Tag Archives: small town

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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I love my town.

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And I love their Facebook group page.

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A moo disorder?

More likely the poster has a Budweiser disorder.

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Okaaaay.

I’m not sure what Doug did to rate a shout out, but I’ll go with it.

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Damn. All I have under my bed is dust bunnies… where’s the fun in that?

Here’s a random photo of ducks that were for sale at our local hardware store. I’m always tempted to bring home a few when the husband sends me up there for screws.

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Now there’s a platform no one can argue with.

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You do, you really do.

Does anyone know where I can score one of those beauties?

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I still love my town, but…

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Remember Mr. H?

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The charismatic donkey that was built as a parade float but had recently been traveling around our town?

The one a local artist spent two years designing and building?

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Mr. H was well loved in our small rural community and people looked forward to seeing him cruising from place to place. Homeowners could request a Mr. H visit and he would happily park on your lawn for photo ops and climb aboards.

And then?

This:

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An event that’s shocked our close knit little town.

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The following is a statement from our town’s state representative –

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The artist donated this cat sculpture to our local elementary school and he happily greets children every morning as they start their day.

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I wish I’d known about the little memorial gathering. I would have attended and mourned his loss.

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As well as the loss of civility and common decency we’re currently experiencing in this country.

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Rest In Peace Mr. H.

I’m hoping everything you and the flag you stood for isn’t dead as well.

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I love my town.

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And I love what people post on its Facebook page.

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Oh no.

If you see it?  Please tell it we serve a daily and nightly buffet free of charge.

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I’m not exactly sure what constitutes ‘groovy’ lamb.

But I’m pretty sure this isn’t it.

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Jumping orangey peach colored fish?

Thanks 2020. Like this year wasn’t weird enough.

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I have to admit I’d never even heard of letterboxing before.

Sounds like a perfect Covid era activity though.

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Normally I’d say friend.

But it’s 2020, for all we know that thing is radioactive.

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A giant vacuum cleaner?

Well, yeah.  They want us to social distance…  so just stick the hose end into your local pub and switch her on.

I love my town!

 

Where else can you go shopping and be greeted by a chicken?

 

 

Although what this poor devil did to be locked up in a rubber prison I don’t know.

 

 

Where else can you go to find a library that sets up a walking story time for kids?

 

 

Where else can you get alerts about runaway goats?

 

 

And offers of free hay?

 

 

The same place that airs their poopy grievances on Facebook, that’s where.

 

 

I love my town!!