Of course some days are better than others.
But rainbow days?
Are simply the best.
Of course some days are better than others.
But rainbow days?
Are simply the best.
It started out well enough, with a sighting of a beloved yet rarely seen visitor.
This time he was across the street, walking along the edge of our neighbor’s farm.
He’s a beautiful ring necked pheasant we named Phineas.
They’re not native to Maine and can’t survive the winters, but a man up the road raises them and occasionally one or two will break free. Last year, Phineas brought his woman to our backyard. She was looking for a nesting site… but we never did see any chicks.
Later on in the day….
Saturday, May frickin‘ 9th?
We had ducks.
This is the first time we’ve ever had mallards.
Sadly….it isn’t the first time we’ve had snow in May.
The ducks stayed quite a while, raiding the droppings from the bird feeders and the leftover deer grain.
And then a friend joined them.
A fowl day for sure.
Our resident chucker was a bit ticked off the other day.
He was out back in the sun, enjoying a few apples…
Happily posing for pictures….
And an hour later?
One cold woodchuck.
We had a squall move in from out of nowhere.
And I’m sure he was rethinking the decision to come out of hibernation.
No, he wasn’t happy.
With the snow…. or me.
I forgot I still had some of these crazy foreign words in my files.
So keep reading… they might come in handy some day.
The chattering of teeth from the cold or from rage.
I don’t have much of a temper, but the next time this happens…..
At least I’ll know what to call it.
Cavoli Riscaldati (Italian)
The result of attempting to revive an unworkable relationship. Translates to “reheated cabbage.”
Oh, those Italians.
Ever the romantics….
You know that woman who stands on her doorstep (or in line at the supermarket, or at the park, or in a restaurant) cursing at her children? The Danes know her, too.
I think we all know that woman.
Japanese slang term which describes the experience of seeing a woman who appears pretty from behind but not from the front.
Because sometimes, you just can’t tell.
I bet we all remember this last one from Laverne and Shirley…. but I never new what it meant until now.
Schlemiel and schlimazel (Yiddish)
Someone prone to bad luck. Yiddish distinguishes between the schlemiel and schlimazel, whose fates would probably be grouped under those of the klutz in other languages. The schlemiel is the traditional maladroit, who spills his coffee; the schlimazel is the one on whom it’s spilled.
Spring in Maine looks a little different than most places….
Because we woke up to this today.
We didn’t have nearly enough snow this winter, but now? Almost a flippin’ foot fell overnight.
Daffodils and tulips?
Not quite yet.
And because all that heavy wet snow knocked out our satellite feed and someone can’t stand to be without the news for 5 minutes?
At 6:30 am.
Looks like fun, no?
Crazy weather this winter left the wildlife a little shell shocked.
Snow, rain, ice, warm temperatures, then more snow and ice. They didn’t know what the hell was going on.
We had skunks in January and fox in February.
Yes dear, we had deer.
Veritable herds of deer.
Who we love to watch.
I mean really….
How can you not?
Such beautiful creatures.
They almost make the slow internet speed we have to suffer in the country worthwhile.
Leaking roof saga continued.
Winter is the worst possible time in Maine for your roof to spring a leak … so of course, that’s exactly what’s happened.
Remember when I said I’d cringe every time it rains?
That’s the sound of me cringing.
It poured the other day… and so did our ceiling.
So much so I had to add another pan.
Which drove the husband nuts when he came home…. and because he’s a man and had to do something?
Yeah. He decided to climb up into the attic to see where it was leaking.
Naturally this isn’t as easy as climbing a set of stairs… because no.
Here at Casa River, we like a challenge.
The den closet, home to an overflow of the husband’s
useless crap treasure.
(Yes, he collects old wooden hangers. Don’t you?)
Half of one side had to be emptied and strewn all over the room….
Because the only way to access the crawl space we call an attic is to remove all the shelving and climb up a hole at the top of the closet.
A design paradigm we curse the builders for quite often.
It’s a bit of a nightmare getting up there.
And no, the husband didn’t appreciate me making a Kodak moment out of the experience.
He wasn’t thrilled that I stuck my head up through the hole to offer advice either.
Men. There’s no pleasing you.
But look… I found an antenna from the 1970’s!
Did I mention there’s no actual floor up there? Just a few scattered pieces of particle board that break when you kneel on them.
So after scuttling around like a crab and lying on his back…
And pointing his flashlight near the section of the roof of the addition you can’t access from the crawl space, he did find where the water was coming in. Halfway up the peak, and running down the beams…. which we can find absolutely no reason for.
Doesn’t this look like fun?
Especially since there’s not a damned thing you can do about it until spring when you can rip off the shingles to find the bad spot.
Meanwhile I’ll have this lovely and ever expanding wart to look at.
And every time I do?
I hear a cash register.
Even with the milder winters we’re having, we still see our fair share of snow, ice, and sleet. But temperatures are warming and we’re not seeing those epic dumps of the white stuff like we used to.
This used to be a normal February.
Tunneling was a way of life.
Now? We get a few inches and it melts.
Then it freezes.
I am so done with ice.
Yes, it’s pretty.
But when walking to the mailbox means you might slip, fall and crack a rib?
You can have it.
Give me a foot of snow over pretty shining crystals any day.
And with all that snow, melting and ice?
A leak in the roof.
And what looks like an expensive repair to the ceiling.
It’s the worst possible time of year for it.
So from now until spring, when we can get it fixed, I’m going to cringe every time it rains.
I think we’ve established we are not theme park people.
So spending 6 hours at Busch Gardens in Williamsburg while on Christmas vacation?
It’s billed as the prettiest theme park in the country.
And while I doubt that’s a very high bar…..
It’s plastic fantastic fake European villages failed to impress….. seeing they were less village and more overpriced stores filled with gimmicky tourist merchandise.
It was enough to make me drink.
Warm Apple Pie Cocktail in hand… we continued.
(You knew it was coming, don’t look so surprised. If ever I was in dire need of alcohol? It was then.)
So we paid a fortune, had drinks in hand and a 7 year old who wanted to go on some rides. Problem was… most of them weren’t operational for Christmas.
This did not go over well with the little person in our midst.
She couldn’t drink, and she didn’t care about fake Europe… she just wanted some rides!
We found a few animals to distract her.
But it was cold and she was growing more bored with each step. Every ride we passed? Locked up tight.
And then viola!
I spotted a gondola.
3 adults and a midget. We’re in!
So we get on line.
A long line.
A very long line that took us almost 40 minutes to reach the end.
We boarded, anticipating a leisurely ride over the park.
And I kid you not, after taking this picture….
And this video….
Which lasted 40 seconds, we were done.
One second of ride for each minute we waited on line. Totally worth it!
We landed in “France”.
And you know what? I’ve been to France…. this wasn’t even close.
Still not finding a working ride, I spotted Hogwarts and the child’s eyes lit up.
Boo Busch Gardens…. it was blocked off and locked up tight.
I was beginning to hate this place.
Psychedelic camera toting bear aside.
Did I mention it was cold?
I mean down right freezing for southerners and even quite brisk for us Yankees after a few hours of walking.
At least this made her laugh.
If we had known all the fun kid stuff would be closed? We wouldn’t have gone in the afternoon but just waited until after dark for the lights.
Even the scooter brigade looked disappointed.
We did mange to find an old time carousel.
Where we waited on line for another 30 minutes to ride for 30 seconds. You could seriously get whiplash from how quickly these things end.
Magic dragons were climbed on….
Towers were explored….
More alcohol was needed….
Okay, maybe that was just me.
Rope bridges were crossed….
Even by the husband if you can believe it.
Another warm up station later, it was starting to get dark enough to see some lights.
And yes, as cold and miserable as I was….. I was going to wait until dark for the lights we paid almost $300 to see.
After our long day at Historic Jamestown, it was time for some refreshment. Liquid and otherwise.
So we headed to Yorktown…
And their popular Riverwalk Landing.
I had planned to leisurely stroll around, check out the cute little shops…..
And walk the waterfront.
Until a stiff wind blew in and made it feel like -10 degrees.
Drinks and dinner.
This place looked promising from the outside….
From the inside? Not so much.
And while the cocktail list was interesting…..
And the Mulberry Muddler quite tasty, it was basically a loud sports pub with a menu that didn’t satisfy the husband’s cravings.
So one extremely large soft pretzel later, we left…. and went next door.
And were very glad we did.
Ah, much better.
It was a lovely place, and practically deserted off season.
Well, if you insist.
While I’m generally not a wine drinker, I do occasionally like Sangria…. and this one had apple brandy. Scrumptious.
We relaxed. We watched the sun set. We drank….
And yes, food picture screamers… we ate.
The menu was intriguing….
The food marvelous and artfully prepared.
Husband had the catch of the day…..
While I opted for the lamp chops.
Were they good?
I picked them up and gnawed the bones…. so in a word, yes.
Full, but never too full for dessert… we split this, which almost put me in a chocolate coma.
Day 7, done.
Only 8 more days to go!
If that helps?
Sure, be my guest.