
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And they’re cute as a button.
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I’m not sure if they’re actually living under the barn this year, or momma just brings them in for a nosh now and then.
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But I enjoy watching the little devils munch either way.
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River's world..... 