Tag Archives: ocean

The very definition of random.

 

Let’s start with a beautiful picture I snapped the other night when we took a ride up the coast.

 

 

Maine summer on the ocean.

You can’t beat it.

 

 

Our neighbor invited us over to see their tree house up close and personal.

 

 

Yes, the tree adjacent tree house I complained about in my blog a while back.

So… which one of you weasels ratted me out?

 

Adverbs.

Or rather, the death of them… is driving me to drink.

 

 

Real delicious?

Make the next one a double.

 

 

Grocery store bouquets.

 

 

Because sometimes a girl just has to buy herself flowers.

 

 

Socks… for my table?

Wonder if the dryer will eat those as well.

 

And finally, because you know I couldn’t resist….

 

 

You’re welcome.

2020 can bite me.

 

Just when I think this horrible year can’t get any worse…..

2020 snickers and rubs its hands together in glee.

 

 

That’s right, a Great White Shark is in Maine waters and has killed a woman. We used to think this was impossible ….. but it’s 2020.

All bets are off.

Shortly after the tragedy, these pictures were taken off the coast of the Island where I used to lived.

 

 

Lunch.

 

 

That’s my Island in the background.

*Gulp*

And if Great White shark appearances in Maine aren’t crazy enough?

This happened early Wednesday morning:

 

 

It felt like a bomb had exploded in our basement.

And if that’s a 2.2?

I’m never moving to California.

Of course, we’re Mainers.

Tough….

Resilient.

 

 

We will rebuild!

 

Jennette’s Pier, Nags Head North Carolina…. cold wind, cursing, birds and the death of a hairdo.

 

Continuing farther down the coast of the Outer Banks, I wanted to stop and walk out on a pier.

(Have I mentioned that I have a knack for picking the coldest, windiest, most frigid days to do this? Seriously… it’s a gift. If there’s one bitter cold day on an otherwise delightfully warm 2 week vacation? That’s the one I’ll choose to walk out on a pier.)

 

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There’s the husband, bracing himself against the wind and giving me (and my phone) the evil eye.

 

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And there’s the entrance to Jennette’s Pier, the biggest and best in Nags Head.

 

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Gladly.

This type… and the other. It was too damn cold for either of them.

 

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Approaching the entrance…. you don’t follow a yellow brick road.

 

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But a line of memorial blue fish.

I love this idea!

 

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A quick peek at the beach…

 

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The map…

 

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And me mumbling ‘Holy Crap it’s freezing! Can you read the pier history a little faster please?’

 

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A quick peek at the beach on the other side.

 

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Through the gate…

 

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Past the turtle.

And finally, the door…

 

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Where the husband had to hold on to his hat so it didn’t fly off.

It was that windy.

A brief warm respite inside to pay the $2 ticket price and out we went.

 

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As piers go?

It rocked.

 

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Even the birds agreed.

 

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These guys were everywhere.

 

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Fighting the wind just like us.

 

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Hairdo?

Not so much.

 

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So we walked….

 

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Shivering in the arctic blast…. with the husband cursing me under his breath.

 

 

Good times.

 

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Every now and then there would be a wind break where we’d huddle to catch our breath.

 

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And then finally, we reached the end.

 

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Where the husband realized we had to walk back, into the wind…. and started cursing me under his breath all over again.

 

 

Day 6…. The Outer Banks, Jerky, and Dirty Dicks.

 

During the 17 years we lived in North Carolina, we never managed to make it to the Outer Banks… though not for lack of trying on my part. So on Day 6 of this vacation? A three hour road trip.

 

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Past the Lamberts Point Coal Terminal in Hampton Roads…

 

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The largest coal exporting port in the country.

And if you think it’s pretty? Just imagine how nice it smells….

 

 

Yes. Kind of like that.

 

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Over and through the Hampton Bay Bridge Tunnel…

And past some tempting tourist attractions.

 

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Is it shocking we didn’t stop?

 

 

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No.

It is not.

 

 

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One more very long bridge later….

 

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And we were there.

 

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The Outer Banks of North Carolina.

The Graveyard of the Atlantic.

200 miles of beach.

 

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Where the wind was so fierce it was blowing said beach right across the road when we got there.

It had been a mild 48 degrees in Williamsburg, but here?

It felt like minus 12.

 

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Beachfront condos and rentals were everywhere.

 

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And in every color you can imagine.

 

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Neighbor’s roof blocking your view?

No worries, just build a deck on yours.

 

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It never ceases to amaze me how little property they can build on these days. Our town has a 3 acre minimum….

At the Outer Banks? It must be 3 inches.

And though we were getting hungry for lunch…

 

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Awful Arthur’s was closed.

Damn… and I really wanted to see how awful it was.

But since we have a good friend named Richard, who is sometimes called Dick?

 

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We had to.

 

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Yes, ladies and gentlemen.

I got my crabs from Dirty Dicks.

 

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My She Crab soup that is….

 

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And my hushpuppies….

 

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And my Ocean Blue Margarita in a disappointing plastic cup as they had run out of funny bar glasses…. or so we thought.

 

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I’m not a Bloody Mary fan…. but that looks like a meal in itself.

 

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The husband had mussels and lamented over not getting a glass for his collection.

(Oh, did I tell you? Along with all the other ridiculous pieces of crap things he collects… he has now decided to acquire a glass from every fun bar or restaurant we visit.)

Did this place qualify as fun?

I don’t know….

 

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But with fried potato salad on the menu it definitely qualified as southern.

Finished eating, the husband asked the waitress to rinse out the plastic cups so he could bring them home to our friend as a joke…. which is when she pointed to us to their entire store of Dirty Dick merchandise.

We should have known.

But it was too good to pass up and we bought him a hat, a t shirt and a bumper sticker for Christmas.

(P.S… He loved them)

 

 

 

 

Cape Cod Day 4, Black Dog Tavern, Vineyard Haven.

 

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If you live in New England, I can guarantee you’ve seen numerous bumper stickers, t shirts and assorted swag with the ubiquitous black dog silhouette.

 

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But on day 4 of our fabulous Cape Cod adventure, we had lunch at the real thing.

 

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The original Black Dog Tavern on Martha’s Vineyard.

For a sweetly illustrated history, click here.

 

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It’s a rustic little place…

 

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With some fabulous views.

 

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Filled with maritime history as well as the flavor of the sea….

And on the day we had lunch there?

Even an adorable real life black dog on the beach.

 

 

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(No worries… it was a cool day, he had water and his owners checked on him regularly.)

 

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Cocktail?

Don’t mind if I do….

 

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Since we were at the Black Dog, I tried a Black Dog Orange Crush.

 

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Which might have to become my new favorite way to wake up the day.

 

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Happily sipping, we enjoyed watching the ferry.

 

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The boats..

 

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The harbor…

 

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And local craft beer disappear.

But yes, the food. We came for food…

 

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Quahog chowder. Thick, creamy and delicious with homemade croutons made for a nice start.

What’s a quahog you ask?

It’s a large hard shelled clam.

 

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Isn’t that just typical human behavior?

Name your pet, then kill him to find out how old he is.

Sorry Ming, you deserved better. And I sincerely hope you weren’t in our soup.

 

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I was in the mood for a good chargrilled burger and this one didn’t disappoint.

 

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The husband? He inhaled two dozen mussels.

Replete, we said goodbye to the real black dog….

 

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The views…

 

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The pier….

 

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And the original Black Dog Tavern.

 

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Fervently wishing they would come to Maine and build one on our coast!

 

Cape Cod Day 4 … a special moment in Menemsha, Martha’s Vineyard

 

When we left Edgartown I saw a sign saying Menemsha, and something in the deep dark recesses of my brain sparked.

 

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To be honest, I didn’t even know why until I got there.

 

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The art wasn’t familiar.

 

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Neither were the warnings about jellyfish and nude bathing…. two things that should never be experienced together.

So while the husband made a new friend…

 

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I walked around wondering why this particular place had called to me.

 

 

Wind?

Just a wee bit…

 

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It was a lovely spot.

 

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And as I wandered…

 

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I realized what I was doing.

 

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I was walking in my late father’s footsteps.

 

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He was an artist….. and had painted this very spot.

 

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That’s why we were there.

 

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Because all my life….. I’d seen the word Menemsha on a few of his paintings and never knew what it meant.

 

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I lost my father when I was 15.

Much too young…

 

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We missed so many things.

 

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But for a moment, on this day….

 

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He walked with me.

 

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And my heart was full.

 

 

 

 

Cape Cod Day 4….Martha’s Vineyard

 

The forecast for Veteran’s Day was warm and bright so we decided to book passage on the Steamship Authority’s car ferry over to the Vineyard. This is something I’ve always wanted to do and I was tickled pink. Having no idea where, how much, or when…. we dropped by the ticketing office the night before and were rewarded with these –

 

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Free tickets for the husband.

How sweet was that?

 

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We reserved a spot on the 9:30am ferry from Woods Hole and were told to arrive half an hour before departure. Ever the type A personality, I made sure we were there 45 minutes prior and as soon as we pulled up, they pointed us towards the 8:15 freight trip and boom!

We were on board.

 

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With a giant load of Christmas trees.

 

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Being used to small Maine island ferries, I was amazed at how large these ships were.

 

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And how clean, and how spacious, and what great views they afforded.

 

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We happily roamed around taking pictures…

 

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And found a snack bar!

 

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Okay…. it wasn’t open off season, but still. If you want a snack on a Maine ferry? You better dig in your purse for that crushed pack of Nabs from 2003.

And then, before we knew it….

 

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We were there.

 

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Approaching Vineyard Haven.

 

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And yes, it was just as beautiful and quintessentially coastal New England as you would imagine.

 

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Here’s another ferry getting ready to depart, so you can see how large they are.

 

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We had booked an 8:30pm trip back, so we arrived ready to spend the whole day exploring.

 

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Of course none of the tourist information kiosks were open this time of year and we had no utter clue where we were going. ( I didn’t find this map until we were ready to leave.)

So we just drove.

 

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Past weather beaten waterfront homes…

 

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And homes…

 

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That had their own private lighthouses.

 

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How cool is that?

 

Cape Cod Day 3…. Plymouth harbor, The Rock and finally, some food.

 

So the lovely path through the park brought us to downtown Plymouth and the harbor.

 

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It’s a pretty spot.

 

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And at low tide you get a really good view of the rock retaining wall.

 

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There were more scallop shells…

 

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And piers..

 

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And a statue of the Governor who spelled Plymouth with the ‘i’ that drove me crazy the entire time we were touring the Plantation.

Seriously… it was painful.

 

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But then…

 

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In the distance…

 

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In the middle of what appeared to be a mausoleum…

 

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Surrounded by pillars and wrought iron gates….

 

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And guarded by a Ranger was…

Are you ready for what everyone who visits Plymouth Massachusetts has to see?

Brace yourself.

 

Here it comes….

 

The one, the only….

 

Plymouth Rock!

 

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Yup.

 

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That’s it.

I can’t say I really even knew what I was expecting…. but I’m pretty sure it was more than this.

To be honest, it was a rather bizarre experience. You know you have to find it, you know you have to see it, you know you have to photograph it (though I resisted the selfies some people took) …. but when you finally sidle up to the railing and look down?

 

 

Okay, it’s a rock.

And we all know I have a soft spot for rocks, but…

 

 

But alas, that’s all there was.

The Ranger told us they had to protect what was left because for years people would come and chip and chisel pieces from it for keepsakes. My first thought was, you should have started sooner.

So there you have it.

 

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We came.

We saw.

We photographed the most famous rock in America.

 

YOURE-WELCOME

 

Plymouth, Massachusetts.

They have a park…. for a rock.

 

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Ya gotta love this country!

And now… for my oh, not so patient food photo people.

 

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Liquid refreshment at the East Bay Grille in Plymouth.

 

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A wonderful restaurant with a view, potent cocktails and seriously good food.

 

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I started with Risotto Balls.

And as balls go? They were top notch.

 

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After a pomegranate martini, I went for the Autumn Punch. It sounds sweet, but the tart cranberry and acidic orange juice cut it perfectly.

 

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The husband went with some kind of saucy fish…. blame the martini, but I don’t remember which…. brown rice and grilled butternut squash.

While I…

Can you guess?

 

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Cognac cream sauce?

 

 

Ooh la la!

 

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And yes, of course we had dessert.

 

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New York style cheesecake for the hubs.

 

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And a mouthwatering mountain of Tiramisu for yours truly.

It’s a shame we were only in Plymouth for one day because I could easily have eaten there every night.

 

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Vacation Day 3 officially over.

Only 5 more to go!

 

 

No worries, at this rate it will only take a few more weeks worth of posts.

 

 

 

 

Some random photographs….

 

Because sometimes I want to share, and they just don’t rate a blog of their own.

 

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A few shots of my local area.

 

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I’m blessed to live in such a beautiful state.

 

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Top that for sunrise color. I dare ya!

As you’ve probably guessed by now, when we travel…. I take a lot of pictures. The husband is quite patient with me and usually pulls over when I point out the window, squeee! and yell pull over. He never wants to photograph anything, so I had to laugh a few weeks ago when he stopped along side something and asked me to take a picture of it for him.

I did….

 

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And am seriously hoping it doesn’t end up in our barn in the near future.

 

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This is not what you want to be following during a traffic jam on Route 1. I saw pink hippos in my dreams for many nights after that.

And finally…

Me.

 

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No makeup, just a smile…. and the realization that laying out in the sun this past summer has bleached my hair to the point where I now have dark roots without ever having dyed it.

What the Hell?

 

The post in which River goes to a Lobster Festival but can’t eat lobster.

 

The following is proof that my husband can inflict cruel and unusual punishment.

It happened at The 72nd Maine Lobster Festival in Rockland, Maine.

We lucked out and found a parking spot close to the festival, and it was across the street from the Trade Winds resort where I spotted the first lobster.

 

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Although it looked more like a demented crawfish…

 

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The stupid thing had teeth!

This did not bode well for the day….

 

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But the weather was perfect…

 

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And we were near the ocean.

It doesn’t get much better than that…

 

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Or does it?

Aaarrgghh!

There be Pirates.

 

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Pirates on the boats…

 

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Pirates on the piers…

 

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Basically, there were pirates everywhere.

 

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And as much as I tried to avoid it?

 

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There was lobster.

Mocking me and my damned allergy.

 

 

World’s Largest Lobster cooker?

 

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Yup… that too.

 

 

We passed lobster rolls, lobster stew, lobster quesadillas, lobster mac and cheese, lobster chowder, lobster Caesar salad, lobster wontons, even lobster risotto balls….

And then there was this:

 

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Me…. sitting in a tent, surrounded by people eating lobster.

 

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I had to sit and watch my husband as he oohed and ahhed over every last sweet, fresh from the water, dripping in melted butter, bite.

Cruel and unusual to be sure.

 

 

It wasn’t easy.

I tried to find solace in a crabmeat roll…

 

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And the required  I’m at a street festival and have to eat the junkiest, highest calorie  thing I can find  fried dough.

 

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It was good… but it wasn’t lobster.

Cursing my treacherous body,  I pulled up my big girl panties and soldiered on.

 

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We strolled through the art show…

 

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And into the lobster trap lined entrance to the craft show.

 

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Where the husband bought organic natural honey…

 

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And we saw a buoy that believed size does matter….

 

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There was another tent filled with lobster eaters…

 

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And King Neptune….

 

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Who looked a little lost.

 

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The King is quite popular at the festival….

 

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And people line up for photos whenever he walks by.

 

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My lobster-less belly aside, it was a fun day.

 

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And Rockland is a fun town.

Although I have to admit, the children do look a little….

Off.

 

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