Saturday morning, Charlie and me went out for breakfast down to the Busy Bee. Now that Labor Day has passed, the tourists are thinning out, so us locals can actually get a seat. My sister Irene and her husband Jimbo were planning to meet us there. We arrive to find them sitting at an outdoor table, shooting the breeze with Craig Holden. “Hey there, Craig,” I says. “How you doing?” Gosh, Craig must be in his forties now. He’s Snowdell Holden’s grandson. Snowdell’s the former postmistress of Mahoosuc Mills, and reigning grand poobah of the local chapter of the Red Hatters. But that’s another story. Jimbo goes, “Craig’s trying to unload a rooster.” “Would you …

So, I’m working checkout at the A&P, right? When I hear this conversation out of the corner of my ear: two women, voices lowered, talking fast in a urgent sort way. I mean, who wouldn’t listen in? “He wakes me up every morning at 5:00.” “Every morning?” “Like clockwork. I don’t mind it so much on week days. I have to be up for work, anyways. But, it’s the weekends, too.” “You think he’d let you sleep in at least one morning.” “Nope. He just won’t give it a rest. At first I thought it was kind of  cute, you know? But frankly, it’s wearing me down!” “I don’t blame you. Not every morning.” Well, …

Few weeks back, Charlie’s out mowin’ the lawn. I’m putterin’ around the kitchen, you know, cleaning the stove top, excavatin’ the vegetable bin, when I happen to look out the window and see Charlie doin’ the two-step around the yard. Weird, I thought, but gee, he can move pretty fast for an old duffer. Later, I see him bending down, lookin’ under our big viburnum, the one by the bird house my niece Caitlin give us. When he comes in, I ask, “Charlie, what the heck were you doin’ out there?” “Mowing the lawn. What did it look like I was doin’?” “Gettin’ ready to audition for “So You Think You Can Dance?” “Very funny. …

Okay, it’s Labor Day, and after last week’s whinin’ about the end of summer, I’ve decided to focus on the positive. September is one of the nicest months of the year here in Maine. It’s full of clear, sunny days free of humidity, followed by those crisp nights, just perfect for snoozing. All of a sudden, the tourists have transformed from exasperated parents with their cranky, little sunburned kids, to retired couples, kickin’ back and livin’ the dream. And you can actually get a parkin’ spot on Main Street! Me, I always get that back-to-business shot of energy ingrained no doubt from years of school. Years of September representin’ new outfits, new notebooks and a …