Flashback Friday – Super Bowl Weekend!

TWHS

Getting back in the swing of things around here with a little Flashback TWHS to last year’s Super Bowl. It was our first year at our new home in Virginia, so it was our first year not hosting our annual Super Bowl party and I was a little sad:

Josh: “Should we bring the other TV in here for the Super Bowl?”

Cailyn: “What for, it’s only on one channel?”

Josh: “So we can have two TVs with the Super Bowl on. Like at a bar.”

Cailyn: “I really feel like the extremely large and slightly embarrassing 60 inch screen we have is enough…but if you want. And let’s remember this moment when I beg for both TVs in here during March Madness to watch more than one game and you laugh at me because its basketball.”

Josh: “The answer is no. It’s basketball.”

And thus further explains this difference in our sports fandoms: I watch any sport, all sports, all the time. I love the story lines, I love the games, I love the players, I love it all. Josh would be happy with just football (college and pro) for the rest of his life. Meanwhile, I stayed up until 1 am last night watching live Australian Open coverage of the Mixed Doubles Semi-Final. Mixed Doubles. Semi-final. I bet most people didn’t even know the majors still played Mixed Doubles championships. I’m not saying I was the only person in America watching, but I am sure it wasn’t breaking any ratings records.

PS: The intriguing storyline for me was Martina Hingis was playing – I loved her before she retired from singles and thus wanted to see her win. Spoiler: She did. On to the Finals.

superbowleuropewins

 

And finally, because what post is complete without a cat…

gronkkittens

Yup. That’s Patriots Tight End Rob Gronkowski and a kitten. You’re welcome.

And go PATRIOTS.

doyourjob

 

Sandwich Kids Understand

TWHS

Josh and I were discussing the possible bathroom options during our long runs on the Creeper Trail.

Me: “Around the four mile mark there are two Bouse Houses. That’s always an option.”

Josh, staring: “What.”

Me: “I mean, worst case scenario, obviously a Bouse House isn’t preferable…”

Josh: “I don’t understand the words that are coming out of your mouth. Are you speaking another language?

Me: “Which words?!”

Josh: “I seriously don’t understand. Boose Hoose?!”

Me: “A Bouse House? You know, a Porta Potty? A Blue Room? Is ‘Bouse House’ a Northern term? Are you messing with me?”

Josh: “I have never heard the term ‘Bouse House’. Ever.”

Me: “Huh. Maybe it’s a Northern thing. Let me Google it.”

…Googling…

Me: “So. My bad. It’s not even a Northern thing. It’s a SANDWICH thing. It’s totally the name of the Porta Potty company in Sandwich. Ha. I had no idea that wasn’t common slang. I’ve always called them that. I guess it’s not the first time I’ve been speaking my own language.”

Josh: “Clearly.”

You can take the girl off of Cape Cod, but you can’t take the Cape Cod out of the girl.

Anyone else call them that to a non-Cape Codder and be met with puzzlement? Or is this just me? 

Do Turkeys FLY?!

It’s Throwback Thursday y’all! And today’s #TBT will feature a #countrylife story going back to my VERY FIRST day on the farm:

It was my first morning in our new home and I was alone and eating breakfast when I started to hear a knocking. The following internal dialogue took place:

“WHAT IS THAT? Who could possibly be knocking? Our driveway is a mile long! It’s not like someone could have snuck up on me!”

…cats go scurrying under the bed…

…I consider also scurrying under the bed…

“Ok. Must investigate. Here we go. I can read the newspaper headline now: ‘City girl gets killed by weird serial killer that claims his victims in broad daylight and after insistently knocking.’ …Do they have a newspaper here? Maybe we should get the Sunday delivered for coupons… I bet they don’t deliver down our driveway. I’d have to walk two miles on Sunday mornings for coupons…Ok, focus, I still hear knocking.”

…check the front door…

…check the side door…

…grab my cell phone and a broom so I can simultaneously call the police and beat the serial killer with a broom…

…finally tiptoe out onto the deck…

“This is how horror movies start. I’m the girl that gets lured outside and investigates the noise. I hate that girl, I can’t be that girl. I’m holding my cell phone like I’ll have time to make a call to the VOLUNTEER police services in this town of 1,456 residents. I am SO that girl…”

…and look over the rail at the basement door…

“…WHAT IS THAT. ARE THOSE FEATHERS?”

turkey2

“Oh my gosh I think that’s a turkey. Could that be a turkey? Knocking? I’m confused.”

…creep back inside, down the stairs, and slowly open the door so I can see where the turkey/serial killer would be standing…

turkey

“THAT’S A TURKEY. KNOCKING ON MY DOOR. I should try and record this. No one will ever believe me.”

This story ends with a short voice mail that I left after going back upstairs, out onto the deck:

:whispering: “Hey Josh. It’s me. Sooo I think a turkey is knocking on our back door…

…turkey hears me on deck and starts to fly away…

:suddenly shouting: “OH WAIT. DO TURKEYS FLY? It’s flying away?! Maybe it’s a vulture? I don’t know, but it flew!

:shriek: “Ahhh I just walked into a spider web.”

:slightly ashamed: “Call me back.”

I may or may not have needed to edit the language of my voice mail transcription. Which Josh STILL has saved on his phone since he thinks me almost being murdered by a polite, day time serial killer is hysterical.

Country Life

Introducing a new section of the blog today that takes a look at this City Girl’s exposure to Country Life. Future stories will be nestled under the “Country Life” tab!

Right before our move a hysterical example of #countrylife occurred and I’ve been meaning to post it. I’ll set the scene:

I’m inside the house, watching the Bruins game. Suddenly the door opens and Josh comes bursting in, Professor Quirrell-style.

quirrell

Josh: “Cows! There’s cows on our side of the river!”

Cailyn: “What.”

Josh, very agitated: “I just went down to the river and somehow the cows crossed it and they’re on our land.”

Cailyn, unfazed: “Okay. Sweet.”

Josh: “Well what should we do about it?”

Cailyn: “Are you kidding? What is there for us to do? I don’t know how to herd COWS.”

Josh, still worried: …”Are you up for an adventure then? We need to try.”

Cailyn, sighing: “Fine. Let’s go. Let’s go herd cows. Ginormous animals. COWS. Let’s attempt to get them to cross a stream. I hope they respond well to me politely asking.”

Now, as to be expected… we got down to the river, and the cows had already crossed back over. Because, you know, they’re animals. They go home.

The cows, safely navigating the hill on the correct side of the stream.

The cows, safely navigating the hill on the correct side of the stream.