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A friend of my husband’s dropped by the man cave last week to say hello, though I think the actual reason for the visit had 4 wheels.
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Behold his new toy, a 1970 something Le Mans Sport convertible.
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This car is cherry. 27,000 original miles and spotless.
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After we oohed and ahhed appropriately there was beer.
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And pool.
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And after a nice visit…
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A shit eating grin of a man who always wanted an antique auto and is quite pleased with his purchase.
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I admit we’ve driven by this place a time or two.
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Without realizing it was a Maine landmark.
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You can’t beat that for one stop shopping.
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Wedding gowns next to the camouflage?
I suppose I should be glad the wedding gowns aren’t made from camo.
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That’s one happy customer.
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I’ve always been attracted to steampunk. Equal parts creativity and recycling, you never know what kind of design you’ll find. And then there’s the sheer weirdo factor. Who doesn’t love that?
So when Facebook popped up with some Etsy suggestions I was intrigued.
Until I saw the prices.
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Damn.
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Punk be pricey.
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And Lord knows I love a good ray gun as well as the next girl…
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But I could hear my checkbook screaming no! from across the room.
Or maybe that was my husband.
Tough call.
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They also can’t spell possibilities correctly, but you get the idea.
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I think we’ve previously established I love the newly discovered Blind Pig.
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Their cocktail list can not be beat and I’m trying my damnedest to work my way through it before the fall rewrite.
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Pear mojito? Sorry… I drank it too quickly to get a photo.
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Candy apple margarita? Yes please.
But then it happened.
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My spinach artichoke dip? Dry and tasteless.
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The husband’s riblet appetizer? Tough, fatty and bland.
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Even the comical shirt worn by this waitress couldn’t take the sting out of bad food.
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My lemon pepper baked haddock was nice, though the addition of squash chunks in the risotto left a lot to be desired.
But my husband has never been thrilled with this establishment’s menu, and I fear the era of his making do because I love the cocktails has reached its conclusion .
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This tomato bisque was the last straw. It had smokey bacon and some weird spice mixture that totally turned my other half off. I knew it was coming, but when he said he wasn’t in any hurry to return?
Oh! The horror!
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I slowly savored one last blackberry bramble and silently prayed I could change his mind.
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Some things naturally go together. Cookies and milk? Of course. Macaroni and cheese? You know it. Gin and tonic? I’ll bring the limes, cheers!
But fast food and shoes?
No.
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Clearly Madison Avenue was on a 6 martini lunch that day.
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And if that’s not stupid enough?
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Crocs – Ugliest. Shoe. Ever.
And I live in Maine, home of the L.L. Bean boot.
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KFC Crocs?
For the love of God, why.
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I haven’t seen our nemesis …Momma red squirrel… for a few weeks now. This always makes me nervous, because when she disappears? I know she’s laying low, gathering her forces and plotting her next home invasion.
But after seeing this?
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Maybe I need to rethink my strategy.
🤣
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Not everyone will be able to participate in this game, but you can always stick around to read the comments.
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1976 Plymouth Fury. She wasn’t pretty…
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But she was a behemoth with a powerful V-8.
I was 16, dating a much older man who drove me and my girlfriends around whenever we wanted to drink and get loud. Looking back, it wasn’t exactly kosher…. but not much of my teenage years was.
We had the radio cranked up, flying down some long deserted country road we’d never travelled before. My guy was driving dangerously fast, not that we realized it at the time… and then poof. The road disappeared from under us as we crested a hill we didn’t know was there.
Airborne? You betcha. We landed with a thud, broke the frame of the car and were damned lucky we lived to tell the tale.
I saw the speedometer reach 115+ … so I’m counting it.
How about you?
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On our drive home from the mountains the other day, I got lucky.
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I finally found a man cave appropriate crate for my albums! No, I’d never heard of Holihan Brewers but neither did I care.
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They existed.
They brewed beer in Massachusetts.
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And that was good enough for me.
Okay, the crate wasn’t in the best of shape….
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But after a lot of elbow grease, scrubbing and oiling…
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It didn’t look half bad.
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And then there were three.
I’ll need at least 3 (probably 4, possibly 5) more.
I wonder if I’ll live that long?
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After our Fryeburg flea market bust and our Ebenezer’s success we decided to take the long scenic route home and cut through part of the White Mountains.
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It’s always a beautiful ride.
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Rolling hills and valleys and farms.
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And unlike our neck of the woods, very green.
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Even the corn looked happy.
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Through the woods, over the mountain, where the pictures stopped because my phone battery promptly died.
🥴
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Yes, the beer and atmosphere at Ebenezer’s were fun… as witnessed by this quirky piece of art hanging over our table.
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But clearly that poor creature never sampled the menu. No one could go away hungry here.
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Second green Belgian beer on board, we ordered appetizers .
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I didn’t go with the real R.I. shit, but the coconut shrimp were divine.
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The husband’s usual French onion soup was anything but with a plethora of cheesy bread and rich deep broth.
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Second beer gone, I switched over to a frozen strawberry margarita bursting with fresh fruit.
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And eyed the probably quite appropriate ladies room sign.
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Our meal? It was spectacular.
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Two perfectly cooked juicy herb marinated chicken breasts with roasted vegetables made my mouth sing. And the small bowl on the top left? Not a roll, but a potato croquette with gravy. Weird, but delightful.
The large salad came with my husband’s choice…
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Pan seared scallops and lobster over sherried buttered cream corn. In a word? Fabulous.
No, you don’t want to know what the bill totaled. Suffice it to say my wallet screamed… and as much as I loved our experience, I have to admit it’s a good thing we don’t live closer. Temptation could bankrupt us quickly.
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River's world..... 