I’ve been cat sitting for our neighbors this week.
.
.
They live one door over and down behind us near the river. They’re also the neighbors who had their driveway redone the same time we did. It’s an absolute joy to ride down there now.
.
.
Pia greets me at the door upon arrival. She never used to, but has come realize I am the bringer of food when mom is away… so I am tolerated now.
Twenty one years ago… when we moved back to Maine and bought our house in the country, I gazed across the road at the giant empty field and dreamt of cows.
Yes, I’m that person. The one you take on road trips who points out the window and yells cow! every time she spots one.
I’m not sure why. I certainly didn’t grow up with bovines in New Jersey, but I’ve always found something immensely soothing about watching cows graze quietly in a meadow.
As you know, the property across the road was sold to an organic vegetable farmer… and while over the years he’s had goats and chickens and ducks, nary a cow has been spotted.
I’d given up my dream of wandering across the street and making hooved friends.
But last weekend?
I spotted something wonderful next door.
Something I never thought I’d see….
.
.
Woot!
Cow!!
Well, a two week old calf to be precise… happily munching our neighbors front lawn. One ecstatic phone call later I learned he’s actually a class project for a grand daughter. Feed and raise a cow? That was never part of my school curriculum, but yay!
Our neighbor told me she has a feeling the adorable (cow!) project will more than likely be a permanent resident when all is said and done.
Something popped up in my Facebook memories today that made me smile.. so I have to share.
11 years ago? A chicken came to visit.
.
.
This particular fowl was accompanied by our farming neighbor and his young son because he knows I love them and used to “chicken sit” his flock when they were away.
.
.
As you can see the bird made itself right at home.
.
.
Of course it found the dry cat food on the floor so I moved the bowl to the counter… which didn’t make a bit of difference. (Ugh. That old countertop. Glad that’s history)
.
.
Alternate snacks were offered and accepted.
.
.
Needless to say our 3 cats were locked in the bedroom for the duration of the chicken visit.
Our neighbors. The larger horse is an absolute bully and follows closely behind the pony nipping his butt all day long.
.
.
I keep rooting for the little guy to give him a good swift kick, but clearly he’s a pacifist.
.
.
A recently purchased tee shirt. I can never resist a funny brewery slogan, but when I researched this one I discovered it just sells equipment. No matter, it’s still beer related.
.
.
The look your cat gives you when you don’t share your chicken salad sandwich.
My very favorite small batch artisan gin. Made by a distillery in New Hampshire, we make the pilgrimage once a year so I can stock up on the plummy goodness. ( And at $60 a bottle, stocking up is serious business.)
Made with damson plums, bitter orange and fresh juniper, this gin is an absolute delight and makes your tonic shiver with orgasmic pleasure. It’s a seasonal treat and if the roll out is missed? River is not a happy camper.
For this reason I tend to bogart the elixir, and only roll it out on special occasions or for special people. So you can imagine my level of annoyance when the neighbors dropped by the barn a few weeks ago (with friends and family in tow) to share in the glory that is the man cave. We welcomed them in, gave them the $2 tour and offered them an adult beverage.
Mind you… at any given time I have 48+ bottles of liquor on the shelves, a mini fridge of mixers, soda and juice, a dual tap kegerator, and a full size refrigerator filled with craft beer, wine, hard seltzer, hard cider and canned cocktails. My point?
There be options!
.
.
It was then that my idiot oh so generous husband suggested the group try gin and tonics made with.. you guessed it.. my very last, hard to replace, time sensitive half bottle of Tamworth Damson.
.
.
If I could have reached him from under the bar I would have kicked him. Instead, I smiled through clenched teeth and poured the final drops of my precious spirit and handed glasses to everyone.
They oohed and ahhed appreciatively, asked where they could buy it, then promptly changed their minds when they heard the price. The only thing that spared my idiot oh so generous husband’s life was the fact that I was unable to offer refills.
And now I wait.
Checking the website weekly to see when my happy juice is next available for purchase.
There’s rumor it may not be until mid December this year… which gives me ample time to beat the mantra Do not offerthe special gin without permission! into my husband’s head.
There was an outdoor wedding last weekend. If only I’d known they were taking requests.
.
.
We have once weekly trash pick up at our house, $2.50 a bag…. But everything else has to go to the recycle barn. Decades ago when it was realized people were throwing out perfectly useable items, an idea was born.
While I don’t shop at the “Gift Store”, my husband has been known to come home with more than he went with.
😬
.
.
This is our neighbor across the road. His fields are looking pretty spiffy…. And oh! That fresh ginger.
❤️
.
Where there's only one step from the sublime to the ridiculous.
River's world..... 