Taste of My Own Medicine

An incident happened this weekend I’m not proud of. In fact, I’m a little embarrassed to share it with you. But hey, it’s just us, right? So, picture this: it’s late Sunday morning. Charlie’s snoring in his Barcalounger. Scamp’s with me in the kitchen, dozing on his doggie bed. I’m puttering around, minding my own business, when all of a sudden, I feel one coming on. You know what I mean. Nobody except the dog is near, so I just let ‘er rip: long, loud and unapologetic. A real twenty-one gun salute. “What’s that?” Charlie yelps, nearly falling out of his chair. “Don’t know,” I yell. “Must be a car backfiring.” Could have been my …

Octave Pease & the First Snowmobile

My Christmas decorations were put away weeks ago now. The only thing I keep out for the winter are a pair of children’s snowshoes, though I do take the little red bows off. I like having them around. They were my mother’s when she was a kid, handmade by her uncle, Octave Pease. The webbing is made from the hide of a deer he shot himself. Octave: now there was a character. He come from a big family, I don’t know how many brothers and sisters. And they were all liars. You should have heard them when they’d get together. One would start to tell a story, and they’d all try to out do each …

Division of Labor

Part of a happy marriage, in my opinion, is knowing what you’re good at and doing it. I’m a big fan of division of labor. Forcing Charlie to clean the house with me would be hell for both of us. And truth be told, I have no interest in going to the dump, mowing the lawn, or (God forbid!) snow blowing. We’ve just kind of negotiated and specialized over the years, and now we’re in a rhythm with it. Here’s Charlie’s take on this. I Do the Dishes Our kitchen is tiny There’s no room for two So when Ida’s cooking She tells me to shoo Me in the way Is not what she wishes …

I’m writing this on New Years Day. Charlie’s putting together a bird house he got for Christmas. He really wanted to get to it and it makes him happy, so why not? I told him, “No problem. I’ll walk Scamp this morning, and maybe we can all go out for an amble later on.” I enjoy a morning walk with the little guy. Not in the middle of a blizzard, of course. But the fact is, he gets me out lots of times when I wouldn’t bother. And amazing gifts come my way on these walks: a rosy sky at dawn with the dark silhouette of a tree’s bare branches, the smell of the outdoors …