Ah, Keith… he’ll outlive us all. When the earth is experiencing the utter destruction of nuclear winter? Two things will survive… cockroaches and Keith Richards.
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Here’s Larry, Curly and Moe. The three wild turkeys that my oh so stubborn husband chases off our property at least 4 times every morning. It’s comical to watch my other half flying across the back yard in his pajamas and slippers, waving his arms like Robbie the Robot, hollering at them to scat…. while the Stooges run to the edge of the property line and patiently wait for him to go back inside.
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100,000 people have had nothing better to do with their lives for the past 2 years than read my drivel filled posts. If that isn’t cause for celebration? I don’t know what is.
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This small bottle of supposedly outstanding margarita mix a friend gave me was funny for one reason only.
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10 cocktails? From that mini container! Clearly they’ve never bellied up to our bar.
We have wild turkeys that visit our backyard bird feeders to scrounge what’s fallen on the ground.
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We’ve had flocks for decades and it’s never been an issue. They’re goofy…. and honestly, I find them quite comical to watch. But this past year, in which my husband has been home 24/7 hogging all the bandwidth teleworking… he’s taken an interest in feeding the birds.
The man who used to complain I bought too much seed and spent too much money on suet nuggets now glares at me if the 50lb pound bag falls below a quarter. And since he gets up at an unfathomable time of the morning ( pre sunrise people… WTF? ) he’s usually the first one out the door to fill the feeders.
If the turkeys visit in the spring, summer or fall? Fine. But in the winter their prodigious piles of poo land on snow and ice which is not nearly as absorbent as dirt and well…. let’s just say Tiny Tim isn’t going to be singing about tiptoeing through that anytime soon.
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Hence the never ending battle my extremely stubborn husband wages on a daily basis.
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This will go on for hours.
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Even when he’s on the phone for work dealing with a man in violation of FAA regulations.
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He chases them, they run to the edge of the property line and wait for him to go back in the house, they return, he chases them…etc, etc, etc.
If you think you’ve never met anyone more stubborn than a retired Marine? You’ve never met a Maine wild turkey.
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The funniest part of his new hobby? As soon as he gives up and goes back in the office….
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The turkeys call in reinforcements and descend en masse. He chased a dozen…. 26 came back.
So seriously, that after filling the feeders and scattering seed on the ground for the cardinals during a snow storm?
He repeatedly chased off the interlopers.
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And threw bare handed snowballs at them to boot.
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He even followed them down the hill to the woods to make sure they were gone.
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Did I mention it was a little cold that day? Well, it was.
And just so you know?
This was the third of five hasty retreats the turkeys beat, only to come back and nosh happily on spilled seed when my husband gave up. (And no, I didn’t tell him.)
Wild turkeys. They’re comical and I love to watch them…
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But then they discovered my deer grain pans.
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I chased them, but half heartedly and with ridiculously cringe worthy baby talk.
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But they’re turkeys, so as soon as I walked in the house and looked out the window? This.
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So I chased them again. And that time they stayed gone for an hour… just long enough for me to put out the nightly deer snack.
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While I don’t mind them coming to eat the dropped bird seed and assorted Casa River insects, they’ve figured out the buffet of deer grain, fruit and fox food is laid out at 3:00pm and this might be a problem.