Tag Archives: small town

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I love my town.

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Let’s check in with my little country town’s Facebook page shall we….

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Mainers. We’re a practical people… and this does make a certain kind of sense.

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I’ve heard of the Traveling Wilburys…. but the Traveling Pigeons? Wonder if the white one is lead guitar.

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Alright, so some of us are woefully out of touch.

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Sadly this was from our farming neighbor across the road. He’s had an honor system bucket for over a year now with no trouble, but I suppose it was bound to happen sometime.

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The wonderful part is after posting that snarky news flash, the town felt so badly they rallied around his vegetable stand and he made more money that day than what was stolen. Small towns rock!

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The latest square for the celebration quilt from our local ladies.

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And finally, when you need to raise money in our town?

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You auction pork.

🤣

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I love my town.

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Not much exciting was happening in our little burg this week.

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It was a very mild winter and unfortunately we’re all apt to have lots of Johns. Wait…. that didn’t sound right.

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John gets around.

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Bad puns. They’re everywhere.

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A brazen coyote? This is where my mind went….

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That’s got to be a hard way to go.

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With a name like Tofu, the odds are good she wasn’t eaten. Even hawks have to draw the line somewhere.

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Quilting. Keeping grandma off the streets for centuries.

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Our town is celebrating its 250th anniversary this year and our little old ladies have been feverishly working on a quilt to commemorate the occasion.

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Everyone is choosing a local landmark and some of them are quite nice.

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I can barely sew a button and have been known to super glue dress hems, so I fully appreciate the work that goes into these squares.

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Even if some of the landmarks look a trifle… crooked.

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How cute is that!

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Our general store was opened in 1904 and though it’s changed owners multiple times, and almost gone under twice…. our town rallies behind it and keeps the doors open. Small business and small towns. You can’t beat them!

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I love my town.

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I live in the country, in a small Maine town. This is never more apparent than when you read their local Facebook page.

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I don’t golf, never have. But if I could hire a personal goat caddy? I might have to start.

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And speaking of goats….

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Rent a goat. Now there’s a small business worth supporting.

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And if you think we’re all about goats, never fear.

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We have worms right next to the milk and butter in our grocery store’s dairy case.

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And finally… are we really doing this now?

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Puppy play dates. What happened to the good old days when neighborhood dogs just met on the corner and sniffed each other butts?

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I love my town.

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In the continuing series Small Town Life Be Different…. here are the latest missives from mine.

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This was so sweet. Our local UPS man… who distributes doggie treats on his route… is in the hospital with pneumonia, so all his four legged customers posted pictures.

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Because traffic alerts in the country are less about speeding and more about manure.

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Every year the women of the Historical Society sew a quilt with local scenes to be auctioned off.

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The Town Office bought the first one where it still hangs proudly.

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Yes, I showed this to the husband. And no, he hasn’t removed his absolutely no chickens ban.

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Yikes. Critters that crawl under your house and die are the worst. But I can’t say I’ve ever known one to stink of garlic. And speaking of stinking…

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Word to the wise… if you think it’s your year? It most definitely is. 🤢

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As he predicted, this man’s post got a whole lotta hate. He’s new to the area… and I’m guessing he isn’t going to be very popular. Buying a house in a rural part of Maine means generations of the previous owners might still be inhabiting your back 40. A man up the road from us has a cemetery from the late 1700’s on his land. He doesn’t know the family or their descendants, but lovingly cares for the plot all the same. It’s called respect.

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I love my town… Part who cares anymore.

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Our town has come up with some marvelously creative ways to keep kids active and engaged during the Covid months. This is the latest.

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Businesses and public areas are all displaying clues.

In other news, people are offering free treasures.

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Dirty, smoke stained old cups from a discontinued set? Christ, don’t tell my husband.. he’d be on them like white on rice.

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An icicle contest. Most excellent!

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Our big one had grown to 5 feet so I proudly entered it to take the lead…..

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Until Robert showed up.

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Damn you Robert. You and your massive projectile.

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I love my town… part whatever.

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Haven’t done one of these in a while, so I thought it was time to check my small town’s FB page.

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The ultimate in tree repurposing. Goats!

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The old fashion trade and barter system is alive and well in my town. I have a neighbor who had his garage built with nothing but beer.

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Girl Scout cookies are the new crack. Those little bitches give you a free sample and you’re hooked.

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Sorry bud, someone left it in ours as well.

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That is perfectly evil. And I love it!

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Poor piner. Hope he was alright…

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Not worthy of their own posts.

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We drove through a small town the other day where I saw a building named after me.

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But it was a gym and not a bar, so clearly they have no idea who I am.

In news from the grocery store, it looks like there was a run on kitty litter.

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Are we hoarding that now? Damn. I didn’t get the memo.

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Ha! You have to love clever ad men.

And finally, I bought a calendar for the barn bar.

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It’s appropriate as fork.

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The great goat escape.

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Livestock run amok in my town…. as witnessed by a flurry of recent Facebook postings.

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Poor goat, he’s just lonesome.

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Goat tracking is a wonderful thing.

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Uh oh, now the law is involved.

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Apparently this isn’t a first for local law enforcement.

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Pie rewards. Ya gotta love it.

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Benny Hill music would be the perfect accompaniment to guard rail hopping goats.

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When your community is requesting goats in heat? You know things are about to get real.

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Goat Busters. Where do I sign up?

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Goats in tutus? Yes, please.

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If the goat shows up at our backyard buffet, I shall report back.

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Random things and thoughts.

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What passes for news in my town?

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Oh no! The poor girl. Being roosterless is a terrible thing.

Or so I’ve heard…

A while back I made a Facebook Veterans Day post with some photos of the hubby in uniform. I found these after the fact.

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In Beirut, Lebanon October 1983 with the bombed out Marine barracks in the background.

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He took 12 bodies out of that building.

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A horrible day.

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This one was in Newport, Rhode Island (not sure of the year)  He was receiving a commendation for saving a man’s life.

That’s my husband. And yes, I’m proud.

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A frosty sunrise photo down by the river.

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Okay, maybe you didn’t used to drink in the woods…. but I was a teenager who grew up on an Island in Maine. We drank everywhere.

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And finally, an update.

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Yay.

I love a happy ending.

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