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We all know squirrels are dedicated acrobats, pilfering seed from feeders upside down and while hanging from one foot. But the other day I found myself being impressed with their balance.
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This little guy was sitting straight up… on a bent branch of our crabapple tree… in high wind.
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It was cold, and his little front feet were tucked in.
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But his back trotters were gripping for all they were worth.
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Bravo little guy.
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I have to laugh at the plethora of things that are flying around my town lately.
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CMP, Central Maine Power… otherwise known as the company everyone loves to hate. They rarely get anything right, and freeing a kite from a power line to get it stuck in a tree sounds like something they would do.
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Another lost kite. This one is pretty fierce, I might have been tempted to keep it.
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We’ve had some odd things blow onto our lawn, but never a tent.
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Storage sheds are also flying.
I really need to pay more attention to the skies around here…
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This week’s headlines from my little corner of the world.
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It’s duck season in Maine, so you can’t blame the poor bird for trying to find safe water.
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Not being a fan of eggs, I refuse to give this pie the recognition they believe it deserves.
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There you have it. A one of a kind chicken conveyance.
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Keep grandma off the streets!
Buy jam.
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We have chicken neighbors, but the rude things never drop by.
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Remember last week when I posted about the giant tarp and a high wind storm coming our way?
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Well, it came.
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And the tarp went.
Sailing off the roof, across the lawn and down into the woods where it rolled into a large ball and sailed right back up to the house.
How well did those grommets hold?
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Not very well as it turns out.
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Sadly along with the wind came rain. And with the tarp protecting nothing but snow covered ground, our ceiling leaked again.
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And the water broke through my previous patch job on the beam.
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So today I’ve been spackling and sanding trying to fill the hole.
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And bleaching the numerous stains on the ceiling…. which is getting quite ridiculous. Every storm brings a new stain in a slightly different spot.
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I’m seriously thinking of painting the damn thing in polka dots until spring.
And if you’re wondering what Lord Mountcatten was doing through all the excitement?
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Trying to ignore it of course.
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When your roof is leaking in the middle of a Maine winter and you have no idea why…. there’s really only one solution.
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You chip the ice and snow from around the door, set up a ladder….
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Climb up on the roof where you have to chip away more snow and ice…
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And lay a giant ass tarp. ( We’ll be the envy of all our neighbors now, so stylish! ) Then if you’re my husband, you leave a large part of it flapping in the corner.
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What?
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With a storm moving in, I had to fight him to secure the damn thing before it blew halfway to the next county.
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One little string, through one little grommet was all he would do.
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The snow came, turned to rain and miraculously the roof didn’t leak. But we’re due for strong winds in a few days so things are apt get interesting.
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Next week a contractor will be here to build a bar in our barn.
Yes, you read that correctly, a contractor… one we will pay. Actual money. That surprised me since the husband has does most of the Barn Mahal construction himself, but this guy also built the bar at our local pub… so instead of having a spouse made amateur facsimile, we’ll have a serious bar.
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With these giant extremely heavy boards the husband has kept from the original framing back in 2012.
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The boards that have been moved, shifted, relocated, bumped into and cursed for 8 long years…. so all I can say is, yay.
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Of course the other day we had to move them one last time.
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Because my other half wanted to get an idea what the future boozer would look like.
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And yes, that’s a driftwood Christmas tree on the right.
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My girlfriend made it, used it one year, then gave it to me for our porch. Unfortunately we experience a cross breeze from our neighbor’s field equivalent to the Ames research center wind tunnel NASA uses to test its rockets. That tree literally flew. Which is generally not what you want Christmas decorations to do.
So it’s been inside the barn for a few years and despite my pleading that it would be a nice addition to the bar room, husband wants it gone.
Tons of useless rusty crap? He’ll find the room. One unique and quirky decorative tree? Bye bye.
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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.)
There’s the husband, bracing himself against the wind and giving me (and my phone) the evil eye.
And there’s the entrance to Jennette’s Pier, the biggest and best in Nags Head.
Gladly.
This type… and the other. It was too damn cold for either of them.
Approaching the entrance…. you don’t follow a yellow brick road.
But a line of memorial blue fish.
I love this idea!
A quick peek at the beach…
The map…
And me mumbling ‘Holy Crap it’s freezing! Can you read the pier history a little faster please?’
A quick peek at the beach on the other side.
Through the gate…
Past the turtle.
And finally, the door…
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.
As piers go?
It rocked.
Even the birds agreed.
These guys were everywhere.
Fighting the wind just like us.
Hairdo?
Not so much.
So we walked….
Shivering in the arctic blast…. with the husband cursing me under his breath.
Good times.
Every now and then there would be a wind break where we’d huddle to catch our breath.
And then finally, we reached the end.
Where the husband realized we had to walk back, into the wind…. and started cursing me under his breath all over again.
The Pilgrims Monument in Provincetown. We came, we saw, we climbed.
And climbed. And climbed. And climbed….
Photo of my husband wondering why we don’t take relaxing vacations on the beach like normal people.
Completed in 1910 to commemorate the Pilgrim’s fist landing in Provincetown on November 21, 1620…. the tower is 252 tall and rises 350 feet above sea level.
(Those are Christmas lights radiating down from the top, not support wires. Because hey, if your monument is held up by wires? Even I’m not climbing it.)
No alcohol allowed? They really know how to kill a girl’s spirit.
This is the tallest all granite structure in the United States, and every single massive piece of stone came from my beautiful state of Maine.
Stairs?
There were a few…
But thankfully there were ramps as well.
And on the day we visited?
It was so cold, windy and damp, the walls were sweating.
We climbed what seemed like forever…. and still had a long way to go.
But there were windows along the way which we opened to peak out.
At which point the wind practically knocked us down.
Granted, looking down was a little nerve wracking.
Good thing my vertigo didn’t kick in, I’d still be there.
Onward and ever upward… we neared the top.
Run my *ss.
Gimme a few more years and I’ll be crawling.
A few more flights….
Yay!
The top…
Where it was raining….
And blowing a friggin’ gale force.
Time for a quick wild haired selfie…
And a walk around the less windy sides with P’town spread out below…
A farewell to the gargoyles.
And we headed back down to collect my sticker.
I’d earned it!
Who doesn’t love a lighthouse? Raise your hand.
If your hand is up, go sit in the corner while the rest of the nice people enjoy this post.
We didn’t have any luck exploring the first lighthouse we’d found since it was on private property, but hope springs eternal.
Decisions, decisions.
East Chop has a lighthouse?
Decision made.
Yay!
A lighthouse….
Boo… a gate that closed it to the public.
0 for 2, we headed to the next one. We’re nothing if not persistent.
Onward!
But apparently not that way.
In case you’re wondering? I’ll take that house, right there.
Oh, alright. I’ll take Idris Elba as well.
So… Gay Head Light.
We found it, parked down below and walked through the gate.
Then we saw it.
It…
And the gate that blocked the entrance to it.
May I just say…. WTF Martha’s Vineyard?
Strike 3. Okay, I give up.
There it is, a perfectly nice lighthouse.
I’m sure it was marvelous inside, not that we’ll ever know.
But the views of the Aquinnah Cliffs?
Admittedly, pretty wonderful.
Wind?
A wee bit.
Goodbye hairdo. Next trip to the Vineyard? I’m wearing a hat and never taking it off.
And because every vacation post must have rocks?
Rocks.
Rocks that mark the sight where the lighthouse originally stood.
Rocks.
Rocks with the late afternoon sun.
You’re welcome.
River's world..... 