Tag Archives: marriage

Colonial Williamsburg…. where River visits the insane asylum and is lucky to get out alive.

March 9, 2020 Rivergirl 17 Comments

On my list of must see places was the Abby Aldrich Rockefeller Folk Art Museum. She was an early collector of the form and I’d heard tell the place was filled to the brim with treasures.

What I didn’t know was the building’s original use.

Half museum, half insane asylum.

Color me intrigued.

Well, that doesn’t look at all comfortable.

But at least there’s a cushion.

*gulp*

This certainly gives new meaning to the term “time out”.

While revolting….

I have to say the peek into early treatment of mental illness was fascinating.

Yikes.

Seems like there was a whole lot of restraint … and not much actual treatment.

It was about this time the husband told me he read about men committing their misbehaving wives for little more than disagreeing with their authority.

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Uh oh.

Early shock therapy looked rather primitive.

Am I the only one who’s reading “restored” as irreparably brain damaged?

One can only imagine the horrors those poor people suffered at the hands of their supposed healers.

Though they did have some pretty snazzy syringes.

On a lighter note, the husband was tickled to see one of these on display.

He bought a whole box of these slides at a yard sale years ago. They’re pretty valuable as a few of them show pre Civil War life with slaves… but he’s never found the actual lantern for sale.

If you ever see one? Let me know….

It would make a great birthday gift and rise above his usual level of rusty crap.

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A little drip now and then….

March 4, 2020 Rivergirl 21 Comments

Leaking roof saga continued.

Winter is the worst possible time in Maine for your roof to spring a leak … so of course, that’s exactly what’s happened.

Remember when I said I’d cringe every time it rains?

That’s the sound of me cringing.

It poured the other day… and so did our ceiling.

So much so I had to add another pan.

Which drove the husband nuts when he came home…. and because he’s a man and had to do something?

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Yeah. He decided to climb up into the attic to see where it was leaking.

Naturally this isn’t as easy as climbing a set of stairs… because no.

Here at Casa River, we like a challenge.

The den closet, home to an overflow of the husband’s ~~useless crap~~ treasure.

(Yes, he collects old wooden hangers. Don’t you?)

Half of one side had to be emptied and strewn all over the room….

Because the only way to access the crawl space we call an attic is to remove all the shelving and climb up a hole at the top of the closet.

A design paradigm we curse the builders for quite often.

It’s a bit of a nightmare getting up there.

And no, the husband didn’t appreciate me making a Kodak moment out of the experience.

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He wasn’t thrilled that I stuck my head up through the hole to offer advice either.

Men. There’s no pleasing you.

But look… I found an antenna from the 1970’s!

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Did I mention there’s no actual floor up there? Just a few scattered pieces of particle board that break when you kneel on them.

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So after scuttling around like a crab and lying on his back…

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And pointing his flashlight near the section of the roof of the addition you can’t access from the crawl space, he did find where the water was coming in. Halfway up the peak, and running down the beams…. which we can find absolutely no reason for.

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Doesn’t this look like fun?

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Especially since there’s not a damned thing you can do about it until spring when you can rip off the shingles to find the bad spot.

Meanwhile I’ll have this lovely and ever expanding wart to look at.

And every time I do?

I hear a cash register.

Ka-ching!

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And speaking of ice….

March 1, 2020 Rivergirl 19 Comments

Oh, we weren’t talking about ice? Well, I am now.

We had ice this year.

Lots and lots of ice.

The shovel the snow off the driveway, watch your feet slide out from under you and land smack on your ass kind of ice.

Everything was covered in sheets of ice for weeks on end.

Of course this made for some pretty fabulous icicles.

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On the garage, they started out small.

But then they grew.

Which made getting in and out of the garage rather perilous.

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Did I mention this was the section of the garage I was nagging the husband to put a new gutter on all last summer and fall?

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Maybe now he knows why.

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Jennette’s Pier Part 2…. and some fish whispering.

February 12, 2020 Rivergirl 25 Comments

By the time we reached the end of the pier and turned around? We were walking icicles from the frigid wind…

And I think the husband was starting to rethink this whole marriage thing.

I kept telling him it was a beautiful, brisk, clear day….

And he kept stifling his impulse to heave me over the side.

Yes, like that.

Heading back to the building we followed red memorial fish…

Agreed wholeheartedly with a turtle….

And discovered there was a miniature aquarium inside.

Fish are wonderful.

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And sometimes wonderfully strange.

I always wonder what the heck they’re thinking.

Here’s my husband, the Fish Whisperer, having a moment.

It’s odd. He sidles up next to a tank and they flock to him….

Which allows me to get some fun shots.

Is it me…

Or is that an awfully small head for such a large body?

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Interspecies communing over, I thought about trying to get the husband to walk the beach with me…

But I was envisioning another wife with a bad idea buried under that mound of sand and called it good.

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Colonial Williamsburg…. the Apothecary Shop, the Capitol and the Gaol.

February 1, 2020 Rivergirl 16 Comments

Still strolling Duke of Gloucester Street, we found the apothecary shop and it’s mistress in the middle of recounting some 18th century cures.

Trust me when I say you should be glad you weren’t sick in the 18th century.

Many towns and villages didn’t have doctors and these pseudo pharmacists were as close to modern medicine as many people could get.

There were some interesting drawings….

And a back room were the cures were administered. Though why that fellow in the corner needs a hat, I’m sure I don’t know…

Next up was the reconstructed Capitol building.

The birthplace of American government if you will.

The flag flying at the entrance meant it was open for tours…

So we settled in to wait for the guide.

With the husband admiring the rather odd gutterless drainage system.

Which was really more of a moat.

If you’re interested, the history of the Capitol is here. I’ll spare you the retelling and just post a few interior shots.

Local representatives met here, first to report to the crown….and then to form a new government.

The speaker had a throne… make of that what you will.

Here are the rooms our founding fathers formed the basis of the country we know today.

One can only imagine how they’d react to our current state of affairs.

I’d say that’s pretty close.

There was also a court where grievances and victims of crimes were given justice.

To me, the nicest part of the tour was when our guide proudly told us that he had helped officiate over the swearing in of 250 new American citizens on that day…. a 300 year old tradition lovingly continued on site.

Leaving the Capitol, we found the gaol, pronounced jail.

Which didn’t look too bad at first.

Until I realized that wasn’t the gaol.

The history of the gaol is here.

Many men and women were held here awaiting trial, and it doesn’t look like that would have been too comfortable.

The cells reminded me of horse stables.

And yes…

That is what you think it is.

Minus Mr. Whipple and his Charmin.

(We’ll visit the Public Hospital… read, lunatic asylum... another day)

The sound of that large door slamming shut?

Perfectly eerie.

The administration office was much nicer.

And it’s natural wreaths, nicer still.

All it needed was…

The clip clop of the carriage horses hooves to remind me how we could have been traveling.

Bad husband.

Bad.

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Cape Cod Day 8…. turkeys, traffic and booze. The way most of our vacations end.

January 20, 2020 Rivergirl 16 Comments

Day 8 dawned bright and sunny and it was time to pack up and head for home. Of course packing means different things to men and women. It takes me considerable time…. seeing that I actually unpack my suitcases and put things away.

Remember? Me unpacked…

Husband’s idea of unpacked…

Men.

You really are a separate species.

The local turkey brigade came to wish us farewell.

And soon we were crossing the famous Sagamore Bridge and leaving Cape Cod.

It was a wonderful trip, and we enjoyed every minute of it. So much to see and do…. I’m sure we’ll go back someday.

Next step?

Boston.

And it’s horrible, absolutely inescapable, bumper to bumper traffic. If you can avoid it?

By all means, do so.

Cruising into New Hampshire on I-95 means one thing. The New Hampshire State Liquor store…. no tax!

If we drive to our vacation? We stop here on the way back…. you almost have to. It’s like a rite of passage for New Englanders.

Snow.

Lobster.

And tax free booze.

What’s not to love?

My haul this time included a few Game of Thrones inspired Johnnie Walker Christmas presents.

Ho, Ho, Ho!

And here’s a bone I’ll throw to all my food lovers.

Lunch.

At a riverside restaurant.

With an amazing beer selection.

And a list that went on and on and on…

To heck with the food…

I could just happily sit there and drink all day.

But yes, food.

Homemade chicken tenders and side salad for the husband.

And a massive portion of Truffle fries to accompany my chicken Caesar salad wrap.

So there you have it, the November Cape Cod trip.

The end.

Finito.

Done!

While I realize it took me until January 20th to finish this series, as I sit here typing this… I still have over 2 weeks worth of Williamsburg, Virginia Christmas vacation photos to sort through and post. So don’t be surprised if you’re seeing Santa and his reindeer right through April….

You’ve been warned.

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Cape Cod trip, Day 1. Boston traffic, the resort and yes, food. (for those of you who keep screaming for food pics)

December 20, 2019 Rivergirl 36 Comments

No trip south of Maine can escape Boston traffic… and in a word?

Okay, technically that’s 2 words.

But it still sucks.

The Tobin Bridge is attractive…

But directly after that is the Callahan Tunnel, which is not.

Of course my aversion to it may have something to do with the fact that we’re always bumper to bumper in the dark and instead of the posted 40 mph speed limit? The husband is flying through at 80 while darting in and out of traffic trying to get 3 inches ahead of the next car. Driving is a competition dontcha know…

Blah, blah, blah.

Safe trip…. hello Cape Cod!

We stayed at the Sea Mist Resort in Mashpee, Massachusetts which is considered the Upper Cape.

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And it was a good base from which we could explore.

Quiet, wooded and off season? It was practically deserted, which is how we like it.

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We had a one bedroom townhouse with two bathrooms and a cathedral ceiling.

A nice full kitchen with granite countertops and wood floors.

It was clean, and spacious…

Although when it came to the living room furniture and color scheme?

Yes, it was bland.

But hell… clean, quiet and spacious trumps ugly any day.

Did I mention there were 2 full bathrooms? That’s unusual in a one bedroom timeshare condo and I took full advantage…. giving the husband this smaller one.

It was a little odd having a window in the bedroom that looked out on the living room….

But it made for a nice little reading nook when the husband was knee deep in MSNBC every night.

The bedroom was a good size with a super comfortable, although not king sized, bed.

It also had a full length mirror which earns it an extra star in my book as none of them ever do.

After unpacking, (which looks like this for me…

And this for him…

(Men. How is it possible we’re the same species?) We headed out for a late lunch/early dinner.

Mashpee Commons was nearby and one of the largest shopping centers on the Cape. While attractive and filled with interesting stores and restaurants, it was also a nightmare when it came to parking. We circled and circled… and circled some more until we squeezed into a tiny spot. Christ! It was the dead season of November, I can’t imagine what it would be like in the summer.

We landed at Bobby Byrne’s pub…

Where I got in the Cape Cod spirit with a cranberry and grapefruit cocktail. (Or two)

When you’re in the Cape, it’s all about the cranberry.

I wanted the huge gigantic pretzel, because seriously… it was huge.

But went with the grilled chicken quesadillas and sriracha crema instead.

Damn! They were good.

Husband had his usual French Onion soup which I swear… contained at least a pound of cheese.

Then we shared a chicken broccoli alfredo.

Which was delightfully rich and garlicky.

Did I mention the beer was extremely cold?

Literally, ice cold.

(Are you food picture screamers satisfied? Day 1 and you got multiple food photos. You’re welcome… now be quiet.)

Bellies full, we grocery shopped to stock the kitchen…. and then called it a night.

One more picture…

Because skylights in the living room require an after dark selfie….

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Diana’s Baths Part 4…. in which the husband builds a cairn.

December 9, 2019 Rivergirl 24 Comments

At the top of Diana’s Baths we found a cairn garden.

Cairns…

Everywhere you looked.

Small cairns, big cairns.

Precariously balanced cairns…

Even one slightly Zen cairn…

Although technically not, as it’s singular.

But I liked it all the same.

Cairn:

A cairn is a man-made pile (or stack) of stones. The word cairn comes from the Scottish Gaelic: càrn[ˈkʰaːrˠn̪ˠ] (plural càirn[ˈkʰaːrˠɲ]).^[1]

Cairns have been and are used for a broad variety of purposes, from prehistoric times to the present.

In modern times, cairns are often erected as landmarks, a use they have had since ancient times. However, since prehistory, they have also been built and used as burial monuments; for defense and hunting; for ceremonial purposes, sometimes relating to astronomy; to locate buried items, such as caches of food or objects; and to mark trails, among other purposes.

Of course you know as soon as the husband saw all these constructs…

He was going to have to build one of his own.

And it was going to have to be made with boulders.

Oh… the effort and planning that went into this.

Meticulously searching the shore for the perfect shaped rocks.

The rearranging… the balancing.

Men.

Don’t let them tell you size doesn’t matter.

His cairn.

His very large cairn.

He particularly liked the way the bottom stone looked from this angle.

For his sake, I’m hoping the first high wind doesn’t knock it over.

FYI…. there are no cairn memes that don’t involve cute little dogs.

And when I searched Giphy for “stone cairn” ?

Epic fail.

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Diana’s Baths Part 2.

December 5, 2019 Rivergirl 34 Comments

What?

You thought we were done with the rocks?

Uh, no.

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There were stacked rocks…

Rocks with roots…

Rocks with husbands…

Videos of rocks…

And rocks with bloggers taking selfies.

Baby got rocks!

There were big rocks.

Rocks with water.

And rocks with husbands who had to climb on the opposite side from their wives because they thought it was a better path….

Then couldn’t figure out how to get back across…

And had to turn around and go back the way the wife did.

I love those kinds of rocks.

And no matter how high we climbed?

There were always more rocks!

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Because I’m always looking out for my male friends.

December 1, 2019 Rivergirl 40 Comments

So a certain blogger (who shall remain nameless unless he/she actually wants to take credit for this post) sent me a link to a product that I found the day after Thanksgiving.

Having just enjoyed copious amounts of turkey, I admit it made me think twice about ever eating one again. It seems we never really know what those birds are up to pre gluttonous feast.

Behold The Tryptotrouser Turkey Print Ball Hammock Boxer Briefs:

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Yup.

They exist.

And the product description is totally blog worthy.

Spend more time stuffing your face and less time stuffing your balls this Thanksgiving. Introducing the only ball hammock boxers that can hold just as much weight as your tryptophan-induced insides can fathom. Protect your baby gravy like you protect your prized family seat, with a ball hammock to gently rest your stones and an ultra soft micro model material that will have your girl wanting seconds. And thirds. And probably yams because yams are just so tasty.

“Baby gravy”?

I’ve heard a lot of interesting terms for the male anatomy over the years…. but that’s a new one. (And speaking as someone who loves gravy on her mashed taters? Stop using it…. right freaking now.)

But if you’re thinking yeah, thanks a lot River. Thanksgiving is over and now I’ve missed a perfect opportunity to give a wonderfully thoughtful gift along with the green bean casserole?

Fear not.

This post will pass along further information for what I think is probably the best Christmas stocking stuffer ever.

For your husband, your brother, your uncle, your cousin…. Hell, for every man in your life.

Give them to your mailman and the guy who changes your oil.

You can thank me later.

Snowballs

If you clicked the link, you’ll realize I wasn’t talking about those delightfully revolting pink Hostess treats that look like Tribbles.

It’s another thing entirely.

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No, I’m not kidding…

And some of the descriptions are funnier than the product itself.

“Summer is a decidedly, uh, swampy time for many men and the summer of 2019 has been especially hot and humid throughout most of the northern hemisphere. Dress loose and in light fabrics all you want, eventually the heat hits you in the crotch.

It’s a uniquely male problem and one underwear company has the solution to that and more. Snowballs basically wants to ice your ‘nads back into the comfort—and fertility—zone.

Being able to walk around with your ‘nads air-conditioned without risking indecent exposure is pretty appealing. And Snowballs claims their product can do more than just frost the funk away from your nether regions.”

Swampy?