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Just a few photos of His Lordship doing what His Lordship does best.
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In other words, nothing.
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He excels at this task. And as we all know, practice makes perfect.
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Though he has been known to hide from the paparazzi .
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Cat life.
It’s rough.
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In local news…
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Because it’s that time of year in Maine and we love our chickens.
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The very definition of cute.
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I’m a little disturbed at the “wet specimens” tag. Exactly how odd and unusual is this show?
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Clearly today’s men are not interested in their emotional intelligence.
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Now that’s an event worth attending.
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I used to have various pots of succulents scattered around the Barn Mahal/man cave. Mainly because no room I inhabit can be plantless but also due to their relatively carefree nature. Sadly I’m not out there as often as I used to be and though the husband still has friends in to play pool, he never thinks to water them… so with the heat pump sucking every drop of moisture out of the air all winter? A lot of them died.
After retrieving their carcasses, I did something I thought I’d never do.
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Yup.
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I bought a bunch of fakes.
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And I have to say, I’m rather impressed.
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While it goes against my gardening grain to resort to artificial, we have to close the blinds in the summer to avoid drying out and cracking the leather chairs as well as trying to prevent the a/c from running non stop so the real ones spent most of their time in the dark.
Enter the fake succulents.
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And though I really hate to admit it? Fake succulents don’t actually suck.
Who knew?
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I did manage to keep my jade plant alive and healthy so thankfully it’s not all plastic fantastic in there.
And speaking of dead things? I did a little recon in the beer fridge and found some dip that expired the beginning of March and creamer that died in January.
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Old junk isn’t the only thing my husband refuses to throw out.
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One of my favorite watering holes serves brunch on Sunday morning… which we’ve never tried because the husband has a standing date for pool in the man cave with a friend. But last weekend the friend couldn’t make it – so up to the The Blind Pig we went.
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And what better way to start brunch than with a flight of Mimosas?
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Since it was Maine Maple Sunday.. an annual celebration of tapping trees and sap houses… all the cocktails that day featured the sweet treat.
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Warning: Consumption of alcohol also impairs your ability to complete a sentence.
As you know my husband never liked the food at the Pig until a recent visit changed his mind. On this day the owners sat next to us at the bar and told us they’d just hired a new cook and had hopes for higher quality meals.
Ever the optimist and always searching for a good batch, I ordered their biscuits and gravy with home fries.
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While the sausage and gravy were alright, the biscuit was like a brick and the home fries were overcooked and greasy. ( Please note the mini strawberry rhubarb margarita. I received it free after telling the bartender the one I had on our last visit was too sweet. Free drinks? I love this place… even if the food is hit or miss)
I didn’t have a chance to photograph the husband’s meal because he sent it back too quickly. His eggs were cold, the dark toast he requested looked like it never saw heat and the homemade hash was a revolting mess of tough ham, hard sweet potato and some unidentified green. Disappointing to say the least.
Looks like it will be a while before I get him back there.
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Temperatures are rising, the snow has melted and we’re seeing a bit of green grass.
But the surest sign of spring at Casa River is this:
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Our first woodchuck sighting!
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We’ve had a momma raise her young under our barn for the past 6 years or so and always wonder if they’ll be back.
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Of course laying out some carrot slices helps.
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Welcome back spring!
😌
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It may be April, but in Maine that still means ice.
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These are photos of Sabattus Lake and the Cobbosseecontee Lakes…
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As you can see, some are still iced over.
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Spring may be here with daytime temps in the low 50’s….
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But with nights below 32, melting is a slow process.
🙂
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The only state that beats us is Alaska, but since I’m still experiencing the hot flashes from Hell? That’s fine by me.
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The photo in which Lord Dudley Mountcatten discovers the old woodchuck burrow.
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And naturally does a deep dive investigation.
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Me.
Because I realized I haven’t posted a selfie in a while and I have nothing better to share today.
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The husband and I headed up to the State House last week to see our governor proclaim an official day of remembrance for Vietnam Veterans.
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It was a beautiful spring day with temperatures in the high 40’s.
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The ceremony took place on the third floor, known as the Hall of Flags.
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Basically because that’s where they keep them in four giant cases in the corners of the room.
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Governor Janet Mills gave a lovely speech ending with the all important thank you… and welcome home.
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After the ceremony? The husband wanted a word and waited patiently.
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I missed that photo as I was blocked by other veterans. And since they served their country? I figured I shouldn’t push them out of the way just for blog fodder.
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It was a nice day, and healing for those who needed it.
If you see a Vietnam Vet?
Welcome them home. And say thank you. It’s never too late.
❤️
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Our snow is gone and we’re beginning to see some green grass.
We’re also seeing a nightly herd of 10 who never get together for a group portrait.
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Young, old and the same harem master buck.
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They’re all kicking up their heels because spring is out there… somewhere.
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❤️
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Next to one of my husband’s favorite summertime flea markets there was an old farmhouse.
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Which was turned into a family restaurant…
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Which went downhill over the years and became a rough and tumble biker bar called the Montsweag Roadhouse.
Now? It’s undergone another transformation and has become the Montsweag Farmhouse restaurant.
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Its a nice place to stop for a drink when you’re cruising up (or down as the case may be) Route 1.
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We’ve had quite a few meals here but never know what to expect. Sometimes it’s good, other times not. On this particular day I started with an interesting cocktail.
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The apple barn spritz.
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For lunch? An anemic Caesar salad for me and a horrible bowl of French Onion soup the husband ending up sending back.
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He switched to the mussels which he didn’t really enjoy either.
Bean sprouts on mussels? Just.. no.
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I moved on to a very tart cranberry margarita…
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And the vegetable risotto with sautéed garlic greens which was divine.
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Rich, creamy and very flavorful.
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The husband ended with a really nice blueberry crumble for dessert… and the fact that I tried to cut through the ramekin thinking it was a crust speaks to how potent my drinks were.
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In case you’re wondering where the word Montsweag originated.
It’s Maine. We have lots of Native American names.
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